Redemption (13 page)

Rage grabbed my elbow and spun me around to face him. “I’m not wavering on this, Nev. It’s for your safety. It’ll always be for your safety. I’m sorry.”

After ten seconds of glaring at each other, Rage dropped my arm. As he fixed his plate, all I could think about was what he was hiding. All I knew was that it wasn’t good.

Chapter Sixteen

Rage

“We’re going to drive the short bus to the match,” Wes called out over the gym. I hadn’t been able to hear anything else he’d said, my head was too fucked up to think straight.

A week had gone by quickly, and Neveah hadn’t said one word to me. She’d disappeared every time I’d walked into the same building as her. She stood in the corner of the gym in those stupid short shorts and polo shirt. Not once had she looked in my direction, and the primal instinct inside of me was fed the fuck up with it.

“If it’s the short bus Neveah needs to ride with us,” Chase yelled out from the other side of our small semi-circle.

I clutched my hands on my knees. I wanted to yell ‘shut the hell up’ but bit my tongue to hold it in. Neveah rolled her eyes,
and still
avoided my gaze.
Dammit.

“Let’s get moving, guys,” Wes gestured for everyone to exit. “We don’t have enough seats for everyone, so Rage you’ll have to ride with Neveah to Dallas.”

Something hit the gym floor hard. “Oh, come on, Neveah,” Wes yelled her way. The water jug she’d picked up fell to the floor.

Neveah narrowed her eyes. “Well, stop giving me all this shit to carry and things like this won’t happen,” she snapped.

Wes sighed, but before he could move, I walked over and grabbed the water for her. Carefully, she gave me a quick glance. Her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes dilated with anger. “I can get it.”

I ignored her.

She huffed but trudged outside toward her Honda. I loaded the jug into the back of the bus, and made my way to her passenger seat. She was already inside, hands tight around the wheel.

I settled in, waiting for her to acknowledge my presence. She didn’t. We started down the road after the short bus in silence.

“Neveah—,”

She held out her palm. “Don’t, Rage. I don’t want to hear any more bullshit today.”

Oh that mouth …

This was going to head
south
quickly, I had that gut feeling. The same gut feeling the day I saw her. Her chest heaved, her fingers tightened, and my dick hardened. Reaching over, I gripped the nape of her neck.

“Neveah,” I whispered, desperate for her to listen. To understand. “I’m not asking you to listen to me. You’re going to because I know you miss me as much as I miss you.” I didn’t know that but that’s what I wanted. I needed her to miss me.

“I don’t miss you,” she snapped, her eyes never flickering from the road. “I don’t miss you, and I don’t want to listen to you.”  She pressed her thumb against the volume control on her steering wheel. Maroon 5 blasted from the speakers, drowning my thoughts and words.

Biting my tongue, I reached down and turned the radio off. I let my fingers trail back up her leg to her hip. “Well, Neveah. I don’t believe you. There is no way your body isn’t as turned on as mine is right now. I know you feel that pull. I see your nipples underneath your shirt.”

She didn’t look away from the road, but her cheeks flushed.
Did a guy have to beg?
Slipping my hand forward, I cupped her through her jeans. A soft moan left her body, and she melted against me.
Sweet Lord …

My eyes flickered to the bus ahead of us. They were far enough ahead not to see inside her car. I unzipped her pants and slid my middle finger down her soft cleft and into her silky wetness. Her sigh was throaty, and it sent my heart on hiatus. “Baby,” I cooed, bringing my mouth to her cheek. “Don’t stop talking to me again.” I prayed she didn’t hear the plea in my voice.

“Wait,” she rasped out, her hand catching my wrist. I stopped moving my fingers and waited with my cheek against her own. “Tell me your last name,
please
.”

The desperation in her voice pulled on every piece of good left in me. There was something about her voice that shattered me. “Cohen,” I breathed. “I’m Rage Cohen.” She lowered her gaze briefly before looking back at the road.

Despite the tension around us, she rested her right hand on my cheek. The movement sent my stomach on a roller coaster ride. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

I nodded, stroked my fingers, and she tightened her grip on the wheel. “You’re very welcome.”

