by E. M. Moore
Brawler threads his fingers through my hair and then pulls me to his chest again. “Our relationship just got a whole lot crazier.”
I smile into his chest. It isn’t often that Brawler jokes. Why he chose this specific time, I’m not sure.
He kisses the top of my head. “I mean it, Kyla. I’m in. I get it. You can trust me with anything.”
Guilt bubbles up. “My name’s not really Kyla.”
His lips curve against my scalp. “Of course, it’s not.”
“But I like Kyla better,” I say quickly. Half my mom and half my dad. It reminds me every day of what I’m doing here.
He pulls away, trailing his finger over my bottom lip. “It suits you.”
He hasn’t even heard the reason behind my name yet. He will. I angle my face upward and slide my hands around Brawler’s neck to pull him to me, sealing this moment of breaking down barriers between us with a kiss.
He knows who I am. He knows why I’m here. Right now, he knows me better than anyone.
14
Now that Brawler knows everything about me, it’s harder to pretend. At the gym, I keep sneaking glances at him. Jax even catches me on the chin for it. He pulled it at the last minute so it didn’t hurt as much as it could have, but still. I’m a wreck today.
“Where’s your focus, Kyla?” Jax asks, irritation lacing his voice. “Aren’t you fighting this weekend?”
I grit my teeth. I am fighting this weekend, thank fuck. It gives me something else to focus on instead of my real-fake boyfriend, the gangster’s son, and my fake-real boyfriends, the fighter and the quarterback.
Whoa. Did I just think of them as all my boyfriends? Jax must’ve hit me harder than I thought.
Jax’s glove brushes my forehead. “Come on. I don’t have time to waste on someone whose head isn’t in the game. Let’s go.” He punches his gloves together in front of him and bounces on his toes.
Heat creeps up my cheeks while Finn looks over warily, raising an eyebrow at his brother. Sure, Johnny paid enough to get us private lessons, so there’s actually no one else in the gym while we’re here, but Jax is right. I’m out of focus. Distracted. Stressed. Did I mention fucking horny? All revved up with nowhere to put it. That’s what happens when you have three boyfriends and two of them you can’t touch in public, and the other, you literally can’t touch because his dad’s an overbearing asshat, not to mention a douchebag murderer.
Jax throws another punch at me, and this time, I dodge out of the way just in time. He grins, his neon green mouthpiece peeking through his parted lips. “That’s it. Come on.”
We circle one another. I get in a few good jabs, making sure to get in and get out. Jax has longer arms than me. I can’t stay in his zone or he’ll take me out fast. I have to get in where I can get him, then pop right back out before he has a chance to retaliate. It’s like a fun game where the reward is not getting hit and the punishment is getting knocked upside the head.
Sweat trickles between my breasts. The headgear is almost suffocating, perspiration dampening the shorter hairs at my neck. I flex my fingers inside the gloves as I look for another opening. I’m fighting a girl this weekend. I haven’t heard much about her other than that she’s above Cherry in the female pecking order. To be honest, and this will sound fucking cocky as shit, but I’m not worried. I haven’t had much time to think about my last fight because of what happened afterward, but I beat Evan. That was the most nervous I’ve ever been before a fight, and I won.
Jax lands a punch straight in the middle of my face, and I stagger back.
“Come on, Princess!”
I roar in frustration, grabbing my headgear off and throwing it to the ring. Jax smirks, but Finn ducks underneath the ropes to enter the ring. “Hey, hey.” He slides his brother an incredulous look.
“If you don’t like that name, stop acting like one.”
“Jesus, Jax. What do you think ‘hey, hey’ means?” Finn throws at him.
Brawler enters the ring next, coming up behind me. He’s so close that it immediately relaxes me. “You okay?”
“I’m just frustrated at myself.”
Jax arches a brow at his brother as if to say, “I told you so.” He takes his gloves off and then his headgear, highlighting his dark hair and knuckle tattoos once more. “I can tell you’re thinking too much.”
