Fighting Dirty

by Lori Foster

  Armie folded his arms and said, “All right, let’s hear it. What’s going on?”

  As if enjoying the warmth, Bray chafed his hands up and down his arms over the thick sweatshirt material. “Some people, I don’t know who but they sounded bad...well, they’re setting up your girlfriend. At least, I guess she’s your girlfriend.”

  Armie stared at him, dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”

  “There were three big dudes in the park last night. I couldn’t hear everything they said but I heard your name, so I tried to sneak closer to listen.”

  No freaking way. Armie’s chest hurt. “You—”

  “They didn’t hear me,” Bray assured him. “But they said something about getting it done once and for all.”

  The fact that Rissy was still at the bank gave Armie a small measure of calm. One thing at a time, he told himself. “Getting what done? How?”

  “I don’t know. I was scared, so I missed a lot of what was said. But it sounded like...like maybe they’re setting up a lady to help them out. She’s going to be like an interviewer or something. One of the guys...” Bray hedged, his face down.

  “One of the guys?” Armie encouraged him.

  “He said you’re a rapist.”

  Pain sliced into him and he stepped back.

  Bray said nothing. He just stared at him as the air grew charged with the impending storm.

  “It’s not true,” Armie finally told him. He didn’t care what most people thought of him. But he wanted, needed, Bray to know the truth.

  “I figured.” Bray shoved his hands deep in the pockets of the sweatshirt. “Some of my mom’s men...sometimes they make her do things.”

  Shit. Just...shit.

  “But you’re not like them.” Voice strained, Bray gestured broadly toward the direction of the rec center. “None of you are.”

  “None of us,” Armie swore. “Come on.”

  Bray tried to hold back, but with a hand on his elbow, Armie tugged him along anyway.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To check on my girlfriend.” My girlfriend. Bray’s word for Rissy, and while it sounded ridiculous, Armie enjoyed saying it all the same. “I want you with me.”

  “But—”

  Armie opened the passenger door and more or less hoisted the kid into his seat. “You came here to tell me, right? I need all the details.”

  “But—”

  The closing of the truck door cut off whatever Bray planned to say. Keeping an eye on him in case he bolted, Armie circled around the hood to the other side and got behind the wheel. “Seat belt on.”

  “This is nuts.”

  “Yeah it is. Crazy nuts.” He speed-dialed Rissy. Unfortunately it went to voice mail. “Shit.”

  “No answer?”

  “Not yet.” Armie started the truck. “I’ll keep trying while we head to her work. On the way, you can tell me everything.”

  “I already did.”

  “What’d they look like?”

  “I don’t know. It was dark and...and I was afraid to stick my head out and look.”

  Reaching over, Armie squeezed the kid’s shoulder. “Thank God for small favors. Glad to know you showed some common sense.” Armie sensed it when Bray smiled. He glanced at him while hitting Redial for Rissy. “What?”

  “Nothing. You’re just weird, that’s all.”

  “Weird, huh? Because I don’t want you to take crazy-ass risks?”

  Bray turned somber. “Maybe.”

  Still no answer. Should he head to the apartment or to the bank? He opted for the bank. If she called him back in the meantime, then he’d change plans.

  Now for Bray... “You can’t go back out on your own.”

  “I figured you’d say that.”

  Armie didn’t miss the note of relief. Maybe Bray had needed a reason to come back. “I thought you liked your foster family.”

  He turned his face to look out the window. “I do.”

  “Then why run?”

  Silence stretched out, the windows grew foggy and Armie tried Rissy again. Still no answer—and damn it, he was starting to get seriously pissed. Maybe he should give Cannon a call. Her brother might be closer...

  “They said they want to adopt me.”

  Whoa. Armie felt like he’d waded into very dangerous territory; he didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing. “They did, huh?” In the long run a good thing, but he could imagine Bray’s internal conflict.

  With his face still averted, Bray nodded. Tension built—and cracked. “Guess...” His voice went thick. “Guess my mom said okay.”

