Choosing Hearts - The Fighter's Passion (Gritty, Explicit Romance Novel) (A Lusty Stand Alone Story) (7 page)

CHAPTER
FOUR

“1985?” Rogan looked confused.
“Surely you jest.”

“Well, Rip Van
Winkle.” The other man laughed. “Did you just wake up from the last century?”

Four centuries,
more liken to, Rogan thought silently. A chill descended over him. The damned
wizard had sent him away through time and space, four hundred years into the
future. He was surprised enough to see that carriages did not need horses here
when O’Malley brought him over to meet this duke. Along the way, he did have
his doubts about it being a question of not just where, but also when he had
been sent. This was not Hell and he was not dead, but it was close enough. It
was the distant future and he might as well have been dead. He stood silently
staring out of the window of the large edifice O’Malley had brought him to,
wondering about how he would find a way to get back home - back to his beloved
Alicia when four hundred years separated them. There had to be a counter spell.
And he would find it; even if he had to live through eternity.

“You sure about
this guy, Rippy?” The fat man asked O’Malley in a low tone. “He has the build
and feel for a good fighter, but he also looks kinda spaced out to me. Is he
some kinda druggie?”

“He’s on the
level, Eddie. Trust me. I’ve seen this guy fight. He’s gonna make us rich,” the
short man said excitedly. “I think he’s hit his head a bit too often and has
some kinda short term memory loss about his past.”

“Yeah?” Eddie
Vance looked amused. “That’s perfect for us then. No back story, no police
record, I think we got us a golden goose here then, ‘ey Rippy?”

“More than you
know, Eddie.” O’Malley rubbed his hands together. “More than you know.”

“Really?” Vance
smirked. “Then, why don’t you tell him to show me what he can do.”

“You want him to
show you? Have you got someone he can spar with?” O’Malley looked around the
seedy room.

“How about he lays
one on you, so I can see if he throws the right kind of punches.” Vance grinned
at the short man.

“Yeah?” O’Malley
laughed. “I ain’t got a death wish, Ed. I’ve seen him fight. How about you let
him pop you one instead?”

“You think I ain’t
got the nuts for it, shorts.” Vance sneered. “I was a fighter before I got into
promoting. Come on, big guy, show me what you got.”

Rogan glared at
the fat man waving his pudgy fists at him. He was amused, but didn’t show it.
Instead, he rammed his huge right fist down the edge of the large wooden table
in the centre of the room. The tremendous impact made the table fly up towards
him. The huge warrior followed up with a second, rapid fire straight left,
splintering the wood right down the middle. Wide eyed at the speed and power he
witnessed, Vance staggered backward and fell hard on the floor.

“Y-y-you were on
t-t-the level, Rippy.” Vance stood up shakily. “Let’s get him on right away.
I’ve got a fight set in half an hour for old Ramirez against that guy from
Portland. I’ll drop Ramirez and set your boy up for that. Call the bets at 3-1;
let’s see what he can do in a real fight.”

“He can get us
rich. Make it 5-1, Ed.” O’Malley grinned. “Come on, Rogan, let’s roll, baby.”

“Where are we
going?” The warrior knight raised an eyebrow.

“Heck, I love that
musical accent.” Vance laughed nervously as he quickly stepped out of the door.
“Reminds me of that old highlander movie…”

“We’re going down
to the basement to take on the best underground fighters in the business.”
O’Malley told Rogan with a look of seriousness on his pudgy face.

“How much gold do
I get from a fight?” Rogan wanted to know.

“Well, about
that.” The shorter man smiled and held out a few ten dollar bills. “Gold isn’t
used as currency over here in this city.We use paper money like these and coins
made of Nickel.”

“These pieces of
parchment are of more value than gold?” Rogan examined the dollar bills
closely.

“You bet, lad.”
O’Malley grinned. “And we’re going to get us millions of it.”

Rogan nodded
silently, not wishing to argue on the ways and norms of a place he knew nothing
about. His head felt heavy and his heart heavier still. He was a clever man
with a strong will, keeping his wits about himself where a lesser man would
lose his mind in such a grave situation. Rogan steeled himself and decided to
take one thing at a time. Patience and planning, he knew, would always bear
fruit when the time would come.

Quietly, he
followed O’Malley and Vance down the stairs that led to an area under the
building where the carriages without horses were kept. O’Malley called them
cars. Rogan didn’t ask further, just nodding his acknowledgement. They walked
through the dimly lit area and went down another much wider set of steps. Rogan
could hear the sounds of cheers and curses coming from below as they made their
way down.

