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“Kingston, can you step away for a minute?” Tristan asks. I don’t like the sound of his voice. Last time someone said this to me, someone’s apartment had been broken into.
“Go ahead and get on, I’ll be up in a minute,” I tell the others.
“Tell me,” I say to him so he will spit it out, I know it’s bad.
“The gym is trashed,” Tristan informs me, “I don’t know when this happened, but it had to be after the fight.”
“Fuck,” I grumble. A lifetime of work went into that gym, my pride and joy.
“I called Hayes and gave a statement. He’s on his way to go over everything. There is graffiti on the walls saying things like she’s mine, leave her alone. Well, you get my drift.”
“We both know who did this,” I snarl.
“And your gloves are missing,” he adds.
“Awesome. Grab another pair, a good pair. I’ll work them out when we get to New York. Oh, and give Hayes the keys and ask him to call a clean-up crew. Hurry to the hangar,” I hang up and have to take a breath before getting on the plane. I’m pissed as all hell.
But I’m not going to think about it now. I have this fight to worry about.
“Everything okay?” Briar asks.
“Oh yeah. He wanted to make sure he got the right gloves,” I ask the flight attendant for a beer, not even caring that it’s nine in the morning.
“Okay, that doesn’t look like it was about gloves,” Remo points out. Thanks, Captain Obvious, though I keep that to myself.
“I guess I shouldn’t lie. Lane trashed the gym, it’s all ruined,” I sniff.
“Oh no,” Briar tears up.
“Don’t do that,” I wipe a tear away.
“This is all because of me, it’s my fault,” she cries out.
“No, it’s because Lane is an asshole. King won’t admit it, but that kid wasn’t right from day one. The reason he was on the street is because he beat up his dad, for no reason. His excuse was that his dad beat him. He stole from King, and King would give him second chances. Lane beat up a man on the street who accidently brushed him. He acts like he’s a star, but he’s not. He thinks he can get away with anything,” Remo snarls.
Tell me how you really feel, Remo.
“I didn’t want to see it. But my eyes are wide open,” I admit.
“It’s not your fault,” Tristan says, making us all jump.
“Dammit, Tristan,” I snap.
“Sorry,” he shrugs, stashing the bag of gear before taking a seat.
“What did Hayes say?”
“He will clean it up, but I don’t think anything is salvageable,” Tristan says.
“We’ll figure that out when we get back. I feel like shit is piling up and all because I like a girl,” I snap.
“Love. You love her,” Caleb throws at me.
“Thanks, asshole. Yes, love. He’s like a little kid that didn’t get his way,” I growl.
“One day at a time,” Remo reminds me.
“Yeah,” I let the pilot know we’re ready and I settle in for the flight.
