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I could hear the smile in Emma’s voice. “Do you remember the meteorologist job I applied for?”
I could only assume she got it by the excitement in her voice. “Yeah,” I answered.
Emma squealed. “They hired me. I start in a few weeks.”
Everything was coming together for her and Carter, and I couldn’t be happier. “Emma, that’s amazing. I’m so ecstatic for you.”
“Thanks, sis. I never thought things would turn out the way they have.”
Yeah, I never thought I’d be in deep with the mafia, but here I was. She was able to get away from it while I found myself smack dab in the middle.
A car engine vroomed in the distance, and it drew closer. “Emma, I have to go. Talk to you soon?”
“Sounds good,” she said, “Have fun shopping.”
“I will.”
I ended the call and walked back to the front door just as a bright yellow Porsche pulled into the driveway. Mouth gaping, I slipped my phone back into my bag as Trey Miller stepped out of the car, looking completely different. He no longer had his long ash brown hair in his signature man bun. Instead, it was cut close, and he wore a Fendi T-shirt that I knew was around seven hundred dollars. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where he got the money to pay for that sports car and new clothes.
Trey hadn’t noticed me yet, but when he lifted his gaze toward the door, he stopped cold in his tracks. “Reagan?”
I stepped closer to him. “Hello, Trey.”
His gaze narrowed, and I could tell he didn’t know what to think. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I could ask you the same thing, but I already know.”
Trey laughed nervously. “What do you mean?”
“You’re fighting for the Sellingers,” I said, eyes never wavering from his.
Jaw clenched, he moved his focus elsewhere. “You can’t tell anyone, Reagan. It’ll ruin my UFC career.” When I didn’t respond, he jerked his attention back to me, his expression torn. There was fear in his big brown eyes.
“I’m not going to say anything, Trey. As you can see, I’m here as well. I need you to keep this to yourself.”
A sigh escaped his lips. “You don’t have to worry. I signed a contract not to speak about anything that goes on here. They’ll kill me if I do.”
He smiled as if it was just words, but I knew the truth. Theywouldkill him.
CHAPTER18
BRADEN
My body was still bruised from the accident, so Carter and I didn’t do much sparring at the gym. Instead, I spent my time training two thirteen-year-old boys. I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed coaching and seeing the enthusiasm on a young kid’s face. My plan was to compete in the UFC for several more years and then coach full time.
“Do you want me to lock up so you can head out?” Natalie asked.
It was dark outside, and I didn’t want her to walk alone into the parking lot. She was only eighteen, petite, and a beautiful young girl.
“Definitely, not,” I told her. “We can leave together.”
She nodded and finished cleaning the weight bench. “Sounds good to me. The parking lot creeps me out.”
The gym was about to close, and there was only one guy left on the weight bench who was about to leave. His name was Carson Stanford, and he was a personal trainer for several of the local NFL players in the area. He had a private gym in his home, but he enjoyed being at Fightanium, always saying the energy motivated him.
Carson wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirt and waved. “Sorry about that. I ran a little late tonight.”
“It’s okay,” I called out. “We enjoy having you.” Once Carson walked out the door, I locked it and helped Natalie clean the rest of the machines.
