Heat

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  “Let her.” Colleen shrugged. “If he’s stupid enough to come here, he will be taken care of.”

  “What do you mean ‘taken care of’?”

  “I mean he’ll be arrested for trespassing at the very least. I hope he tries to get physical with one of my men. I didn’t hire them for just their pretty faces. Speaking of which, Max is off limits.” Colleen eyed her sister. “I know he’s hotter than lava, but you can’t sleep with him.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Actually, it is my business. He can’t show favoritism. It’ll cause a lot of problems and draw attention to you. Look, I’m glad you’re unclenching a bit. You deserve to let your hair down. There are plenty of guys in the Hot Spot who are guests just like you. Choose one of them. Heck, try out some of the specialty rooms. But keep your hands off Max. It could cost him his job if someone complains. You think you’re the only one that wants to do him? His entire class wants to play hide the sausage with him.”

  Mallory crinkled her nose. “That’s vulgar.”

  “Whatever, Polly Prissy Pants.” Colleen made a “yadda yadda” motion with her hand.

  “What about Sam from your secret Batcave room?”

  “Sure, he’s all yours. I can arrange a meeting. Tonight after the fight?”

  “No!” Mallory shouted, feeling a rush of annoyance. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, doesn’t Sam work for you? Yet last night he was banging Angie in the thousand-bucks-an-hour suite.”

  “He’s not currently on my payroll. He’s also a member. Most of my instructors are. Angie Wilkes is not one of his students. Although I don’t think that would stop her. And Sam would hump a hole in the wall.”

  “But you were about to set us up.” Mallory had the urge to pull on Colleen’s hair, just to wipe that snide cool smirk off her face.

  “I set up a lot of my friends.”

  “I can find my own hookup, thanks.”

  “Your loss. Sam could also make the hole in the wall scream his name.” Colleen whirled her pen in the air.

  “I don’t want Sam.”

  “Just as long as you don’t have your heart—or anything else—set on Max.”

  “I like Max. He’s special,” Mallory wheedled, but Colleen wasn’t buying it.

  “He’s off limits. He’s on my payroll. It could be construed as prostitution.”

  “Whatever,” Mallory said, feeling like she was fourteen again.

  Colleen shrugged and then took pity on her. “So, do you want to watch our boy fight tonight? You can join me in the box seats.”

  “Not really. I can’t keep the doctor part of me from cringing.”

  “The fights are very safe. The referee is trained to stop them before anyone gets seriously hurt. Dr. Parks will be there, so you can put the doctor part in a bag.”

  “It’s not that easy.” Mallory crossed her arms.

  “Besides, you aren’t betting against Max, are you?”

  “I’m not betting, period. Isn’t that illegal?”

  “The casinos are laying odds. You could phone in a bet.” Colleen nudged the phone toward her. “They hate that I stole this fight from them. They think I’m going to steal their business—which, of course, I am.”

  “I don’t have the money to lose.”

  Colleen sighed. “You need to take more risks.”

  “Thanks, but my life is risky enough without adding knee breakers to it when I can’t pay the vig.”

  “Do you even know what that means?”

  “No, I heard it in a Leonard Elmore movie and I thought it sounded cool.”

  “Get out of my office.” Colleen pointed with a pencil.

  A terrible thought hit Mallory and she took one last sip of the whiskey before she set it aside. “Do you want Max for yourself?” Max had said Colleen propositioned him. She’d said he was hot. She touched him often. This wasn’t good.

  “What? No.” Colleen shook her head. “I don’t have time for a lover right now.”

  “Are you still hung up on Chase?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “You’re not still grieving for Alfie, are you?”

  “It’s been two years,” Colleen said with a small smile. “I’ll always miss him. But no, I’ve accepted he’s gone and I’m glad he isn’t in pain anymore. He would have liked this place, you know.”

  “Entirely too much information.” Mallory raised her hands, trying to banish the idea of sweet, old Alfie in the Hot Spot. But as disturbing as that thought was, it didn’t shake the hollow pit in her stomach at the idea that Colleen was warning her off Max because she wanted him for herself. “But if you did have the time, would you pick Max?”

