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She smiled at me, and I waited for her to leave, then hit the green button on my phone. “What’s up?”
“I have a problem,” Les said.
I hung my head, waiting for the blow.
“Can you come?”
“Aye.” I ended the call and tore off in a hurry.
The roads were dry now, making it easier for me to push the speed. Twenty minutes later, I parked my bike and started for the hospital entrance, the helmet tucked under my arm as I walked.
I closed in on the building but halted a few meters away.
It was him.
I’d done my best to avoid him for so long. Feck Les for bringing him back into my life.
Donovan stood off to the side of the hospital with one of his lackeys. His thinning black hair was slicked back like normal, and his fat lips flipped into a broad grin. “There you are, mate. Been expecting ya.”
Why the feck didn’t Les tell me Donovan was here? What the bleedin’ hell was going on?
I tried to gather my thoughts as I approached him and the thug to his right.
“Why are ya here?” I asked once in front of the pair of arseholes. I dropped the helmet to the ground, preparing myself for a fight.
Donovan lit his cigarette, ignoring the “no smoking” sign just behind his shoulder, and then cocked his head, his pockmarked face shifting up. His dark eyes found mine, and I stood my ground, my jaw ticking as I grappled with the emotions that soared through me.
Don’t start a goddamn war with him, I told myself. But I was unable to listen to my own damn commands—my hands fisted at my sides as I eyed the giant by Donovan. “I asked why you’re here.” I attempted to maintain control of my twitchy palms by pressing my fingertips even harder into them.
“I’m guessing Les didn’t tell you.” Donovan blew a puff of smoke my way, and I dodged my head to the side. I didn’t want anything that touched him near my face.
“Get to it, will ya!” I shouted.
“Les owes me fifty large.”
Fifty thousand? Jesus, did Les bet on himself in the fight? I rolled my eyes. “Dammit, Donovan. You know I’m good for it. I’ll go to the bank in the morning when they’re open.”
“That’s not enough.”
Great, he wanted interest. Why should I be surprised? Well, I didn’t care. As long as Donovan left Les alone—for good—I’d pay nearly anything. “I don’t want Les fighting again once the debt has been settled.”
Donovan’s deep laughter had me lowering my head in disgust. “He’s already agreed to a rematch against Frankie in November.”
That’s why Les wanted to fight Frankie again. My mouth tightened, and I took a step back, my eyes widening a fraction. “No. Hell no. If he thinks he has to fight to try and pay you back—”
“Of course not. If you’d shut your bleeding cakehole and let me explain.” He put out his cigarette and closed the gap between us. “There’s only one way Les is off the hook. I’ll forget the fifty plus interest, and I’ll even pull him from the fight if . . .”
Don’t say it. Don’t fecking say it.
“. . . you fight Frankie.”
I closed my eyes.
My mind gathered images from my past, and I could feel my hands trembling at my sides.
“Fight.” Donovan’s hot breath was near my face, and I stepped back, my eyes flashing open.
“No.”