  Fucking son of a bitch. Armie gripped the wheel tight enough to snap it. Rage wouldn’t help the kid any so he tried to tamp it down, but it wasn’t easy. Damn Bray’s mother for not wanting him. Damn her for not being a better mom.

  Damn this all for feeling too familiar.

  “She said the state won’t let Russell back with me around.” Bray hunkered tighter into the corner. “Says she loves me, but I guess she loves him more.”

  Maybe, Armie thought, it was a blessing that he’d been where Bray was at now, because it gave him a little insight.

  Uncertainty hung with him, but he forged ahead anyway. “Look, I suck at this,” Armie said, going with the truth. “But here’s the thing, kid. Your life is what it is, and it’s how you react to it that’s going to matter. My mom and dad both were jellyfish.”

  “Jellyfish?”

  “Spineless,” Armie clarified. “Mom split when I was a teen, and Dad drank away the days doing a lot of the same shit Russell does. Your mom is...” So many names came to mind, but Armie passed on all of them. “She’s not strong. Not like you are.”

  Bray laughed.

  “Hey, it’s true. I see it. All the guys at the rec center have seen it. You’ve got more backbone and character than a lot of adults. It’s only words, my words, and I know they don’t matter, but if you can try to focus on the upside, that a great family loves you and wants you...” God, that sounded hollow. “And you’d still get to see your mom sometimes, right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Meaning he didn’t know if she’d want to, if the foster family was smart enough to say no, or if the state would allow it. “Listen, I’m here for you—and this time you damn well better believe it. You came here to help me, so let me help you back. Trust me a little, okay? We can take it day by day. I’ve been where you’re at now, except that crazy stuff about me being a rapist? My dad helped shore that up. He knew the truth.” Knows the truth. Armie’s eyes burned. “And still, for his own selfish reasons, he pushed the lie. I’m his son but he’s willing to bury me for a few bucks.”

  Bray stared at him.

  “It’s the truth, so believe me when I say I understand that you’re hurting, and I’m here.”

  Again, that strained silence stretched out, taut and uncomfortable, until finally Bray heaved a sigh and sat straighter. “Okay.”

  Armie released a cautious breath. “Okay?”

  Bray nodded. “Okay.”

  A weight lifted off Armie’s chest. His heart pumped easier. “Okay.” There were a dozen things to do yet tonight. Hopefully Bray’s foster family would forgive the delay, because first... “Let’s go find my girlfriend.”

  * * *

  DISGUSTED, MERISSA LOOKED at her dead cell. Figures. The perfect way to finish off this very imperfect day.

  But then she smiled as she stuck the phone back in her purse and headed for her car. She was going home to Armie, so truthfully, it was pretty darned awesome.

  “Merissa Colter?”

  Looking back, she spotted the stylish woman holding a recorder and microphone. Had the woman been waiting for her? Merissa quickly scanned the area. Streetlamps countered the darkness of early evening. Off in the distance, lightning flickered against stormy skies.

  Plenty of people passed around them, some driving on the street, others waiting for the bus, a few hurriedly walking by.


  Uncertain, Merissa turned to face her. “Yes?”

  With a coy smile, the woman said, “Rumor has it you’re hooked up with Armie Jacobson, the SBC’s newest rising star. If that’s true, would you mind answering just a few quick questions? I promise I won’t keep you.”

  Suspicions clamored. “Who are you with?”

  The woman moved closer. “I wish I could say ESPN, but hey, we locals need love, too, right?” She held out credentials that claimed she wrote for the sports section of a community paper. “I’ll keep it short and to the point, okay? Just five minutes, tops.”

  After the past few hectic hours, a headache pecked at Merissa’s brain and her neck and shoulders ached. “It’s going to storm.”

  “If it starts, we’ll call it quits. But you know Mr. Jacobson has a lot of fans in the area. They’d love to hear about him.”