“Hey, Vance.” A
tall, slender man wearing a strange red hat walked up to them. “Ramirez better
be up to speed this time. Kilburn wants his money back.”

“He’ll get it and
more, Josh.” O’Malley grinned. “And Ramirez ain’t fighting tonight; we’re
breaking in our new guy.”

“Hey, that’s gonna
piss off some of the bookies, man.” Josh whined. “Switching fighters like that
in less than twenty four hours.”

“Ramirez is out
with the flu,” Vance grated. “Now get lost and tell Kilburn we got his money.”

“What odds you
setting?” The lanky messenger asked, eyeing the tall blonde warrior with
suspicion.

“Five to one on my
boy here.”  Vance replied. “It’s a fair run for a new face.”

“These fights are
wagered?” Rogan looked at O’Malley.

“Absolutely, lad.
That’s how we make the money.” The little man grinned.

“Then put a
hundred coins on me.” The warrior knight’s green eyes gleamed.

“You mean a
hundred dollars, right?” Josh looked at Rogan in surprise.

“He means a ten
grand, baby.” O’Malley patted the taller man on the back.

“For his first
ever fight? He’s freaking delusional.” The lanky man’s eyes went wide.

“I’ve seen him
fight, and soon so will you.” O’Malley winked.

“Yeah, he’s a big
guy and all, but Kilburn will go with Portland.” Josh sneered. “That guy’s a
fighter… 29 to nothing, that’s a record to beat.”

“Where is my foe?”
Rogan demanded, cracking his knuckles. “Let us be done with this.”

“Here he comes.”
Vance pointed to a car driving up and completing the circle that made the fight
arena.

The doors opened
and three heavy set men stepped out. One of them held the door open and another
man, larger than the three, emerged. He looked around coldly. The scar running
down the left side of his face stood out white against his tanned skin. He was
as tall as Rogan and almost as muscular. His bare upper body was covered with
tattoos of dragons, naked women and thorny vines.

“Think you can
beat him?” O’Malley whispered to Rogan.

“I have bested
bigger and better men.” The warrior replied with a grin. “Be prepared to
collect our fee.”

“Oh, I love your
optimism, Irishman. This guy ain’t no table.” Vance laughed. “You’d better have
the skill to match that mouth.”

“He does.”
O’Malley reiterated for the umpteenth time with a sigh.

“Our next fight
tonight, folks,” a loud voice announced, “features a newcomer to the
underground arena with no history or record, a total rookie, at five to one
odds, please welcome Rogan, the fighting Irishman.”

Boos and cheers
filled the rank air while some clapped their hands as Rogan raised a massive
fist in acknowledgement.  The announcer went on to introduce his opponent from
Portland, extolling his wins and records for all to cheer. Rogan’s keen eyes
watched the man, noting anything that would look like a weakness he could
exploit.

“All right,
fighters… let’s get it on.” The voice of the announcer boomed.

His mouth twisted
by a bull-like bellow, the tattooed fighter lunged for Rogan with both hands
reaching for his neck. With a smile on his handsome face, the blond warrior
kissed the bright amulet on his neck and deftly sidestepped the man, letting
him crash headlong into one of the parked cars.

“Holy Sheeeet,
he’s fast.” Josh gasped as O’Malley nodded with a ‘told you so’ look on his
smug face.

The fighter from
Portland was not amused. He quickly rose up and approached Rogan with a little
more caution. The master swordsman didn’t wait for the man, launching into this
own assault instead.  Two inhumanly rapid blows to the man’s gut made him
double up, his face going down fast to meet Rogan’s rising knee. His jaw broke
with a dull sickening crack as it connected with the warrior’s powerful knee
even as Rogan grabbed him by the ears and smashed his forehead into the man’s
hapless face.

His large face
reduced to a bloody pulp, the Portland fighter went down and stayed very still.
The silence that followed could be sliced with a thin blade. Rogan strolled
back quietly and took a towel off Vance’s hands and wiped the blood off his
hands and chest.

“The fighting
Irishman, everybody.” O’Malley yelled out exuberantly. “A new record, twenty
one seconds.”

“Did you kill
him?” Vance swallowed hard, staring at the very still form of the other fighter
as Rogan sipped some water.

“He lives, though
his face may not be what it once was.” The brutal warrior grinned. “Now, where
is my money, in five fold?”

“You’ve earned it,
man.” Vance shook his head. “And there’ll be more, much more.”

“Tonight, we’re
going to party.” O’Malley grinned. “With wine, women and song.”