Brawler places his hand on my shoulder. I immediately stiffen, but that isn’t weird, right? Brawler is…what? My fight organizer? He can touch me, can’t he? I mean, I’m allowed to have friends, aren’t I?
Brawler slips his hand off as soon as he feels my reaction.
“I know you know this, Kyla,” Jax says, using my real name again. He only used Princess before to get a rise out of me. Asshole. At least it worked. “But your head has to be in the present. We can’t spar if you’re not in it.”
I nod, knowingly. He’s one hundred percent right.
Finn quirks a smile. “I volunteer as a good listener.” He winks at me and pops his eyebrows up his forehead suggestively.
“Kyla has enough fanboys.” Magnum’s voice sounds just behind us. He’s moved closer. The sound of me throwing my headgear down probably caught his attention.
Finn mouths ‘fanboy’ to his brother as if he’s all broken up about being called that. Me? My back stiffens. Magnum says I can trust him, but that sounded a hell of a lot like a jibe. Maybe he disapproves of the whole Brawler and Oscar thing.
I follow Jax’s lead and take off my gloves. Finn had a pair of neon pink ones here waiting for me today, and I’m kind of in love with them. He also stocked up on more clothes in the apparel section, getting cuter sports bras and more women’s gear in. Earlier, he asked if he could take a picture of me decked out in my fighting gear, so he could put it up in the gym. He thinks it will attract customers or something like that.
I think he’s delusional, but I agreed anyway. That is, I agreed until Magnum spoke over top of me and told me I’d have to check with Johnny. Then, Finn rambled on about doing a legit photo shoot in the gym with lighting, makeup, and a real photographer. The Heights Crew guys are a lot like celebrities in the Heights. Everyone knows who they are. They’re celebrities for the real world, dealing in organized crime rather than starring in fictional tales about organized crime. Maybe he thinks that’s what I’m going to be, but I still think he’s crazy.
Finn throws me a fresh hand towel, and I use it to wipe the sweat from my face and hands. He gestures toward it with a mocking smile. “What do you think, bro? Sell that on eBay?”
My mouth drops. He goes to take it back from me, and I move it out of his reach.
“Oh, come on,” Finn says, laughing now.
“No one wants this shit.” I grip my sweat towel tighter in my hands, trying to figure out if he’s joking or not.
He takes a slug of water. “You obviously haven’t heard anyone talking about you lately. Everyone who steps in here is buzzing about The Princess. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have to get a bigger venue to hold your fights. You’ll be turning people away.”
I turn to glance at Brawler. His neck pulses, moving the ink displayed there up and down. It’s fascinating watching it, as if the angel is alive. But what the hell? Sweat towels? He’s certifiable.
“It’s been brought up,” Brawler says. “We’ll see how the first fight goes.”
My gaze narrows at him. No one’s told me about this. He gives me a small shrug, and I shake my head. At school, people have been acting like I’m some sort of movie star, but I thought that was mostly because of Johnny and being involved with the Heights Crew. Everyone who’s in the Crew gets treated with respect, and if they don’t, the offending parties get the shit kicked out of them. That’s just how things are.
“Okay,” Finn says. “I’m getting the sense the towel is a no-go, but still think about the poster. Kyla: Uppercut Princess. One badass bitch.”
I press my lips together. I don’t feel like a badass bitch today. I flick my gaz
e to Jax. Boredom has set in on his face, and it’s obvious Finn’s the dreamer in this business partnership of theirs. I suck up my pride and walk toward Jax, holding my hand out for him to shake. “Thanks for the training session. I’ll be more focused tomorrow.”
He grips his large hand in mine, giving it a squeeze that’s just the right amount of pressure. I have no doubt he’s stronger than that, but if he used his full strength to shake my hand, he’d probably break it.
Magnum moves the ropes apart, so I can duck under the top one and swing my leg over the bottom. He takes my sweat towel from me, eyeing Finn warily. It almost makes me laugh. Almost. Finn may have been serious on that one, although he’d be sorely disappointed when the thing didn’t sell.
