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He sauntered off, still eating that carrot.
Scout was back and glaring over my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Wait. What?”
He took my hand, and we began winding our way through the crowd. The few who looked back, glimpsed him in time to recognize him, stepped back, started to say his name, but he ignored them all as he pushed outside and headed straight toward his truck.
I waited until we got into the truck. “What happened back there? Who was that guy—”
“Don’t,” Scout barked, not looking at me once as he clipped on his seatbelt, started the truck, and peeled out of the parking lot. “Don’t bring up that guy.”
“Wh—”
“Ever, Ramsay.” He seared me with a look before blinking, and his usual mask was back in place over his face. “And Rice is going back to jail.”
“Wha—just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Wait. What? You need to explain that to me. I was the one he was trying to drag into the locker room.” My voice rose.
He cursed and then swung into a parking lot. It was after-hours so it was empty. A lone light was in the middle. Scout pulled over, putting the vehicle in park. “What do you want to know?”
“I—” I snapped, sick of being hauled around and all the angry tones. “I don’t know! Maybe what was Rice going to do to me? Why’s he going to jail? Don’t I need to give a statement? What happened with you and Kunz?” And since I was on a roll. “And I don’t want to talk about you and me or what we’re doing. I like what we’re doing. I don’t want it to end. Okay?”
He didn’t answer right away.
“Okay?”
He was scowling at me as he quietly said, “If they need your statement, they’ll contact you. If you want to give one, I know the number, but they don’t need it. Rice isn’t supposed to be anywhere in the same vicinity as this league’s fights. He was banned a while back. Him catching trespassing charges will violate whatever bond he’s out on, and he’s going to go back to jail.”
“It happens like that?”
“Sometimes. With him, I think so. Cohen’s uncle is a detective. He’s told me things about what could happen with Rice.”
Oh. “And Kunz?”
“Kunz and I had words. That was it.”
His phone lit up.
Scout muttered a curse, accepting the call. “You psychic now?”
There was silence before a smooth laugh came through. “You were talking about me? Hope it was all good.” It was Kunz.
“It’ll never be good about you. What do you want?”
“I just heard what Rice did—or tried to do, and wanted to reach out. He wasn’t there with me. He knew I’d be there, found me, and asked if I wanted to employ him.” He waited a beat. “I turned him down. Latest rumor spreading is that he saw Williams, thought he could threaten her to get her to get you off his back about Amalia.” Another beat of silence. “He’s not the brightest. But, again, he had nothing to do with me. I’m not endorsing what he tried to do. I’m calling to let Williams know that she didn’t need to be scared of me tonight, and if anything is said to Theresa, you know, put the right slant on it.”
Scout cursed. “You’re calling so we’ll put in a good word for you with Garcia?”
“Not a good word. Just not a wrong word. That’s all.”
I stopped listening to them.
Macon was going to threaten me. That was sinking in. Threaten.
New relief hit my sternum. I could handle threats. Other stuff—ice lined my organs.
Scout had been studying me, seeing my reaction. “Thanks for the info.”
“Now, about you—”
Scout ended the call, still focusing on me. “You okay?”
I swallowed, the pit moving up in my throat. “Not really.”
“I didn’t think—I’m sorry. It was a bad idea to bring you here.”
I swung back to him. “Why?”
He paused.
“Why do you say that? Before Kunz and Rice, I liked it. I liked being here.” With him.
A shadow flickered in his gaze. “The violence. The undertones—”
“Violence doesn’t scare me. It’s a part of life. What scares me is how it’s used, and you’ve never used it the wrong way for me. Kunz wasn’t hurting me when he was holding my arms. I almost walked into him, and he caught me so I didn’t fall back. I was about to step away, and Scout, he would’ve let me go. I knew that in my gut. Rice, though. He was different.”
His eyebrows lowered. “Kunz isn’t a good guy.”
“Maybe not, but tonight, he wasn’t the one who scared me. All I’m saying. That’s it.”
He continued to hold my gaze before slowing nodding. Some pressure in the truck lifted, easing up. “Okay.”
I bit my lip, unsure. “Can I ask who that older guy was?”
His mouth flattened before he sat back, his hands going to the gears. “No. It’s not personal. Just, he doesn’t matter.”
