Sin City Auction: Bad Boy & Virgin Romance (Nevada Bad Boys Book 4) Read online

  Sin City Auction

  Nevada Bad Boys

  Kelli Callahan

  Copyright © 2018 by Kelli Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Ruckus

  2. Madison

  3. Ruckus

  4. Madison

  5. Ruckus

  6. Madison

  7. Ruckus

  8. Madison

  9. Ruckus

  10. Madison

  11. Ruckus

  12. Madison

  13. Ruckus

  14. Madison

  15. Ruckus

  16. Madison

  17. Ruckus

  Epilogue

  Club Infinite Fantasy Sneak Peek

  Five Mask Of Sin Sneak Peek

  Also by Kelli Callahan:

  About the Author

  1

  Ruckus

  “I guess I should stop expecting to wake up without my head pounding.” I stumbled into the living room of the apartment I shared with my brother, Tommy, holding my hand against the side of my face.

  “Is it hurting because of the fight or because of the tequila?” Tommy looked up from the couch.

  “Probably a little bit of both.” I pulled my hand away and revealed the bruises on my right eye.

  “Fuck, man. That looks like it really hurts.” Tommy picked up a bottle of aspirin and tossed it at me. “Take a few of those and maybe wash them down with some more tequila.”

  “My head thanks you.” I caught the bottle in the air. “My liver hates you.”

  Cage fighting was a young man’s sport and even though I was barely into my thirties, I felt like I had twenty extra years on top of the ones I had lived. I got my head bashed in for money. Even when I won, I still got my head bashed in. I wasn’t as quick as I used to be and my submission style of fighting mixed with ground and pound meant I had to absorb some punches before I took control of the fight. I had to wear them out a little bit and the way they wore themselves out was pounding on my skull. I poured a handful of aspirin into my palm and guzzled the rest of the tequila that was left in the bottle.

  “When do you think you’ll be ready to fight again?” Tommy tapped some keys on his laptop.

  “How’s the bank account looking?” I walked into the living room and dropped all of my weight onto the couch with a thud.

  “Not good.” He looked over at me and grimaced.

  “Then I guess I’m ready.” I shrugged and picked up the television remote.

  Tommy ran the business side of our life and I threw punches. It had worked out well for us ever since we were kids and started a lemonade stand together. Tommy sat behind the booth and I destroyed our competition. I wasn’t as smart as Tommy and that was okay. Tommy would never win a fight, even if his opponent had both hands tied behind their back. In a way, we completed each other. Growing up in Sin City required both sets of skills and each of us was still drawing breath because we figured out how to rely on each other.

  “Carlos is calling.” Tommy stood up and walked into his bedroom.

  Removing himself from the room when he talked business was something Tommy did to appease me. He had to negotiate the money, the opponents, and the extras that came with a victory. I got frustrated with that sort of thing easily and would be ready to crack the wrong skulls if the deal didn’t sound right. Tommy could negotiate his way into anything he wanted, but it wasn’t quick. He had more patience than anyone I had ever met and I had none. It was a good balance. I stretched out on the couch and pressed my hand to my eye.

  “Ow, fuck.” I pulled my hand away and grimaced.

  “So, good news.” Tommy stepped out of the bedroom and pushed his phone into his pocket. “Carlos says that if you win this fight, he’ll get us a room at the Ussery and send some girls up.”

  “Are they going to be bringing the money?” I leaned up and looked over at him.

  “The money’s good.” Tommy smiled and nodded. “It’s not the best, but we’re both overdue for a blowjob.”

  “Blowjobs don’t pay the rent unless you’re the one giving them.” I grunted and flipped the channel on the television.

  “We’re good, I promise. You just have to win.” He took a seat in the chair across from me.

  “I’ll always win.” I grunted again. “That’s why nobody wants to fight me.”

  “Carlos always finds a sucker.” Tommy shrugged and leaned over to pick up his cup of coffee. “I’m sure it’ll be nothing more than an exhibition match.”

  “Exhibition matches still leave bruises.” I pointed at my head. “Last night was supposed to be an exhibition match too.”

  “Maybe if you didn’t let them hit you so much before you took them down?” Tommy tilted his head and smirked as he sipped his coffee.

  “I don’t see you in the cage putting that superior take on fighting to the pay window.” I glared at him and growled.

  “I’m not arguing with you, I’m just making an observation.” He held his hand in front of him and shook his head after putting his coffee cup back on the table.

  “Observe this.” I grabbed my dick through my pants.

  “Win the fight and we’ll do a lot more than observe.” Tommy chuckled and turned his attention towards the television.

  There was a time when I thought I would make it to the UFC and fight for some real money. They weren’t too keen on guys that fought in the underground, so no matter how well I did, they never offered me a contract. I had let that dream die when I turned thirty. All I really cared after that was keeping food on the table and a roof over our head. I knew there would come a point where I couldn’t fight anymore, but I wasn’t going to stop until someone carried me out of the cage in a body bag.