I throw a t-shirt on and wave goodbye while heading to the gym exit. Magnum strides ahead of me, making me wait while he checks the perimeter outside. I glance over my shoulder to find Finn and Jax staring after us, and I just know that all this extra security is playing into Finn’s head about how I’m supposedly this famous fighter. I wonder if they even know about the shootout. I’m sure they’ve put two and two together by now that I’m Johnny Rocket’s girlfriend, but the part about being in danger? That’s uncertain.
“I’ve got the rear,” Brawler says, coming up behind me. My back pricks at being so close to him, but I shoot him a look over my shoulder, anyway. He’s wearing a smile that ghosts over his face. He’s got the rear, alright. I only wish we could do something about it.
“Alright, let’s head out,” Mag says. His gaze darts around the area until he opens the back door of the car for us.
I slide in, Brawler folding his larger body in after me. As soon as he’s inside, he checks the partition. Noticing it’s up, he cups my cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Just couldn’t keep my head in it,” I say, embarrassed all over again. I acted like a newbie in there, for fuck’s sake.
Brawler pulls me onto his lap in one swift move. My heart lodges in my throat. His hands sneak under my t-shirt, settling on my sweat-dampened torso. He leans forward, licking a drop that’s running down my neck. “There’s something about you all sweaty and half-naked.”
I could say the same thing for him. He’s one of the reasons I was distracted tonight. I only wish he’d taken his form-fitting tank off, so I could ogle what he has going on under there. “Maybe I should have signed my sweat towel for you.”
“You’ve already left more of an imprint on me than that.” He nudges his hips higher, and his growing desire lengthens. His head drops to my shoulder as he releases a long breath. “We need alone time together soon. More than just ten minutes in the car with a guard a couple of feet away from us.”
I hear him loud and clear. Actually, I feel him long and hard. “You don’t think I can get you off in ten minutes?” I quirk an eyebrow at him and start to slip backward over his knees, so I can drop down in front of him. Thankfully, my shin isn’t hurting anymore, or I’d never be able to do this.
He takes my chin in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “I’m willing to fall for the bad guy’s girlfriend. I’m willing to help her take someone out. I don’t need you on your knees in front of me, racing the clock. I need you in my bed, wrapped up in my sheets, being as loud as you want to be.”
My breath leaves me. The scene he described sounds divine. “You’re just making me want to suck you off even more.”
He urges me forward, pressing his lips to mine. Already, the car is slowing. Brawler intensifies the kiss for a brief moment before pulling away. Sure, it’s evident Magnum knows what’s going on between Brawler, Oscar, and me, but I don’t need to throw it in his face either. I slip off his lap and scoot over until there’s a foot between us.
“See you tomorrow,” Brawler promises.
He pushes the car door open, but Magnum lowers the divider between the front and the back. “Johnny says you can check your apartment to see if there’s anything you want to bring back.” I know his guys have already salvaged what they could, but I’m not letting this opportunity pass me up. “You’ll watch her, right?” Magnum asks, eyeing Brawler with an intensity that says there’s a double meaning in his words. Johnny probably told him to escort me up there, but he’s giving us this time. Alone. “Don’t be too long.”
I want to smile, but instead, I nod at Magnum and then get out of the car after Brawler. It feels like forever since I’ve been in front of this apartment building. Though I hadn’t stayed here long, the memories I have are fond. Of Brawler mostly.
As we walk into the building, I want to take his hand. I want to wrap my fingers around his like we would if we were any two people other than who we are. Instead, I walk side-by-side with him and then single file as we march up the stairs to our floor. As soon as we turn the corner, I pick my door out. Here, I was free, even if living a lie held me back. Freedom lay in not having to pretend for my aunt and uncle. It was not having a foot in this life and a foot in theirs. Now, I’m back to being restrained again, but in a whole different way. So, yeah, this stupid, shitty apartment means a lot to me.