  “Not if you wanted him.”

  “I don’t need your charity.” Mallory stuck her tongue out at Colleen.

  That wasn’t a no.

  “Get lost, brat.”

  Mallory looked at her sister to see if she could pick up any clues, but Colleen was as unreadable as ever. The fact of the matter was, Colleen could have any man she wanted, so there was no point in worrying about it. She’d have to believe her and try to get over the stupid insecurities David had left her with.

  Mallory pinned the brooch on her shirt. “Thanks. Again. Look, if you need me to help out the medical staff, let me know.”

  “I’ve got it covered. Try and enjoy yourself.” Colleen shooed her out of her office.

  Mallory forced a smile. She felt a little ungrateful, but it was still a disappointment to think about giving up on Max. They’d really connected, but the last thing she wanted to do was get him fired. And she was too enthralled by him to think of being with anyone else. Maybe they could be just friends. Surely, no one would get bent out of shape if they continued to hug. She really liked his hugs. Story of her life. No luck with men. Even when she found a good one, she couldn’t keep him.

  She walked out of Colleen’s office to see Nefertiti and Istvahn squared off, facing each other. Istvahn stepped away and gave Mallory a curt nod. Nefertiti glared at his retreating back.

  “Did I miss something?” Mallory asked.

  Nefertiti shook her head. “It’s nothing. Here.” She handed her another room key and gave her directions to the private area. “I’ll have the housekeeping staff transfer your things to your new room.”

  If the fashion-side rooms came with free porn and a new vibrator, Mallory was a little frightened of what the members-only rooms had. Since the only things she’d consumed all day were a cookie, a banana, and a cup of coffee, she stopped inside the Mexican restaurant before heading to her room. She ate too many nachos but stayed clear of the margaritas. All the salt in those crunchy triangles of goodness was going to make her puffy and bloated, but she didn’t give a shit. After staring at all the other couples laughing and having a good time, Mallory wished for her book. Declining the flan with what she thought was a heroic effort, she charged the bill to her room and decided she was going to have to get Colleen a really nice Christmas present to make up for all of this. But what did you get the woman who had everything? An image of Max without his shirt flitted across her mind and she wished she’d ordered dessert.

  The key fob opened up all the locked doors Mallory encountered and she wandered around for a bit, getting acclimated to the new surroundings. The fashion side was very artsy-fartsy, with shades of pastels. The members-only side, once you got past the boring gray of the hallways that separated the two sides of the resort, was grittier. The darker, bold colors on the walls and the artwork leaned more toward soft-core than Picasso. She felt naughty, and she had to admit it was a good feeling.

  The first thing she noticed was that her stuff was there and someone had been nice enough to hang up her clothes and bring Winky, the one-eyed wonder vibrator. The next was that her room had a waterbed, which was awesome. Mallory rolled around on it until she realized she could firm up the settings. For the moment, she just wallowed in the waves and looked up at the mirrored ceiling. It wasn’t until she
caught sight of the animal-print throw pillows that she had a suspicion. She got up from the bed and looked into the bathroom. It was large enough for a two-Jacuzzi tub. And yes, it was heart-shaped. Mallory stepped out of her room and knocked on the door across the hall.

  A woman dressed in a leather halter and pants opened up right away. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi, I’m Mallory. I’ve got to ask you a weird question.”

  “Jeanne.” The woman shook her hand. “This ought to be good.”

  “Would you take a peek into my room and see if yours is decorated like that?”

  “If you want to fool around, just ask.”

  Mallory grinned. “No, seriously. You have to see this.”

  “All right, we can play it your way.”

  But when Jeanne’s jaw dropped and she started laughing until she was coughing, Mallory sighed. “Son of a bitch.”

  “It looks like a seventies porn set in here. Hell no, my room doesn’t look like this. Come here.” Jeanne pulled her back into the room across the hall.

  Jeanne’s room had a leather couch. That was the only difference from the room Mallory had left in the vanilla wing.

