Dirty Jock

by Sienna Valentine

  But I’d never even let her explain. Not really. Hadn’t I owed her that? Couldn’t I have shut the fuck up for just one second and listened? Shit, I was starting to remind myself of my stepdad—jumping to conclusions and insisting they were real, despite any and all evidence to the contrary. It was easy not to change your mind when you just flat-out refused to see it any other way. Bonus points if you wouldn’t let the other party get a word in edgewise.

  That was what had torn our family apart for years. And now, I was letting it tear me and Parker apart, too. Fuck. Was I really this big of an idiot? Hadn’t I learned anything from what Iris and Slade went through? Apparently fucking not.

  Maybe I should call her. Send a text. Something. Just not while I was drinking. Alcohol and cell phones were a bad combination, and I wasn’t about to make a bad situation worse by saying something stupid when I was halfway drunk.

  I was just about to settle up my bill when the door opened and a few familiar voices lilted my way. I looked over my shoulder at Jason “Mad Dog” Kane, Brian “Bloodbath” Mills, and Tyrell “Shaka” Washington, a damn odd bunch if I’d ever saw one. Not that they weren’t good fighters, but I’d never seen them hang out before. They’d never given me any kind of trouble, and we’d talked a few times, but we’d never kept company, either. Not really. Whatever the special occasion was, though, they seemed pretty jazzed about it.

  “Hey, it’s Killer Kellan!” Bloodbath said, immediately taking a seat on the stool next to mine. “Holy shit, man. We got a regular family reunion up in here!”

  “What’s up, Killer?” Shaka said, clapping me on the back as he sat on the opposite side of me. “Fancy seein’ you here.”

  “Yeah, I’m not really a regular,” I mumbled as Mad Dog sat down on the other side of Bloodbath. “Usually do all my drinking at home.”

  “AA might call that a problem,” Shaka said as he ordered a round. “But I bet it’s cheaper that way.”

  “Exactly,” I told him, surprised that he’d thought to get me a drink, too. I finished the last of my old beer and started in on the new one. “Well, shit. What are we celebrating?”

  Mad Dog grinned. “Just a fun night on the town. That’s all.”

  Bloodbath laughed. “Yeah, Killer. A real fun night. Even got into a brawl. Not like the usual stuff, though.”

  I raised a brow. “You were street fighting?”

  “Hell no!” Shaka said. “That shit’ll get you busted by the cops, for sure. Nah, meeting with this dude went south, ended up busting his head open. Dude deserved it, though.”

  Mad Dog snickered. I looked from him back to Shaka. “What happened?”

  “You know that guy who’s been nosin’ around the place with that blonde chick?” Bloodbath asked, leaning closer to me over the bar. I nodded, my stomach already tying itself in knots. Bloodbath lowered his voice and continued. “Well, he wanted to talk to us this afternoon about some bullshit. Said Vic was trying to rip us off. Just an excuse to shut the whole place down, y’know? Vic warned us about his ass a few days ago.”

  “Are you talking about Thom?” I asked. “The sports reporter?”

  “That’s the one,” Mad Dog said. “That fucker should’ve kept his nose out of our business. He was fuckin’ around where he didn’t belong.”

  “He was gonna ruin our fuckin’ lives, is what he was gonna do,” Shaka added, taking a long pull from his beer. “You should’ve been there, Killer. Damn. Sometimes I forget not everybody knows how to fight like we do. Dude went down like a sack of potatoes.”

  “Head split open like a fuckin’ watermelon,” Bloodbath laughed. “Don’t worry, though. We called in an anonymous tip to 911. He’ll make it. Won’t be talkin’ no more shit about Vic or the rest of the operation, though.”

  “He told you Vic was ripping us off?” I asked. That wasn’t the first time I’d heard that claim. Parker had tried to say something about it the other night, and even I had questioned Vic when he’d brought me half of what I was promised. “Did he say why? Or how?”