The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile.

I cleared my throat. “Since we’ve officially had our first fight, I feel we need to make up for it.”

She rolled her hips once but shook her head. “No, tonight. Not now. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

I sunk another finger into her. “There is a first time for everything,” I whispered. She relaxed into my touch, and let her legs fall wide.

“Show me.”

Oh, I was going to show her.
Show her what no other man could give her. Pure pleasure. Curling my fingers inside of her, she clutched the wheel tighter, a soft sound filtered the air. “You’re so wet. I make you so fucking wet, don’t I?”

Her dilated eyes widened as she nodded, gnawing on her lip like a starving dog. I pressed another finger at her entrance, and gritted my teeth at the throaty scream she let loose. “You like that? You wish my cock was there instead?”

“God, yes!”

I smiled, pressed the pad of my thumb against her clit and made slow deliberate circles. “You’re so wet, so beautiful,” I whispered, filling her up over and over again.

Her eyes fluttered closed but snapped back opened to the road. Leaning down, I nibbled on the shell of her ear and shoved the third finger inside of her. I loud moan filled the car as she road my hand, fingers clutching the steering wheel. “Oh God, please. Shit!”

Her muscled tightened around my fingers, the feel of her letting loose made my dick protest harder against my pants. When her body relaxed, I pulled my fingers from her and sucked them to the back of my throat.

Wild-eyed, cheeks flushed, she swallowed and lowered her gaze to my mouth. “You taste so sweet,” I whispered, pressing my finger to her own mouth.

Without hesitation she sucked my fingers into her soft mouth and moaned at her taste. A pink tint shaded her cheeks. She giggled beneath her breath and turned her attention back to the road.

Guilt wrapped its hand around my throat. This girl had fallen for me and she didn’t even know what I was capable of. She didn’t realize I was her worst fucking nightmare. And I was too goddamn selfish to let her go because I’d fallen for her the moment I saw those green eyes.

***

The gym stood massive compared to the one before. The crowd double the size. But none of that mattered, it was the fact that we were in Dallas, fighting. Despite the loud gym fans blowing toward us, I dripped sweat. I scanned the crowds, searching for someone—anyone—that I knew. If the wrong person saw me, it wouldn’t be pretty. Denver was still in Paris with my sister, but he either worked with or employed every scumbag in the city.

I leaned against the entrance to the locker rooms, watching every person that walked up each aisle, scanning the excited faces.
No one.
“You’re nervous?”

Neveah stood beside me, her cheeks bright pink. I ignored her question. I didn’t want to talk about the match, or me. “You’re blushing. Have you been thinking about the car ride over here?”

Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I wasn’t, thank you.”

She was
. Smiling, I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Whatever helps you sleep tonight.”

“I have other things in mind that’ll help me sleep tonight,” she whispered.

Turning to face her, I smiled. “Oh yeah, will you need my help with any of them?”

She gave me a lazy one shoulder shrug. “Well, it includes a dick so, you’ll do.”

I grinned while I watched the color heightened on her cheeks. “I think I can definitely help you there, Champ.”

The smirk on her face disappeared when the buzzer went off. “You’re up soon,” she whispered, turning her gaze to mine. “Your opponent is Jackson Simpson. He is six three, twenty-eight and this is his second match. He’s no good, you’ll have him in the first round. He leans back on his leg before he strikes.”

I nodded slowly, never taking my gaze from her lips. She knew so much about boxing, and everyone knew she could throw one hell of a punch. “Why don’t you fight?”

She looked down at her feet. “Before my mom died, she made my dad promise that he would never let me fight. It’s not that I don’t want to but it was her only wish.”

Christ.
I reached for her arm but someone’s heavy footsteps from the hallway stopped me. Cooper stopped an arm’s length away from us, hands shoved down in his pockets, a scowl on his face. “Wes wants to see you in the locker room.”

Giving Neveah a lingering glance, I shoved from the wall and stalked toward the room. Wes stood in the center, facing toward all of the boys. His face was stern, jaw set, his hands clutched around his clipboard.

