Baller: An Interracial MMA Stepbrother Romance Read Online Free PDF

redhead, but Red didn’t look scared.
    “Well, y’all don’t need an introduction,” the redhead grinned, with a redneck accent that hovered between Texas and Atlanta. “’Baller’ Alexander. It’s fuckin’ pleasure, hoss.” He held out a big, calloused hand.
    Hannibal stared at it, and then shook it cautiously.
    “The name’s Rodney Callahan,” the stranger introduced himself, “but everybody calls me Red. And I’ve been lookin’ forward to meetin’ you, Baller – ever since your brother here started fightin’.”
    Hannibal didn’t say anything. He just grunted.
    If Red was offended, he didn’t show it. He just turned to Kristen, who was cowering behind Hannibal’s comforting bulk.
    “An’ who’s this lovely lil’ lady?” Red offered his hand again. When Kristen meekly offered hers, the redneck lifted it to his mouth and planted a bristly kiss on it. “Ain’t you just a cool drink o’ water? You bangin’ one of these boys?” Then Red snorted lasciviously. “Or both of ‘em?”
    “She’s our stepsister ,” Hannibal growled, with an unspoken suggestion in his voice that Red ought to stop talking about her that way.
    Red looked mean, but he was smart. He dropped the subject.
    “You here to fight, Baller?” The cowboy asked. “Or just to watch?” He patted Jules on one of his skinny arms. “Your little bro here did good work last week.”
    “You ain’t seen nuttin’ yet, Red,” Jules grinned. “I’ma be a mother fuckin’ champion walking out of here tonight.”
    “I’m sure you will,” Red grinned – and then his eyes narrowed. With an icy coldness in his voice, he demanded: “You’ve got your purse money, though, right son?”
    Jules nodded eagerly, and produced his box of crumpled twenties.
    “Five thousand dollars, Red.”
    The redneck narrowed his eyes, and Hannibal could see that he was silently calculating how much was in the box. Hannibal had seen coke dealers on the strip work the same way.
    “Looks good,” and just like the dealers did, the moment Red had determined that the cash was all there, he pretended like he didn’t give a shit about it. “You’re on at ten, son. Go prep.”
    And, with that, Red passed the box of cash to one of his guards, and turned to Hannibal and Kristen.
    “We’ll take good care of your lil’ brother,” the redneck promised, as one of the guards led Jules off to get ready. “But I wanna take good care of you .” He snorted loudly. “Ain’t all that often we have a real fighter down these parts. Let me get you a drink and show you around.”
    Hannibal stood silently for a second, peering down at the bearded redneck.
    The hairs on the back of Hannibal’s neck were standing up. He felt nervous – and that wasn’t a feeling that came easily to a guy like him.
    But he was also curious. This underground fight league seemed like a big deal – much bigger than the basement fight clubs you read about in the crime section of the local paper.
    “Sure,” swallowing his nerves, the big fighter forced himself to smile, and nodded at Red. “I’d like that.”
    Red grinned, showing off his mismatched teeth.
    “C’mon. I’ll show you around.” And then he was off, wordlessly expecting Hannibal to follow him.
    Baller turned and looked down at Kristen. His stepsister looked even more nervous than he did.
    Without even thinking about it, he offered her his big hand.
    She entwined her pale fingers in his dark ones, and squeezed.
    Hand in hand, they followed this loudmouth redneck into the warehouse.

Chapter Ten
     
    Hannibal
     
    Inside, the music was so loud they could barely hear each other speak. There must have been five hundred people crammed into the warehouse – all surrounding a makeshift MMA octagon made out of scaffolding and wire fencing.
    “C’mon up to the VIP section,” Red grinned, shouldering his way through the crowd. Hannibal noticed that the folks gathered for the fight got out of the cowboy’s way real quick