“I’ll take the
wine and the song.” Rogan said grimly. “You can keep the Earth maidens.”

“You’re the most
peculiar fella I’ve ever met, Irish.” Vance grinned, puffing on a cigar. “But
as long as you can knock ‘em dead like that, I got your back.”

“You honor me
greatly.” Rogan bowed with a tight smile.

~ ~ ~

Hundreds of men he
had slain before and hundreds more he would slay, and yet he felt strange
remorse for the fighter whom he had only maimed a few hours ago. There was no
honor in beating a man for money - for monetary gain - the warrior knight
wrestled with that thought unable to fall asleep.

“What am I to do?”
He whispered to himself. “I must return to her… to my Alicia.”

He held the amulet
in his hands, feeling the warm glow spread though his veins. It was magical; it
had to be. It kept him safe and well. It was her love and nothing else. It was
their love and even across the great divide of time their love was strong.
Visions of her lovely face filled his eyes with tears. Rogan didn’t care; he
let the tears trickled down his rugged face. There was no one there to see him
cry, alone in the little room that Vance had gotten for him.

He knew Vance and
O’Malley were men of greed and chance, the kind he fought against in Kirk
Falls, keeping the Dukedom free of such vices. Yet now his survival and success
depended on these very kinds of vermin that he had sworn to eradicate. He
sighed deeply, letting the tears flow and filling his mind with his love.

“Alicia, oh my
dear sweet Alicia.” He wept. “Will I ever behold you again?”

The amulet began
to glow brighter as his eyes grew heavy and mind felt free. Sleep at last had
blessed him with her comforting embrace. Rogan smiled. He could feel her now.
Alicia was right there with him.He could smell the sweetness of her hair, taste
the freshness of her lips. Her large blue eyes filled his heart with longing
and love.

“Rogan, my love,
my life,” she said. “Where have you been?”

“I was lost for a
while, my love.” He replied, reaching for her. “But I am here now, to be with
you.”

“Don’t ever leave
me again.” Alicia pleaded. “I am so afraid to be alone. It is so cold and
dreary without you… please, Rogan, don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t, my
love.” Rogan wept. “I will be with you forever. I will quit the Duke’s service
and we will live in peace forever and ever.”

“Oh, Rogan, that
will be the happiest day of my life.” Her voice was full of hope.

“I only live for
you, Alicia my love.” Rogan reached out and caressed her flushed face.

She responded by
moving in close to him, kissing his neck and chin and hugging him tight. Her
hands slid over his broad muscular back, caressing over the hard packed muscle.
He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her smooth, silky fingers over
his battle scarred and callused skin. Her soft warm body pressed against his,
filling his mind and soul with a tranquility only being with her would bring.

Rogan suddenly
realized that she was naked and so was he. Her tender body trembled against his
own naked form. He longed so much to be with her again - to unite with her. His
lips found the sensitive hardness of her pink nipples, making her moan and
whisper his name into his ear. She spread her legs, inviting his aching
hardness into the comforting warmth of her hearth of love. He felt the familiar
sensation of her tightness engulf him, grasping, siphoning his erection as
always.

Her moans and
whimpers of pleasure aroused him and he moved in rhythmic union with her. His
love for her swelled within her, filling her with satisfaction and she told him
so, kissing and pecking him all over his face as he brought her to an orgiastic
bliss.

“Oh Rogan, forever
we are one.” Alicia said softly.

“Yes, my love…
forever and ever… across all time.” He mumbled, feeling loved and safe within
her.

“Rogan… my dear
heart… my one and only.” Alicia’s voice, sweet and tender, seemed to be getting
fainter.

Rogan opened his
eyes and froze in horror. He could see her, blissfully writhing in pleasure,
but under another man. He couldn’t see the face of the other as he seemed to
float above them. He called out to her frantically, but she seemed oblivious of
him, focusing only on the man who made love to her.

“No! No! No!”
Rogan screamed and sat up in a cold sweat. “Alicia! No!”

It was still dark
outside and a cold chill blew in from the crack in the window. Rogan sat up and
clawed at the sheets. It was a dream, a nightmare, and yet it seemed so real.
He clutched at the glowing talisman, Alicia’s sweet face filling his mind. Had
he truly lost her forever? His heart weighed down heavily, but he kept firm his
resolve to return. Steeling himself, for he knew many more of such dreams would
haunt him until he found a way back home, Rogan stepped out of the little room
and set off on a brisk run to have the cold air clear his mind.

~ ~ ~