“They’ll know he’d been in a fight.”
“But they can’t prove who with, or where.”
Aaron was almost at the car, and they must have been watching him through the tinted windows because a second later the driver’s side door opened and Blake got out. “Hunter.”
“Blake.”
“Good fight tonight. Nice to see it last a bit longer than your usual two rounds and down.” He said it as matter of fact, as though he hadn’t given Aaron those specific instructions earlier on in the night.
Aaron shrugged and replied in the same bored tone, “He was better than my usual opponents, that’s all.”
Blake winked at him like they shared some sort of secret, then walked to the back of the car and opened the door. “Mr Smith would like to talk to you for a moment, if you don’t mind?”
Like it was a choice.
“Of course.” He walked past Blake and got into the car, then tried not to flinch at the slam of the door behind him.
Smith watched him from his seat, angled to face Aaron, his back to the door. “You fought well tonight.”
“Thanks.”
“I was impressed with your stamina. I don’t think it’s really been tested before.”
Aaron’s skin crawled under Smith’s wandering gaze. It travelled over him, inspecting every visible mark and lingering where his clothes covered other supposed injuries.
“I know you usually leave two or three weeks between fights, but I’d like you to fight next Friday.”
“I won’t have healed properly by then,” Aaron protested. The bruises would still be vivid, obvious. Would that much make-up hold up during a fight? Aaron was good enough to make it look realistic for someone he passed in the street, for a fleeting glance, but up close and personal in a fight? No way.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” He braced for Smith’s anger. Aaron assumed he wasn’t used to being told no.
But instead, Smith just nodded in what appeared to be acceptance. “I understand, but please just think about it. The texts will be sent out as usual Thursday night. If you change your mind, there’s a spot for you.”
Aaron glanced at the door. Were they done? Could he leave?
“That’ll be all, Hunter. For now.”
Aaron wasn’t keen on the emphasis he put onfor now,but hopefully all this would be over and done with before they asked him to do anything else.
HE WAITED until he was clear of the building before texting Michael.
You get out ok?
The reply was immediate.Yeah, no problems.
Thank fuck. I’ve left Smith. See you back at the flat.
Okay.
Neither of them had mentioned anything about what had happened, but via text wasn’t the way to do it.
Since Harry was hopefully his ride home, he texted him next.I’m out. Where are you now?
Leaning against the wall of the nearest building, he waited for Harry to reply. A minute or so later his phoned buzzed in his hand, Harry’s text telling him he was parked about a five-minutes walk away.
On my way.He typed out and set off.
Walking quickly with his head down, Aaron listened out for anyone following him. The odd shifter scent caught his attention, but all of it old, and no footsteps sounded from the direction he’d come.