  Of course he did. Who could possibly meet Armie and not love him? “Wouldn’t it be better to talk directly to him?” On top of the glitch at work, a disgruntled client that had to be appeased and a surprise meeting with her supervisor, Steve had called her again. He’d claimed to have heard rumors about Armie and wanted her to let him “protect” her. What a joke.

  It was bizarre, but Steve was more persistent now than he’d been when they were together.

  “Could you arrange that?” the reporter asked with energy. “If so, I’d love it!” Her expression turned pleading. “But since you’re here now, can I impose for just a few questions? It would really mean a lot to me and to Quick’s fans.”

  Given that her brother was a hometown hero, Merissa had been cornered before with questions about him. She didn’t mind so much, except that she was badly off-kilter and really just wanted to collapse.

  “All right. Sure. But it does need to be short.” Merissa tried putting on her happy face, after all, this was Armie’s career. Readjusting her purse on her shoulder, she said, “Ready when you are.”

  “Perfect.” The reporter turned on a small recorder, holding it out so that it almost bumped Merissa’s chin. “Armie Jacobson is from the area, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes. He and my brother, Cannon Colter, have been friends for a very long time.”

  “Going all the way back to high school.”

  “That’s right,” Merissa confirmed.

  “I suppose that means you, too, have known him a long time. Does that make your relationship awkward?”

  Such an odd question. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with—”

  “And now Armie helps out at the gym,” the interviewer rushed to ask. “I understand that he especially enjoys working with the children?”

  Okay, so that was more on track. Merissa nodded. “He’s terrific with everyone, but yes, kids love Armie.”

  “So do the ladies.”

  Again, Merissa faltered. She was starting to have a bad feeling about this. “That’s not much of a secret.”

  “His reputation doesn’t bother you?”

  Merissa narrowed her eyes. “I think we’re all done.”

  “Interesting.” The woman held her gaze. “Before he became an SBC fighter, Armie was accused of rape. It was never resolved, was it?”

  Shoving the recorder away from her face, Merissa stepped back. “Who are you?”

  The lady laughed. Not an amused laugh, but more like a “gotcha” laugh, as if a plan had just come together.

  With the vague sense of a threat closing in, Merissa glanced around and realized the area now felt empty. So many things had happened lately that she didn’t question her own instincts. Instead, after impaling the woman with a killing glare, she strode toward her car. The woman’s hilarity followed her, but Merissa didn’t give her the satisfaction of looking back.

  She reached her car just as a man and woman pulled up to the curb. The woman sat in her car with two kids while the man jogged to the ATM. They looked to be in their early twenties and as nonthreatening as people could be. Buoyed by their presence, Merissa unlocked her car, climbed in and hit the lock button once more.

  When she looked up, the reporter hadn’t moved but she did wave to two men in a truck. As Merissa pulled away, she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that the truck followed.

  Her phone was dead. What should she do?

  Daring to fumble around as she drove, Merissa found her charger and plugged in the phone.

  The truck stayed right behind her.

  On the off chance they didn’t already know where he lived, there was no way Merissa wanted to lead them to Armie’s apartment.

  Instead, constantly glancing at the rearview mirror, she took a turn and headed to her brother’s home. Cannon and Yvette lived closer than Denver and Cherry, and with any luck, Cannon would already be home. If these were men hoping to cause trouble for Armie, Cannon would put an end to it real fast.

  But even if Cannon wasn’t home, Yvette would be able to reach him. And given her awful past, Yvette lived in a very secure house with locks on every window and door.

  The beep of her phone made Merissa jump. She had missed calls—but at least the cell was now charged enough that she might be able to use it. She was about to do exactly that when the skies opened up and a deluge of rain pounded her small car.

  Great. Just freaking great!

  Holding tight to the wheel, willing herself to pay attention to her driving and to ignore everything else, she did a hands-free call to Yvette.

  “Hey, Rissy.”

  “Are you home?”

  “Yes. Did you want to come by?”

  “I do, see, people are following me. I don’t want to explain it all now, but I’m almost to your house. Can you please unlock your front door and be ready for me to barrel through?”

