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“Am I supposed to be frightened?” That wasn’t the emotion churning through my gut. Anger, yes. Icy cold resolve, absolutely. But fear? Fuck no.
That slimy bastard and his lynch mob could go to hell, and I’d be happy to send them there.
“No. They enjoy that too much.” His hands gripped the wheel tightly enough that his knuckles whitened. “You’re supposed to be smart. To not lead with your dick and your ego, but your head.”
“I’m not leading with anything yet. I’m sitting here. For now.”
“Fox.” The quelling look he sent me made me lock my jaw. I didn’t need him trying to calm me down. I didn’t need anything from him. Neither did Mia. It was his goddamned fault we’d even met that asshole Lorenzo.
His fault, and yours. He sure didn’t pour the alcohol down your throat.
“I took care of it,” he said when I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. If I tried, there was a good chance I’d launch myself across the seat and ram my fist in his face instead. I owed him a good punch to the eye for what he’d done to me last winter.
Sometimes it took a while to even the score, but I could be patient.
He rolled his neck until it cracked. “Look, I’m not the enemy here.”
“Really? Because you’re not my friend. Not hers. Not anything to us.”
“Perhaps not. But right now, I’m the only thing protecting the woman you love.”
Tapping my bunched fist against my equally tensed thigh, I narrowed my eyes. “You better quit speaking in riddles and get to the goddamn point.”
He flipped on his turn signal and arrowed into The Cage’s parking lot. After sliding into a space far from the building, he turned off the car. “Has she been training?”
“You know she has. You fought with her yesterday.”
He gave a short nod. “Yeah, and she looked good. That doesn’t mean she’s been keeping up with her regular schedule.”
The words she looked good didn’t sound like the assessment of a competitor in my book. To me, they sounded like he’d decided to go for a two-fer with the Anderson sisters. “You better fucking dial it back, or we’re going to have a problem.”
He rolled his eyes at me. Actually rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not interested in her that way. She’s not my type.”
“Right.”
“Are you able to take her on as a client?” he asked, gliding over my objection as if it hadn’t existed. “I know your roster is pretty full.”
“Client for what?” I exploded. “Tell me what the hell you’re suggesting before I suggest my fist meet your face.”
He didn’t roll his eyes this time. Didn’t even glance my way. “They want her to fight.”
“So the fuck what? They have no right to—”
“Trust me, this is the better option all around.” He blew out a breath and finally slid his gaze toward me. “After last night, do you think she’s mentally capable of fighting?”
“Of course. She’s capable of anything. She just checked out for a little while. She’ll be fine.” I had to hope that’d be true.
“Then this is the only option, Fox.”
I remained silent. I had no reason to trust him. No reason to even listen to him. The only prior relationship we had involved him putting me in the hospital and looking at my girlfriend’s sister as if he could give her an orgasm via his eyeballs. Nothing that indicated I should go along with any of his half-assed ideas.
So what if he’d been tolerable last night when I’d been looking to get wasted? Big deal. He’d been cool with the Mia situation too, but a few minutes of decent didn’t wipe out months of douche.
“They like to bet on the fights,” he said, as if that wasn’t obvious. “They’re willing to do whatever it takes to make bank. And they like the thrills. The fact that it’s illegal, for one. That women are involved now too is just a bonus.”
“She doesn’t fight anymore,” I said, cracking my knuckles. Repeatedly.
“She’s going to have to. One fight, Fox. It’s not
