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CHAPTER ONE
REESE
The bell rings, deeming me the winner of the match. Heavily breathing, I grin at the audience and let the referee raise my arm. With this match, I get to keep my title as heavyweight champ.
Hyped from the fight, I head for the locker room, more than ready to shower, get cleaned up, and go out to celebrate my win. Maybe find a girl or two to spend my night with. Being in the limelight, I have women falling at my feet, constantly wanting a night to see if I’m just as good in bed as I am out of it. And after not having sex for a few days, I could definitely use the relief. It’s a thing with me that goes back to before I became a professional boxer. My buddy Travis and his dad always said, ‘No sex the day of weigh-in or the match itself.’ I’ve stuck to it, and now I’m ready to let loose.
I shower and let the water hit my body with its warm spray. I enjoy the feel of it and could stay here longer, but I can’t. Shutting the water off, I grab a towel and dry off while heading to my bag that has my clothes. My thoughts are on what I’ve got to do now that I’ve won. I still have to meet with the press before I can head out.
Growing up, we didn’t have much. My mom raised me, my brother, and my little sister alone. If not for Bright’s Boxing Gym, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I don’t take for granted what I’ve been given the chance to do. Boxing isn’t just a sport to me. It’s who I am. It’s something I always mention when asked by the press, though I leave out the part about my mom being a single mother. Our dad took off when we were kids, and my brother, Rhett, and I took on the role of being there for our little sister, Reyna. Not easy but still we did it.
I find if I give the media a small bit to appease their curiosity, they’ll leave my family out of the public eye. I like my privacy, and this way, I get it at least marginally.
An hour later, I finished speaking to the reporters and answering questions, and I’m relieved to be able to leave. As I head to my dark green Range Rover, I hear my name being called and groan, recognizing who it is.
Ezra.
One of the promoters, whom everyone knows is nothing more than a slimeball. He’s been known to cause problems for people, and I’ve done everything I could to keep him away from me.
“What can I do for you, Ezra?” I ask, spinning to face him.
“I wanted to speak to you about your upcoming match.”
“What about it?” I quirk a brow and wait to find out what he’s going to say.
“You’re fighting Niko in three months,” he starts, and I nod in agreement. “He’s going for your title, and I’m willing to pay for you to lose the match to him.”
I stare at Ezra for a long moment in silence, his suggestion reeling in my head. “You can’t be serious,” I scoff, my lip curling at one edge. “There’s no way I’m giving into a fight and just handing over my title to someone. Way I see it, if he wants it, he’ll have to work for it.”
“Dyer, you need to think about this . . . I’m willing to pay you more than you’ll make in a year to lose this next match.”
“Not going to happen,” I say, stepping forward and getting in his face. My nostrils flare as my temper rises. I do my best to keep my anger in check sometimes. I don’t like losing my shit—ever. Its why Mom signed us up at the gym for lessons and whatnot. To help my brother but mostly me with my anger issues. I do pretty well with it, but there are moments—like now—that I find it harder.
“You don’t take the deal, we’ll have issues, Dyer. I’ll make life a hell of a lot harder for you than it has to be,” Ezra warns.
“I’m not giving in to your demands, Ezra,” I grind out. “If Niko wants my title, then he can fight me fair and square for it.”
I turn to leave but stop when Ezra calls my name again. I give him a side look, warning him to back off.
“Last chance, Dyer. I’d hate for something to hit the news about your brother and how he’s been arrested recently.” He smirks. “Even better, I’d hate for something to happen to that pretty little sister of yours or even your mother. For her age, she’s a look—”
He doesn’t get to finish his threats as I turn fully to him and slam my fist in the side of Ezra’s face, connecting with his nose with enough force to cause him to stagger backward several steps. I snarl, “Stay the fuck away from my family.” The very fact he would even attempt to bring my family into his ploy is enough to send me over the edge. You don’t go after my family without me fucking you up. Ezra’s lucky I only punched him instead of doing what I wanted to and beating the shit out of him.
I spin away from him and stalk the rest of the way to my Range Rover, throw my bag in the backseat and slam the door shut. Without looking back, I hop in the driver’s seat and head to my loft I keep here in Vegas. It’s not as nice as my home back in Colorado, but it works for me, considering I’m not home much, and when I am, I’m sleeping or fucking. Though it’s a rare occasion for me to have a woman at my place. I always go to theirs or a hotel.
Hell, thanks to Ezra, my night is ruined, and I’m not thrilled about it in the least bit.
* * *
The buzzing at my door wakes me and I groan as I check the time. “Who the fuck would be here this time of the morning?” I grumble, I climb out of bed grabbing a pair of loose sweatpants yanking them over my legs and pulling them up enough to hang on my hips.
I make it to the door and run a hand over my face, tired, and wanting to go back to sleep. As I open the door, I blink in surprise at the sight of two officers standing there. “Can I help you?” I ask.
“Reese Dyer?” one of the officers asks in return.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Can you please turn around and place your hands behind your back?” the second officer asks politely, giving me an apologetic look.
