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But of course not. She had to come find me.
She had to fuckingstalk me.
And so I had to improvise.
I had to fucking scare her somehow. Scare her away for good.
Scare her back to the fucking love of her life.
“You still alive?”
My brother’s voice wakes me up.
Because of course that’s what I need right now. The third degree from my noble big brother.
I eye him across the conference room table. “Unfortunately.”
Always put together and polished, he eyes me back, his face a mask of disapproval. “There are better ways to kill yourself.”
I lick my split lip, loving the sting. “What can I say, I like to torture myself.”
“Is that what you do? At that gym of yours.”
I stare at him for a few beats before saying, “For the millionth time, it’s a boxing gym. I’d love to tell you that we sit around and braid each other’s hair and talk about our next knitting project. But that would be a lie and I’m not a liar. Goes against my principles.”
I shoot him a mock smile.
My big brother stares at me flatly. “Apart from the fact that it makes a very bad impression on our partners, sitting across from a street thug while discussing land permits and other hotel-related needs, I’d like to remind you that I have a black belt in karate. I’ve also been trained in jujitsu and mixed martial arts and I never looked like that.”
I throw him a shrug. “Don’t know if you’ve heard, but word around the water cooler is that I’m a fuck-up.” I point at my bruised face. “That’s where that comes from.”
Homer clenches his jaw in further disapproval. “I can very easily find out what’s going on at that gym. You’re aware of that, aren’t you? I’m giving you a chance to come clean.”
“About what?”
“If you’re mixed up in something bad.” He looks over my face again. “Something dangerous.”
“And if I am?”
He breathes out sharply. “Then I put a stop to it.”
The only bad thing that’s going on is that I’m throwing fights, and I’m fucking good at it. Despite that though, I messed up on my last, pissing a lot of people off. Including my boss, Ark Reinhardt. Since this was my first offense, my only punishment was a clipped one-sentence warning and two more fights on my schedule this week. To make up for the lost money.
Ark is very good at taking care of his fighters and keeping his business legit and on the up side. Meaning even if my brother sets his cronies on him, they probably won’t be able to find much.
But I don’t want him to.
I don’t want him to interfere in my business, or to look like that.
Like he’s doing me some kind of favor. Like he’s swooping down to be my hero.
I don’t need any fucking heroes.
I became my own hero and everyone’s villain a very long time ago.
“Why, so you can appease your guilt? For not coming to my rescue when I really needed you.” I clench my teeth. “I didn’t. And I don’t now. I’m not your charity project. You wanna get one, you go to the shelter and adopt a fucking puppy, all right?”
I know I’ve pissed him off.
