Trick (Cocky Cage Fighters, Book 7)

The fairy tales have it all wrong.

Cinderella didn’t fall in love with the prince. He was nothing more to her than an easy escape from her shitty life.

How do I know? Because in this twisted Cinderella story I’m her long-lost stepbrother.

Wilhelmina is about to marry the wrong man. He’s no prince charming, and Mina sure as hell doesn’t love him, so I have no idea why she wants to spend her life with him.

Time’s running out for me to save my stubborn Cinderella by stopping her wedding.

Nothing, not even war, prepared me for this agonizing battle to win Mina’s heart.

Good thing I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve and I don’t mind fighting dirty.

DISCLAIMER: This fictional story is far from a fairy tale. It’s a rather dark spin on Cinderella, only instead of a wicked stepmother, this heroine dreams of escaping years of traumatic sexual abuse. Fair warning that there are a few scenes that could trigger emotional distress before the hero saves the day.

Patrick Foxx

After winning my last fight in the team tournament and getting the cash, I’m pumped and feel the need to celebrate the fact that I may even receive a fat IFC contract in the coming days. I sure could use a nice payday since my savings is practically depleted thanks to my inability to hold a job after becoming a civilian again. There are no college degrees under my belt, and the whole “I’m a helluva marksman with an M16 and can kill men with my bare hands” thing are not really qualifications many employers appreciate.
For a few weeks, I worked as a bouncer at a night club until I beat the shit out of an asshole who got a little too handsy with a woman after she told him to fuck off. From there, I tried working as mall security. Come to find out, the supervisor said it was not acceptable to chase down and break a man’s arm for stealing a pair of shoes. Apparently, they didn’t appreciate my version of serve and protect, but it’s not as if I can just press a button to turn that shit off. I have a problem with rage and could probably benefit from some anger management classes.
Maybe fighting in a cage like a rabid animal is all there is for me now, at least until my temper cools down. It’s been so long since I was institutionalized into the Marines that I can’t really remember if I’ve always been an overconfident hothead or if they made me that way. And isn’t that the reason I’m staying in Florida for an extra week?
Lately, I feel like I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore if I’m not a Marine. I’m still trying to find the place where I fit in the world and thought reconnecting with my estranged father might be a good place to start. Hell, if that doesn’t work, I’m all out of ideas since I can’t afford a plane ticket to see my mom in California.
If nothing else, at least I now know that I kick ass as a cage fighter. The rigorous training has done wonders helping me sleep a few hours a night without startling awake dripping in sweat from the usual nightmares. So, as long as it pays, I’m gonna keep using my fists to earn a living. God, I hope Jude and Linc are right and the IFC calls me sooner rather than later.
Tonight, though, I’m trying not to think about any of that shit. I just want to drink away my blues and finally get laid. Good thing the other guys from Havoc have the same thing in mind. Well, Ace, Luke, and Alex, the only ones left who aren’t pussy whipped yet. The age difference in me and all of them is at least four or five years. They’re young enough that they shouldn’t be thinking about settling down. Not that I am either at twenty-seven, but I haven’t even had a damn date in almost a decade.
The trendy Daytona Beach club is already crowded when we walk in around ten, the dance floor lit up with strobe lights, slam packed with half-naked, sweaty bodies writhing to the ear-splitting music. It’s not my scene at all, but nowadays only the gym or my silent apartment seems to meet the criteria. Being around this many people means having to give the benefit of the doubt for trusting that none of them are packing heat or planning to blow the place up. Odds are neither of those scenarios will go down tonight, but convincing my paranoid brain of that is a different story. Alcohol will help numb the irrational thoughts.
The guys and I get a round of beers from the bar, and I lead them to a high top table with two barstools on each side. I take the one in the corner so that my back is to the wall and not the room.
“I don’t even know where to start. There are too many choices,” Luke says as he runs his fingers through his blond hair while looking out into the sea of dancers.
“At least women don’t run when they see you,” Ace, our heavyweight, replies while tipping the bottle of beer up to his lips. “They all take one look at me and think I’ll break them.”
The man is a giant. I’m pretty sure I can still hear his stool groaning underneath his massive weight.
“Fear would probably be better than always landing in the fucking friendzone,” Luke mutters.
“Amen,” Alex says with a clink of his beer to Luke’s. “I might have to relocate to Cary since I’ve befriended all of the women in Maryland.”
“What’s your story, Trick?” Luke asks me.
“Friendzone,” I answer simply before downing my beer.
