Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) Read online

  Captured at Nightfall

  Kitrisha Rasmussen

  Copyright Page

  Published by B&K Books, LLC

  Marana, Arizona 85653

  Copyright © 2013 by Kitrisha Rasmussen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The author published an earlier serialized version of this story online under the name Kissed by Twilight under the pseudonym Kit1313.

  ISBN: 9781467587044

  Cover Design © B&K Books, LLC

  Acknowledgments

  This book would never be where it is today if not for the vast sources of information readily available. I’d be even more clueless than I tend to be normally if not for the blessing of modern technology.

  I write this story as an outsider. I’ve done my research, sure; but any mistakes are all on me.

  Thanks to Kimberly Johnson for the medical advice.

  Thanks to Brittany Bennion, my cheerleader.

  Thanks always to my family.

  And special thanks to Brandon, my very own sex god of twelve-plus years, who doesn’t mind giving it to a girl straight even if she threatens to punch you in the eye. I really can listen . . . sometimes.

  To you, the readers: If you love this story, my only request is that you give your thanks to those who serve.

  Dedication

  To you, my fans, whose love of this book helped get it to where it is today.

  Other books by Kitrisha Rasmussen

  Children of Nod Vampire Series:

  The Black Rose

  Coming Soon:

  Mask of Enoch

  Table of Contents

  Captured at Nightfall

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Other books by Kitrisha Rasmussen

  Chapter one

  Chapter two

  Chapter three

  Chapter four

  Chapter five

  Chapter six

  Chapter seven

  Chapter eight

  Chapter nine

  Chapter ten

  Chapter eleven

  Chapter twelve

  Chapter thirteen

  Chapter fourteen

  Chapter fifteen

  Chapter sixteen

  Chapter seventeen

  Chapter eighteen

  Chapter nineteen

  Chapter twenty

  Chapter twenty-one

  Chapter twenty-two

  Chapter twenty-three

  Chapter twenty-four

  Chapter twenty-five

  Chapter twenty-six

  Chapter twenty-seven

  Chapter twenty-eight

  Chapter twenty-nine

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter one

  “OMG!” Lainie exclaimed. She jumped up and down in front of Allison, looking like a rocket ready to launch. Fingers carved into Allie’s upper arms, a restricting death grip which added exclamation to each excited bounce.

  Allie’s teeth chattered in her head. Her eyes dropped warily to her arms as she considered chewing them off to get away.

  “OMG, OMG!” Lainie squealed again. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard of the UMMA!”

  Seriously, Allie thought, what was the deal with all the abbreviations!

  UMMA apparently stood for Underground Mixed Martial Arts. OMG stood for Oh, my god. Which was just about the same sentiment running through Allie’s head right then.

  She grabbed onto Lainie’s wrists and pried them away from her body. “Calm down, Lainie. Breathe, for heaven’s sake.” She eyeballed her friend’s face where blue eyes sparked and cheeks were flushed with excitement.

  Boy, how she envied her. Allison Young—Allie—had been best friends with Lainie since forever. They’d done all the important growing up stuff in tandem: lost teeth, speculated the birds and the bees, as well as the validity of Santa Clause, grown into training bras. They’d held each other through their first breakups, crashed into garage doors and ran stop signs as new drivers. And, even though Lainie was more into pom poms and Drill Team, while Allie tried to blend in with the wallpaper, nose stuck in a book, they clicked. Sisters almost.

  Allie’s introvert tendencies were more from circumstance, something that Lainie got about her even when they were little. She’d done her best to drag her along, and was always the shoulder to cry on. Allie’s dad had been out of the picture all her life, and her mom . . . well, her mom was complicated, even more so now. Bad with money and always on the prowl for the newest Mr. Right, bills, housework, and comforting her mom while she recovered from Mr. Wrong had mostly fallen on Allie since she was old enough to write a check. Not like she grudged her mom. Allie had realized long ago it was simply her mom’s nature. It’d been hard, though . . . being a girl with a woman’s obligations. She hadn’t been able to taste the extras in life that gave spice to growing up. She didn’t hang out with other kids, especially not boys, in Middle School and High School. Didn’t socialize other than the occasional blind date that Lainie dragged her on. It had made her awkward. Unsure of herself around people her age.

  And then her mom had been diagnosed with an early onset of Alzheimers and her whole world had to reboot. More duty. More stress. Her dreams of college and finally being free to live her life had vanished, seemingly overnight.

  The disease had reached its pinnacle a few months ago and she’d finally put her mom in a home, something that about ripped her heart out to do, but Allie just didn’t know how to take care of her anymore; not while trying to hold down a job at the same time. The guilt killed her every day, especially now that she’d taken out a loan to go to college.

  And all that money!

  Three-thousand dollars just on tuition for this semester. She had to do it, though. If she didn’t do something, she’d never be able to provide for her mom’s medical care. Medicaid and Medicare only went so far.