  “Oh, after the fight, I’m going to meet with a few of Carlos’ guys that are starting to do pretty well—when they’re not fighting you, of course. Carlos just shovels fresh meat and he said they might be interested in having me represent them for some fights.” Tommy reached for his coffee again.

  “We tried that a couple of times and it never worked out.” I turned my head towards him. “Can these guys actually win fights?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “If they suck, I’ll just convince them to fight you.”

  Tommy was always trying to come up with a new scheme. He understood that my career was ticking away. I was one bad fight away from ending up on the shelf. That day got even closer the more times I got punched in the skull. I lost count of my concussions years ago. Hell, some years I didn’t even remember at all. Whatever functional brain I had at one point in my life had been bounced against my skull so much I was lucky I still remembered how to breathe. I had seen what old fighters looked like. It wasn’t pretty. I would probably look worse than Muhammad Ali in his final years if I made it to sixty.

  “Tommy, come on! We need to celebrate!” I staggered up to the table where Tommy was working and refilled his glass of whiskey.

  “Give me a few minutes, Ruck. I’m talking to these guys.” Tommy motioned with his hand and tried to get me to leave him alone.

  “I ain’t fighting Ruckus.” The guy on Tommy’s left shook his head. “If you’re trying to sign me up for that shit, I’m out.”

  “Yeah, me either. My cousin can’t even fight anymore after he got
his ass kicked by this son of a bitch.” The guy to the right looked scared as he stared at me.

  “That bitch is my mother, too.” Tommy sighed. “Guys, this is my brother. I’m not signing you up to fight him. In fact, if you agree to let me represent you, you’ll never have to fight him because you’ll be on the same team.”

  “Oh snap.” The guy on the left smiled.

  “Ruck, here.” Tommy pulled the roll of money he had gotten from my fight out of his pocket and handed me a couple of c-notes. “Go play some cards or something.”

  “Fine…” I grabbed my bottle and took the money he was offering.

  The fight had been fairly easy and while I had a few bruises that would hurt when I woke up, I wasn’t feeling anything with the whiskey coursing through my veins. I walked towards the card tables and looked for a seat. It was a busy night and most of them were taken. I wasn’t a fan of the Ussery hotel, nor did I like their overcrowded casino, but it was where Carlos liked to meet. I took another drink and walked past the card tables, taking a seat at one of the slot machines. I hoped a seat would open up soon because it would take a while to lose two-hundred dollars and by the time I was done with that, Tommy would be done with his meeting.

  “Are you playing this machine?” An older lady with white hair walked up, clutching a ticket that people got when they cashed out a slot machine.

  “Huh?” I looked up at her and then turned towards the machine. “Yeah, I’m playing it.”

  I tapped a couple of buttons and then looked back towards the card table. The older lady that talked to me seemed to be glaring intently as she scoped out other slot machines. Seating was pretty limited, and it was the only open slot machine next to the poker tables. I decided to put some money in it and at least lose a couple of bucks so I could justify sitting in front of the blinking lights. I fed it one of my c-notes and watched as the game loaded. I never really liked slot machines. They were a waste of money and the house rarely lost. The one I was sitting at said it was a five dollar slot, but of course the only way to win something was to spend that five dollars four times on one spin.

  All right, this spin is probably worth one of those punches I took. Hopefully it’ll be worth it.

  I slammed my finger into the button and watched as it spun. It lit up like the Fourth of July with music playing and the words Big Money flashed on the screen. I chuckled when their version of big money turned out to be fifteen dollars, which was less than it cost to spin the machine in the first place. I let the machine slowly count my win and looked at the poker tables. A seat appeared to open. I turned back towards the machine and hit the button to eject my money in the form of a ticket, but then I saw someone quickly take the open spot I had my eye on.

  “Fucking hell…” I cursed out loud and took a drink of my whiskey.

  I angrily hit the button to make the machine count faster and then hit the spin button again. It ate my entire twenty dollars without even giving me a consolation prize. I spun for the third time and watched as the machine gave me my entry fee back, plus an additional five dollars. The machine made it seem like I had won big money, but I was still down twenty bucks from where I started. I saw Tommy walking over to the card tables and I stood to wave him over. There were still no seats at any of the tables, and if Tommy was ready to go, then I didn’t need to play anyway. I hit the button on the machine to maximize my bet, which would take most of my money in a single spin, and sent what I had earned into an electrical abyss with one tap of my finger.

  “Hey, there you are. Are you ready to go? They both agreed to join the team!” Tommy grinned and took my bottle of whiskey.

  “Oh, now you’re ready to celebrate?” I chuckled and then heard what sounded like sirens behind me.