“Have a seat Declan.”

I took a seat, taking in the significance that’d taken over the room. Every guy’s face was serious, no one spoke. “It’s our first real match tonight, and I want you all to know that I believe in every single one of you. This counts, so listen for my cues and give it everything you have. We can do this. Now, let’s get out here and whoops some ass!” Coach yelled.

The room burst into cheers. And despite my situation, I felt an overwhelming sense of belonging. It didn’t set well with my plan to save my sister or to move on, but it felt good as fuck.

***

Adrenaline coursed through me. The sweat that built on my forehead cascaded down my face to my shirtless chest. The fight hadn’t even started but I was so amped up, my hands twitched on my lap.

Neveah stepped in front of me, swiped two fingers into the Vaseline and began to cover my face. “You’ll be fine,” she whispered.

I grinned. “I’ll be fine when we get you home tonight.”

She held her smile back. “I meant in the fight.”

I eyed her curves in her polo, then her short shorts. “I’m not worried about the fight, Neveah.”

Her gaze dropped to my mouth. “Good. You shouldn’t be.”

“I like it on my chest too.”

She dipped her finger and smeared it over my chest. Her fingers clenched when I tightened my muscles beneath her. “I remember,” she whispered. “How come you don’t take this more seriously?”

She didn’t mean anything by the question, but it hit me sharply in the chest. The truth was that I didn’t know how long I’d be there. I had to save Hannah, but what would happen after that? I’d bring her to live there with me? I couldn’t stay away from Neveah for that long. There’d be no way to hide our relationship.

“Rage,” Neveah whispered, her hand touching my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I cleared my throat. “You didn’t upset me, Angel. I just don’t know how to answer that question.”

She searched my face. “That’s okay. I don’t think it matters either way. You’re amazing.”

I wanted to lean down and kiss her mouth.

Coach pulled me from Neveah’s soft touch. “Okay, Kid. We’re about to begin,” He bent in front of me, handing me a water bottle. “Listen to my cues, and do what you do.”

The ref made his way to the middle of the ring, and silence grew over the crowd. Coach drew my attention with a quiet whistle and snapped his fingers in my face. “Bend at the waist. Keep your hands up and defend yourself. Kill this kid.”

I smiled. “I got it, Coach.”

The ref called our match, and we met in the middle of the ring. My opponent was taller than me, just by an inch or two. He wore braces on both wrist and both ankles which told me he was a heavy hitter and even heavier on his feet. But I was one hundred pounds lighter and a hell of a lot quicker.

“Let’s have a clean fight.” He gestured toward our gloves. “Touch ‘em up.”

We hit our fist quickly and separated like the Rea Sea. A low hum sprinkled over the crowd. We hadn’t had too much of a crowd in prison. But it didn’t bother me. It was simple to tune it out.

The whistle sounded and the arena went quiet. I bounced on the balls of my feet twice, swung greedily at the air and bounded toward the center of the ring.

“Swing tight, Fernandaz!”

“Arms up, Dec! Arms up!”

I pushed out the noise, focused on his steps, his eyes, the nervous pull of his eyebrows. Each sway of his feet sounded like thunder, but there was no denying the fear in his eyes. He pulled his arm back to build force, like Neveah mentioned. His quick jab skidded an inch from my jaw. I sidestepped, he stumbled forward from the weight, giving me the perfect angel for a right upper cut. The sound of my bone hitting his face cracked around me, sending jolts of adrenaline to my toes.

“Back up, Fernandez. Defend yourself. Arms up! Arms up!”

But it was too late. The swell of his left eye blinded his vision, giving me the one moment I needed to TKO. Loosely, he held his arms in front of his face, the realization hiding beneath his gaze.

I matched his steps, bounded forward and slugged him in the jaw. His head dropped backwards, the arena went quiet, and he hit the ground with one heavy thud. It felt like someone placed a blanket over the arena, blocking out all of the noise, only to rip it off, revealing a thunder of applause.