  The worst part was that there had been this secret part of her. A part that lurked in a dark corner of her soul that was glad her mom was finally being looked after by someone else. It caused her heart to flutter with traitorous excitement each time she thought of being able to go to school. To move away from her worries and some of her duties. That she could just be . . . a twenty-four-year-old girl, someone crazy and spur of the moment, someone who was currently being talked into going to a hell hole in the heart of the city to watch grown men pummel the ever-loving heck out of each other.

  She looked at Lainie and felt like she’d been sucked back into some kind of alternate universe. One where your only real worries ran within the parameters of a Jersey Shore episode.

  Lainie pulled her down into their ratty, second hand couch and upped the wattage on her grin. “The UMMA is only the coolest underground fight club ever! It’s so scary, and the guys are totally hot, Allie. Seriously. Just think! Tonight we’ll be sitting up close and personal with a bunch of sweaty animals all riding a wave of testosterone while they pound the crap out of each other.” She fanned herself with a fluttering hand, ready to pass out. “Oh, my gosh! It’s going to be so totally epic! Maybe one of them will pull down the other’s sh
orts!”

  This pried a grin from Allie and she shook her head. “Have you even been to one of these things?” Eyes cut to the discarded flyer sitting on the particle board lamp table. “Doesn’t look like a very good part of town.”

  “Whatever, Allie! It’ll be fine. All the dangerous people will be in the ring, trying to kill each other.”

  Allie knew tonight would rank up among the stupidest things she’d ever done if she were to actually agree to this madness. Chances were pretty high that at least one of them would be going home missing a purse. The flutter in her heart returned as excitement blossomed, though. This was what she had craved. The first of many-to-come college exploits.

  Lainie was already working on her second major; having swapped to psychology after having a mid-college-life crisis with only five credits left on a degree in graphic design. She probably did crazy stuff like attend underground fight clubs all the time.

  Lainie batted a set of mascara-laden eyelashes, her bottom lip sticking out. “Please?”

  Allie’s mouth tightened with a grimace. “Okay,” she conceded.

  “Awesome!” Lainie’s fingers wrapped around her cell phone and began immediately tapping over the screen. “I’ll text the crew.”

  Allie’s cringe cranked even tighter, crinkling up the corner of her nose. “The crew consisted of Jason, Tyson, Cole, and Jennifer. Cole and Jennifer were a couple. And Allie actually, really liked Jennifer. Jason and Tyson, though . . . well, Allie referred to them as Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Immaturity was a free-flowing river of abundance between their two empty skulls. They spent the majority of their time flexing their muscles, farting, and turning Lainie into a squealing puddle of ovaries.

  “What’s with the face?” Lainie pouted. “You look like I shoved bamboo spikes under your fingernails.”

  Allie gave herself a mental smack and quickly cleared her expression. “Nothing. Indigestion, maybe?”

  “Eww.” Lainie stepped back a little. Her eyebrows pinched up like she was having serious doubts about taking Allie under her wing, letting her occupy the recently vacated bedroom in the back of the rental house, or introducing her to the crew in the first place. “You’re not going to sulk tonight, are you?”

  “What? No! Honestly, it sounds fun.” Allie might have slightly over-exaggerated that statement, but added, “I’m glad you thought to invite me.”

  Lainie rolled her eyes as a smile crept back over her lips. “You can’t keep your head stuffed between your laptop and homework all day. It’d be practically criminal of me not to save you. You’re missing out on, like, the most important parts of college!”

  Allie smiled and gave a half-hearted, “What would I do without you?”

  Lainie’s eyes grew somber. “I seriously don’t know.”

  Chapter two

  It was a quarter past nine before Lainie and Allie finally got to the UMMA. They hurried down a narrow brick alleyway leading to the entrance while the click, click, click of Lainie’s six-inch slut heels trailed behind them. Allie looked around, taking in all kinds of shady characters.

  Holy criminy! This place had the heeby jeebies prickling all across the back of her neck and up her arms.

  Gang members stood sentinel at the corners of the intersecting streets, protecting their turf, the metallic glint of their pieces shoved just below their waistbands. Down the length of the sidewalk nappy-looking hookers stood in doorways and along the gutters, asses out, displaying the merchandise to any Johns who may be passing by.

  She turned to Lainie to whisper, “Thought this place was supposed to be scary? Where’s all the caution tape and chalked-out body lines?”

  Lainie grinned. The girl had gone all out tonight, plastering on a skin tight, black mini skirt the ‘ho’s across the street would tear their own hair weaves out to get a hold of, along with a matching slinky top that had some serious side-boob action going on. Her eyes were charcoaled black, her hair teased, and her lips slathered with some kind of lip gloss that had snake venom in it to make them plump.

  It was insane what girls did to themselves to look good. When it came to getting a guy’s attention, Allie figured it would probably be a lot easier to just show up naked.

  When Lainie rubbed her swollen lips together, Allie shuddered. Naked sure beat the heck out of snake venom any night. Though, she had to admit, the girl sure could rock the slut look. Lainie had do-me pheromones radiating from every pour.