  I turned back towards the machine slowly. Every light on it was flashing so fast that it made my eyes hurt. The screen was going crazy and had an arrow pointing up. My eyes followed the arrow and I saw the red light at the top of the machine blinking with the word Jackpot. People around me stopped playing and walked over. Even some of the guys at the card tables put down their hands and turned their attention towards the machine. I blinked a couple of times and stared at the number that was highlighted—two million dollars.

  “Holy shit!” Tommy pumped his fist in the air and then screamed. “Holy shit, Ruck! You just hit the mother fucking jackpot!”

  “Are you serious?” My brain still hadn’t quite registered what I was seeing, but it was quickly catching up.

  “We’re fucking rich!” Tommy screamed again.

  “Tommy…” I stared at the machine as I finally started to understand what I was seeing. “I don’t think I’m gonna fight for a while.”

  2

  Madison

  Oh my god, I think this an acceptance letter!

  I stood next to my mailbox holding an envelope from the University of Florida. It was a thick envelope and all of the rejection letters I got from other colleges had been paper thin. I tore it open and smiled from ear-to-ear as I read the first line. I had been accepted! It wasn’t my first choice, but it was definitely better than some of the schools further down my list. More importantly, it was far away from Las Vegas. I started walking towards the house at a rapid pace, excited to share the news with my parents.

  “Yes, I know it’s a fucking problem, Linda!” I stopped in my tracks when I opened the front door and heard my father yelling.

  “You wasted our life savings!” My mother’s voice was even louder than his, and it sounded like she was crying.

  I slowly closed the door and clutched the letter in my hand. It wasn’t the first time I had walked in on my parents fighting. It seemed like it had gotten worse in the last couple of years. I had practically become a master of stealth and I could usually get past the kitchen without either of them seeing me when they were screaming at each other. The few times I had failed resulted in me getting pulled into the conversation and becoming a verbal punching bag for the two of them. I got past the kitchen door and let a slow sigh of relief escape my lips.

  “How fucked are we, Harold?” My mother yelled again.

  “Pretty fucked…” My father’s voice calmed slightly. “We don’t even have enough for Madison to go to college.”

  “You gambled away her college fund?” I heard a wail, followed by a scream. “Get the fuck out, you stupid asshole!”

  I bolted towards the stairs and took them two at a time to avoid being seen. When I got to the top of the stairs I sat down and stared blankly at the wall. The letter in my hand wasn’t worth the ink on the paper. My grandparents had set aside money for me to go to college. It was what drove me to do so well in school. I wasn’t a great student and I would never make the honor roll, but with a lot of extra effort, I managed to pass with only a few Cs. My SAT scores weren’t that great either, but they were enough to get me into college if I could pay the tuition.

  I don’t know why I bother getting excited about anything that seems to be going right in my life. He always finds a way to ruin it.

  I could hear my mother sobbing downstairs once my father was gone. I felt numb inside when I finally stood and walked into my room. I knew my father had a gambling problem. It was a nice addition to his drinking problem which had made my childhood hell. He wasn’t abusive, but I couldn’t really have friends over on the weekend. He would drink until he passed out, no matter where that was, and most of the time he was in various states of undress or completely naked. Stepping over him to get to the kitchen or the bathroom was just a part of my daily life. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he gambled away my college fund. It was just another shovel of shit to add to the pile that I called my life.

  Well, so much for this.

  I crumbled up the acceptance letter and tossed it into the garbage can next to my desk. I could take out student loans if I had to, but it wouldn’t make sense to pay out-of-state tuition in the process. There were colleges nearby I could attend for less, and still live at hom
e to minimize expenses. I was looking forward to getting out of the house, leaving Las Vegas behind, and starting over. I loved my mother but she was a slave to my father’s addictions and was his constant enabler. She never did anything to try and stop him. She just made excuses and tried to pick up the pieces when his runaway train went off the rails.

  “Madison, are you home?” I heard my mother’s voice from the bottom of the stairs.

  It was time to face the music, whether I wanted to hear the song or not. I knew every verse by that point. She would sit me down, tell me the terrible news, and then cry. She would cry until I told her everything would be okay. After that, she would retreat to her bedroom and pretend she was going to bed early, but I knew she kept a bottle in the closet. Her drinking was controlled, but she still used it as a crutch. At some point, my father would come home. He would beg for her to give him another chance and she would. I had seen it a thousand times over the course of my eighteen years as their only child.

  “This really sucks.” My best friend, Abby, was holding the crumbled acceptance letter from the University of Florida in her hand.

  “Yeah, but what can I do? It’s over at this point. On the plus side, I guess we’ll get to go to college together.” I sighed and leaned back against my pillow.

  “That isn’t all bad.” Abby hopped on the bed and slumped down beside me. “We can have study sessions together, talk about boys, and giggle profusely when we discuss penises.”

  “That’s what we’ve been doing since middle school.” I chuckled, even in the face of my despair.