  “So,” Jeanne said, wiping her eyes. “That’s a hot room. You have any plans for it?”

  “I did,” Mallory said, trying to keep the dejection out of her voice.

  “There are plenty of fish in the sea,” Jeanne said. “Especially here. You want a drink?”

  “Nah, thanks. I just wanted to check out the rooms.”

  “Well, if you’re interested in hitting the clubs tonight, let me know.”

  “Thanks, maybe I will. It’ll beat moping in my room.”

  “I don’t think you can mope in a room like that. Are you going to the fights?”

  “Not interested,” Mallory said. “How about you?”

  “My ex will be there. I don’t want to see her.”

  “I can relate.” Mallory turned to go.

  “Thanks for the laugh,” Jeanne said as she shut the door.

  “Honestly,” Mallory said, shaking her head as she closed the door to her room. Then, she took a flying leap onto the waterbed and giggled when it kicked her up and around. Leave it to Colleen to put her in the most over-the-top, corny room she could imagine. After both she and the bed settled down, she fumbled for her purse because she was too lazy to get out of the pitching mattress. She wound up dumping the contents all over her. She found her book, but her old cell phone also popped out. It was off. She ignored it, dusting off the paper clip, pennies, and gum wrappers from her chest.

  She turned a few pages before she realized she was reading the book upside down. Tossing it aside, she picked up her phone and turned it on. Twenty-seven text messages and ten voice mails. It was just going to be David spewing abuse. But she didn’t shut it off. When it rang, she dropped it and then stared at it as if it were a buzzing snake.

  Mallory knew it was David. Could he track her by the phone, or was that all a myth? Had Chrissie recognized her after all and called him? Was he on his way here now?

  She didn’t want to be alone. Mallory ran out of the room, leaving the phone still ringing on the bed. In the elevator, she stared at her reflection in the metal doors. She looked shaky and wild. Leaning her head on the elevator wall, she tried to get her breathing under control. She shouldn’t be this rattled by a ringing phone. Should she have picked it up? What if he was hurt?

  She was standing in the lobby like a ninny, trying to make up her mind whether to look for Colleen or go back up and answer the damn phone, when an ambulance pulled up front. The EMTs ran in, rolling a stretcher.

  “This way,” Nefertiti said.

  Mallory jumped. Once again the Egyptian queen had snuck up on her. “What’s going on?”

  “There have been some injuries at the event.”

  Mallory followed the crew, glad she was wearing her comfortable shoes instead of the ridiculous heels that Nefertiti toddled on. “I’m a doctor,” she told the EMTs.

  She followed Nefertiti as they ran down the hallways and doorways, Nefertiti’s badge opening up passageways in walls like they were in one of the ancient pyramids.

  “It’s a bloodbath,” she said. “We already took two of the fighters out in the ambulance on the scene. The referees aren’t stopping the fights soon enough. The crowd is bloodthirsty and they’re playing to the crowds.”

  “Oh no. What happened?”

  “One fighter got his leg broken. He was about to be transported to the hospital when another fighter got knocked out and never regained consciousness.”

  “He died?”

  Nefertiti shook her head. “He was still breathing, but it wasn’t a good scene. They were throwing around words like ‘possible skull fracture.’ ”

  “Shit,” Mallory breathed. “Was one of them Max?” Her heart thundered and she thought she was going to throw up.

  “That’s what this one’s for.” Nefertiti patted the stretcher.

  Chapter Eleven

  Please be breathing. Please be conscious.

  Mallory pushed the panic into the back of her mind. She’d be no help to Max if she lost her shit. He was the priority right now. Max needed her. They burst into the locker room and Mallory almost wept from relief when she saw him sitting up on a table. What she could see of his face under a large bag of ice was a mess of cuts and bruises. Mallory pushed her rage deep down and put on her doctor face.

  “I don’t need a stretcher,” Max mumbled. She was sure he wasn’t seeing straight.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said as the EMTs did their thing, taking his blood pressure and checking his pupils.