  Allie bit her lip and looked down at her own outfit. Deep red material helped compliment the ghost skin she’d been plagued with her whole life. It was her curse to bear that she always burned instead of tanned. She sighed. Definitely came up short in the cleavage department; especially when compared to Lainie, who seemed to have taken greedy seconds from that end of the gene pool. When the murky overhead lights flickered over them both Allie noticed her chest was sparkling. Lainie had dumped a bunch of glitter crap down her top before she could stop her. Now she had a pair of disco balls rising from the top of her dress. Yay!

  Where Lainie went for glitz and glam, Allie preferred conservative comfort. It was only after Lainie had threatened to break both her legs and a few fingers that Allie had agreed to wear the dress instead of Levis. She’d been forced to put on makeup, too. Some borrowed eyeliner and shadow enhanced her plain brown eyes, while a tube of Harlot 69 red lipstick finished off the look. Allie had opted to pull her auburn locks up into a messy bun at the back of her head. Now she had the prick of about five million bobby pins stabbing her scalp with every step she took.

  But, hey, if it got Lainie off her back, then whatever.

  A group of tattooed-up guys were loitering near the corrugated, steel door that was the entrance to the UMMA. When Lainie and Allie neared, the guys looked down at them with dark, assessing eyes.

  Allie shot Lainie a nervous glance. “When is the crew going to get here?” Meat heads or not, Allie would feel a lot safer to be in with a familiar—primarily male—crowd.

  Lainie pulled out her phone, ignoring a come on from tattooed guy that had Allie’s cheeks matching her dress, and checked for new text messages. They passed through the doorway and Allie dropped her eyes, trying to hide from the creep-o’s stares.

  “Jennifer had a study group for chem lab, so they might be a half hour late.” She dropped her phone into a black, satin clutch. “The guys were going to swing by her apartment to pick her up on their way.”

  Allie and Lainie paid their admission and were swept away among a wave of bodies. The air was heavy and musky with sweat and perfume. Hard rap lyrics pounded through the room, while the bass vibrated over Allie’s toes and up her legs. The music seemed to ignite the atmosphere, setting Allie’s blood rushing through her veins. The crush of bodies weaved along to the beat while everywhere people shouted in wild conversation.

  A banner displaying the roster of fighters and their stats by weight class hung over the octagonal cage where the fights would take place.

  Allie’s eyes widened as she felt her nerves begin to surge. Blood splatters stained all over the blue mat inside.

  The fighters standing at the outskirts of the arena with their trainers looked like thugs: all huge bodies, battered faces, wrapped hands, and low-slung shorts.

  “Over there,” Lainie shouted and pointed to a group of fighters. “See that guy?”

  Allie scanned the group Lainie had indicated. Two fighters stood kitty-corner from them, well over six feet tall, bulging with muscle, noses crooked from being busted a few times, ears a cauliflowered disaster.

  “Which one are you pointing at?” Allie asked.

  Lainie jabbed her finger harder. “That guy behind the meat. The red-headed one.”

  Standing on her toes to see around the expanding mesh of people that were filing in, she caught a flash of bronze, untidy hair sticking up around a lean face. Oh, my. A stray lock shadowed a pair of moss-green eyes. The fighter had a hard jaw and cruel lips that were molded into a scowl. His face held none of the wear
and tear of the other fighters. He was slimmer, too; muscles elongated and almost leonine, but by no means could he be considered a lightweight. A set of rock hard shoulders bunched together while he wound white tape around his wrists and flexed his fingers. His abdomen was pure washboard material. Tongue-licking goodness. His back curved with muscle that framed the line of spine and delved into spandex (yes!) shorts.

  Allie felt her mouth growing moist just looking at him.

  Lainie giggled. “Guess you found him, huh?”

  Allie nodded and swallowed.

  “Jennifer said we had to look for him. Total lay material, yeah?”

  Though the word choice had her cheeks turning pink, Allie couldn’t argue with that—couldn’t drag her eyes away from his body, either. He was dangerous and sexy. A complete predator.

  “What’s his name?”

  Lainie shook her head. “Dunno. Everyone just calls him the merc. He’s supposed to be some kind of ringer. Undefeated, too, with something crazy like ten K.O.’s under his belt. The one everyone wants to beat. He’s a middle weight fighter, but they’ve started putting him up against the heavier guys just to see if anyone can touch him.”

  Allie’s eyebrows rose. “What’s he doing at the UMMA?” Shouldn’t someone like that go pro?

  Lainie shook her head. “He’s had offers to move up, but wasn’t interested, I guess.”

  “Huh,” was all Allie could reply. She didn’t know enough about Mixed Martial Arts to add anything of intelligence. Never actually seen a fight for herself. All she knew about it was that MMA was a kind of mix between boxing and wrestling—minus all the rules. Oh, and the Brazilians kicked ass at it.

  “Totally,” Lainie agreed. “Wouldn’t mind having his shorts pulled down, hmmm? Do you think that’s a cup he’s wearing, or all him?”

  Allie’s eyes locked down there before she could stop herself and fire immediately rushed to her face. “Gross, Lainie!” Damn it, her throat had turned into the Sahara desert. She’d managed to go from nervous, to scared, to totally psyched, to crazy lusty all within the last fifteen minutes. “I could seriously get into this MMA stuff,” she agreed.