The apartment was busted into, so it has a new lock on it. We have to call the super to come and open it for us. I stop as soon as he swings the door open. The new furniture is slashed to shit. The cutlery in the kitchen is all over the floor. Cupboard doors are hanging awkwardly on their hinges. A rank smell wafts from the refrigerator like it was left open for a long period of time even though the door is shut now.
“We think a member of Fonz’s crew came here and trashed it. Then, our lovely neighbors probably scoured the place as soon as they saw it was broken into.”
“It’s a shame Fonz’s Crew ruined the furniture. I’m sure someone here could have used that.”
“They took the TV though.”
I laugh. “Well, good. At least someone got something.”
Though I’m joking, a weight settles in my stomach. This was a complete and total invasion of privacy. At least Brawler was able to get the picture and the phone. I head toward the bedroom. It’s more of the same. The bed is stripped bare, like someone desperately needed a new sheet set. My bedside tables are knocked over, the drawers broken on the floor. My super-secret hideaway shelf is lying on the floor just under where I had it hung.
Brawler kneels next to it. “The hinge was open just barely, but there were sheets and clothes over it when I got here. Someone had a field day ripping everything apart. They didn’t even notice what they had.”
I run my hands through my hair and then get on the floor, peering underneath the bed and picking other trash up from the floor, searching for the gun I had in there.
“Was there something else?”
“A gun.”
Brawler heaves a sigh. “I didn’t see a gun.”
We both tear the place apart a third time, looking for the gun I had stashed, the one I’d planned on using to take out Big Daddy K. “Fuck,” I groan in frustration.
“It’s gone,” Brawler says, standing to his feet. “There’s no way of knowing who got it, but I don’t think it was Fonz’s men. It must have been the vultures afterward.”
At least there’s that. “I’ll have to get another one.” I stare at the bed. They’d told me the place was trashed, so I don’t know why I thought I’d get up here and Brawler and I could have a moment to ourselves without the real world pressing down on us.
“You’ll never get it through security at the tower.”
“Unless they give it to me,” I tell him, forming a plan in my mind. In the car, Mag’s knife lies in the bottom of my bag. Johnny is willing to give me weapons. Now I just have to convince him I need a gun for self-protection. If that doesn’t work, I’ll get Brawler to hold on to it for me.
“Is there anything in here you want?” Brawler asks. He places his hand on my neck, gently massaging me there.
“There’s really nothing here that’s mine anyway,” I tell him, realizing I’ve been living in a place that isn’t really mine, yet I have very re
al memories attached to it. “I bought everything second-hand. The clothes, the furniture, the kitchen stuff.” I glance over at him. “You have the only two things that are mine.”
He cups my face, making me face him. “How much time do you think we have?”
I don’t know, but I don’t care either. I’ll survive Johnny’s wrath, but for right now, I’m sinking back into the girl who had the apartment. The girl who was almost free. And that girl? She wants Brawler more than she can stand.
15
Brawler takes my hand, holding me tight as we exit my apartment and move down the hall. He stops at the last door and unlocks it, using a key. Thankfully, no one else is in the hallway to see us together or notice we’re entering Brawler’s apartment alone.
Brawler clicks the door shut behind us softly. “My mom should be taking her afternoon nap, depression medication induced.” He locks the door, flicking across three interior locks. I turn to find an apartment that’s laid out the same as mine, except there are bedrooms on both sides of the main room. Brawler takes me to the one on the left, pulling me inside and practically collapsing against me once we’re on the other side, flicking yet another lock just behind my hips before dropping his hand to cup my ass. I’m interested to see what his bedroom looks like, but his touch distracts me. I’m so damn easily distracted these days.
“What’s your real name?” he asks, teasing my ear with his teeth.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer. “I’ll tell you, but I want to be Kyla. Even after all of this, I still want to be Kyla to you. To everyone that matters. It’s been a long time since I’ve been that other person.”
He pulls away, running his hands through my wild hair. I’m sure it looks a mess after drying from the training session. “I promise. I just want to know everything about you.”