  “Mallory?” Max said.

  “It’s okay. You’re going to be all right.”

  “He got his bell rung, that’s all,” an older man said. He looked like a brick wall with cauliflower ears and a squashed nose.

  “Where’s Dr. Parks?” Nefertiti said.

  “He’s with another fighter, Kennedy. They think it’s just a sprain.”

  “And you are?” Mallory said.

  “Trent Donovan. I’m the fight promoter.”

  “I’m Dr. Bryant. I’m a doctor.”

  “Bryant? Are you related to the Queen Bitch?”

  Nefertiti gasped. “You are one step away from getting thrown out of here. This is not the type of fight we wanted.”

  “You wanted butts in the seats. You wanted publicity. Well, you got it, sister,” he sneered.

  “He caught me with a lucky punch,” Max said.

  “I’d say he caught you with a few. I’d feel better if we got you to the hospital for a CT scan.” Mallory touched his knee and when he placed his hand on top of hers, she let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

  “He don’t need a CT scan,” Trent said, stepping in front of her.

  Nefertiti spoke into her headset. “Istvahn, I need you.”

  “You want publicity?” Mallory said. “I’ll shut this whole damn show down. I’ll go out there right now and wave a white towel and stop this nonsense.”

  “Over my dead body, sweetheart.”

  Mallory narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Trent, back off.” Max started to get off the table but was restrained by the EMTs.

  “Not so fast, buddy,” one of them said. “You know your name?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Well?”

  “I’m Max. Max … S-spencer.”

  Mallory frowned. The slight pause and the slurring of his last name wasn’t good.

  “Where are you?” the EMT asked.

  “Vegas. No, I’m kidding. I’m at Couture. In Connecticut.” Max tried on a smile that seemed to make him dizzy. He held on to the table and closed his eyes.

  “How do you feel?” She touched his knee.

  “I’m tired. My head hurts. My face is frozen.”

  “Do the lights bother you?” Mallory said.

  “Yes,” he nodded.

  “Are you dizzy?
”

  “I’m not now, but when I tried to stand up I was.”

  “Did you throw up?” she said.

  “No.”

  “He’s talking pretty well,” the EMT said. “Good comprehension.” He attached a butterfly bandage on the bad cut on Max’s cheek.

  “I think that’s going to need stitches,” she said.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You got lucky,” the other EMT said. “The other fighter? Torres? We heard he went right into surgery for the swelling. Dispatch told us to watch out for that.”

  “I’m good,” Max said. “I saw the other two fights. I’m not that bad.”

  “See?” Trent said. “He ain’t that bad.”

  Three goons in suits burst into the locker room, flashbulbs going off behind them. Mallory recognized the doorman, Istvahn, in the middle of the group.

  “Are you all right, Tee?” Istvahn asked in a quiet voice that sent shivers up Mallory’s spine.

  “Get him out of here,” Nefertiti said, pointing to Trent.

  “You and what army,” Trent sneered.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Istvahn said, stepping around Mallory. “Please follow me, sir.”

  Mallory moved closer to Max. She’d seen Road House. She knew what happened when the big guy was nice.

  Trent aimed a punch at Istvahn’s gut. Without changing expression, Istvahn grabbed Trent’s wrist and twisted his arm up behind his back. Without letting go, he used his other hand to grab Trent by his large ear. Istvahn propelled him out the door, yanking upward when Trent tried to struggle. This time when the doors opened, Istvahn plowed right into the photographers.

  “That’s some doorman,” Mallory breathed when Nefertiti and the other two goons followed Istvahn out.

  “Istvahn? He’s the head of security,” Max said.

  “Yeah, you told me. I should have thanked him for getting my stuff,” Mallory said.

  “You should really come with us and get checked out,” the EMT said, finishing up on Max’s face.

  Max shook his head and then winced. “I’m fine.”

  “Get on the damn stretcher,” Mallory said.

  “No.”

  “Sorry, Doc—if he doesn’t want to go we can’t force him.”

  “I can force him.” She glared at Max.