  “Ohmigod.” There was a rustle of sound and Yvette said, “I think I see you.”

  “Yeah, I just turned onto your street.” Yvette likely peeked through her front window. “Is that other car still behind me?”

  “I don’t see anyone else, but with this rain it’s hard to tell. Come straight in when you get here. I’m going to call Cannon.”

  “Thanks.” As soon as Merissa pulled up to the curb in front of her brother’s home, she saw the curtain on the front window drop. The door opened and Yvette stood there, scanning the area and with her cell phone to her ear.

  Merissa glanced around but no longer saw the truck. So why did she still feel threatened?

  She unplugged her phone, snatched up her purse and ran through the downpour. She was barely in the door when Yvette slammed it and turned several locks.

  “You’re soaked.” Yvette disappeared down the hall, returning a second later with a big towel. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Merissa stepped out of her shoes as she dried her face and quickly peeked out the window. Nothing.

  Was she overreacting again?

  And why did these things keep happening to her?

  Emotion welled up, fear and rage and it overwhelmed her.

  “What happened?” Yvette led her to the couch. “Do you want anything?”

  “You called Cannon?”

  “He’s on his way. He said he’d get hold of Armie.”

  Merissa put her head in her hands. “I feel like an idiot.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s no one there.”

  “Now,” Yvette said. “But I know you, Merissa. If you say you were being followed, you were. So why don’t you just tell me what happened?”

  Maybe talking would help to clarify it. “I think I was set up. This lady—she said she was an interviewer but then she asked these awful questions about Armie and when I turned to leave, she laughed. Like...she was taunting me. Or maybe that she was pleased that she’d upset me because that’s what she’d meant to do.”

  “An interviewer?” Yvette asked.

  “A fake interviewer.” As briefly as possible, Merissa explained. She wasn’t sure if Cannon had told Yvette about the rape accusations, so she didn’t dare mention them. W
hat to do? Armie would be so upset. She folded her arms around herself and damn it, she knew she was going to cry.

  Alarmed, Yvette touched her arm. “You’re shaking.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” The first tear tracked down her cheek and she angrily slapped it away.

  “It’s okay.” Yvette sat beside her, one hand still on her shoulder. “I’ve never seen you cry.”

  Humiliated, Merissa used the towel to scrub over her face, removing what little makeup she had left.

  “Cannon will be here soon,” Yvette said soothingly, as if she didn’t know what else to say.

  Merissa tried a breath that thankfully didn’t strangle in her throat. “I never cry.”

  “Never?” Yvette teased, her hand now stroking Merissa’s back. “You’re better than me, then. Shoot, every month around my period I got so weepy, it drove me nuts. And honestly, at the beginning of my pregnancy, it was even worse.”

  Merissa went still. Everything seemed to slow down. Her tears, her thoughts, even her fear.

  Her overblown fear.

  Her overblown emotions.

  She turned to stare at Yvette.

  Yvette stared back. “What?”

  Covering her mouth with a shaking hand, Merissa whispered, “Oh no.”

  “Rissy.” Yvette took both her hands. “You’re scaring me.”

  Biting her lip, Merissa tried to do some quick math. She stared at Yvette again. “Oh no.”

  Suddenly Yvette’s eyes widened. “Do you think...?”

  “I haven’t had a period.” How the heck had she missed that? Merissa swallowed hard and said again, “Oh no.”

  “So you’re overdue?”

  Bobbing her head, Merissa repeated, “Overdue. By at least three weeks.”

  “Wow.” Yvette did some quick thinking. “Okay, let’s don’t jump to conclusions here. You’ve had a lot going on, right? That could mess up anyone. Are you usually regular?”

  “Like clockwork.”

  “Your birth control doesn’t inhibit your monthly—”

  “No.” Merissa pulled in a shuddering breath. She couldn’t seem to get her brain wrapped around it. When it occurred to her, she blurted, “My boobs hurt!”

  Yvette choked on a laugh.