There’s no way I’m gonna rehash what went down with these guys who have probably already heard all about how Nate and I were fighting over Alyssa, and she picked him. The kicker is that there was never really a competition. She never had any interest in me. It was all idiotic delusions on my part, like I just could step into their family and replace Austin.
Tonight, I want to let go of the guilt, forget Alyssa, and get the fuck over the embarrassment of putting myself out there with her and getting turned down. For weeks I’ve been licking my wounds, and it’s time to move the fuck on. Soon, she and Nate will probably be getting hitched, and I’ve played the pathetic loser for long enough.
Half an hour later, I’m not drunk but feeling pretty damn good. For the first time in twenty months, I have money in my pocket and a possible career in front of me, even if it is using my fists. I’m on top of the world. All I need is to get laid, proving that there are plenty of other pretty women in the world besides Alyssa Grant. My best friend’s wife is being taken care of by another man, so I need to let her go and focus on taking care of myself for once. Just for one night, I want to lose myself in a beautiful woman, forgetting everything else, all the shitty memories of war, death, and the agonizing loneliness since coming home.
To say I’ve had a dry spell would be like saying the Sahara is hot. My dick hasn’t seen any action since…
Right. I don’t actually remember. Between serving my country, dealing with my best friend’s death, and trying to be there for his wife, who I stupidly started having feelings for, women haven’t been on my list of things to do. Tonight that’s gonna change.
Shoving aside all the bullshit that’s been weighing me down, I finish off my fourth beer and tell the other guys who are all still sitting on their thumbs, “Watch how it’s done, boys.”
Landing a woman was never a problem for me. The trick was keeping them around for more than one night.
Leaning my forearms on the balcony rail, I look down on the main floor in search of an available female. One without a guy all up on her ass. I’ve brawled enough for one week, and an assault charge would probably cost me an IFC contract. It takes a few seconds before I finally spot the woman who is gonna end my drought with a literal bang.
There.
On the far side of the room, there’s a sexy as fuck chick who is begging for male attention in her minuscule, sleeveless red dress. Her hands are holding up her silky, jet-black waves, revealing her ivory neck that’s in serious need of my beard abrasions. There are several other girls dancing around her, forming a cockblocking wall, which is fine. Call me a wrecking ball, because I’m about to bust right up in there.
Heading down the stairs, I slip through the sea of sweaty bodies. From there I wait until just the right moment when a space between the women opens up before trying to sneak through their perimeter. The blonde girl on the right catches me just as I’m about to make a move. Instead of a rebuff, she winks at me and steps aside. “Go get her, tiger.”
Okay then.
With a nod of thanks, I move up behind the dark beauty and lean down to shout, “Hey, gorgeous,” right next to her ear so she can hear me over the crowd. I wait for her reaction before I even dare put my hands on her perfect, swiveling hips.
The incredibly sexy girl turns around to face me; and while it’s hard to see much in the dark club, there’s no way I could miss her piercing, icy blue eyes, highlighted by long, dark lashes and heavy black makeup. She’s young, several years younger than me, yet I can’t seem to care. If she’s in here, she’s legal. That’s all that matters.
“Hey, gorgeous,” she repeats, or at least I’m pretty sure that’s the two words her red, plump lips mouth.
Looking me up and down appraisingly, I apparently pass inspection since she steps forward and swivels her hips so that those sexy, soft curves of hers brush against the front of my jeans and black Havoc tee. Her full breasts press against my hard chest when she grabs my shoulders to grind her stomach against my dick. That’s all it takes for me to start getting hard. Knowing I now have her permission, I slip my hands down her sides and let them come to a stop just above the swell of her ass.
The bass of some hip-hop song I don’t know keeps thumping around us while we dance like we’re fucking with our clothes on.
“What’s your name?” I lean down and shout against her ear on the second song, feeling like I should at least know that based on how I want things to progress tonight.
“Mina,” she says, standing on her toes so that her lips are pressed to my ear. She’s a lean little thing, and tall for a woman. “What’s yours?” she asks, but her lips linger next to my ear, her warm breath making me shiver.
“Trick,” I tell her, using the nickname my teammates use. It’s the only name my best friend Austin ever called me. Then, I give her ear the same lip treatment she gave mine, followed by a brief nip of my teeth to her earlobe and swirl of my tongue over her flawless neck. I feel and hear her breath hitch before all the tension in her body evaporates. If not for my arms tightening around her waist, she would’ve melted to the floor. Without knowing anything else but her first name, that’s how I know I have her.
Tonight, Mina is gonna be mine.

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