  “Does it matter?” Shaka replied. “Guy’s a liar. Look, we all know Vic, what kind of guy he is. He took us all in off the streets, or else saved us just before we got thrown to the wolves out there. He pays us well and he takes good goddamn care of us, which is more than I can say for a lot of other managers out there. Dude was spreadin’ rumors that would’ve gotten Vic’s ass landed in the slammer. No way any of us could let that happen after what the boss has done for us, am I right?”

  “Right,” I said, though I didn’t mean it. I had to get out of there. I put on a smile. “Thanks for the drink, guys, but I gotta head out. Got some stuff I need to take care of back at home.”

  “Still fuckin’ that blonde bitch?” Mad Dog said. It took everything in me not to reach over Bloodbath and punch Mad Dog right in his stupid face.

  “It isn’t that,” I said. “But you don’t have to worry about her. After what you guys did to her friend tonight, I think it’s safe to say the situation is under control.”

  I hated hearing those words come out of my mouth. What I wanted to do was tell them what jackasses they all were. You couldn’t just go around beating up civilians—not when you had the kind of training and power that we did. They could have killed Thom, easily. I wondered if they’d still be laughing about it then. A chill raced down my spine as I realized I didn’t know.

  “No problem,” Bloodbath said. “See you around, Killer.”

  “Yeah,” I said, throwing down some cash and heading out the door. “See you around.”

  As soon as I got outside, I bent over, hands on my knees, and just breathed for a minute. My world was spinning yet again, all because of the thousand and one fucking lies I’d been told over the past few days. Everything was spiraling out of control. First with Parker, then with Vic, and now we had fighters going out and beating up reporters—reporters who very well could’ve been Parker. What would they have done if Vic had sicced them on her, instead? Would they have beaten her to a bloody pulp?

  Raped her?

  The truth was I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything anymore. I stumbled over to the nearest bench and sat down for a minute, closing my eyes to think, to process everything I’d just learned.

  So, Parker and Thom thought Vic was skimming a little too much off the top. And they were willing to take down the entire organization to bust Vic for taking advantage of us. Not all of us were vets, but we all came from bad situations. No matter what way you sliced if, if they were right, Vic was conning us.

  Meanwhile, Vic’s handing me half of what I’m owed claiming some bullshit “fight fees” took up the largest chunk, and at the same time, he’s practically endorsing a dogpile on a reporter he damn well knows could get killed if one guy hits him just a little too hard.

  What the fuck is he thinking? Intimidation, I get, but this? This is just plain stupid. Which meant Vic had to be scared. That was what desperate people did, right? Incredibly stupid stuff? Shit, I knew that better than anyone.

  Which raised another question: why would Vic be scared, unless he was guilty? Sure, even if he wasn’t scamming us, Vic would have to shut down his operation if Thom ran with the story. But to risk basically ordering a hit on a reporter just for that? It didn’t make any damn sense. Not unless everything Thom and Parker believed was true.

  Shit. They were right. They had to be. I’d been taken for a fucking fool, and not by Parker or Thom, but by the guy I was supposed to be able to trust—the guy who’d had my back more times than I could count.

  Or had he? Had this all been one big, giant scam designed to earn him a fat paycheck every week at my expense? Did he have us all brainwashed to believe that we’d never amount to anything more than this, that he was our rock, that we needed him to survive? Parker had tried to show me another way, and Vic had been poisoning me against her since day one. Come to think of it, he’d never approved of any of my relationships outside the ring. Whenever I’d wanted to take time off to see
Iris and Slade, Vic bitched about how much money we were going to lose. We, as if we were in this shit together. As if he got hit in the fucking face every night. As if he ever had to deal with broken noses and ribs and bloody fucking knuckles.

  He might be dealing with a few of those things now, I thought darkly, fishing my cell phone from my jacket pocket. Drunk dialing be damned, I was going to get Vic on the phone, and I was going to do it now.

  He picked up after the second ring. “Hey, Killer. What’s—”

  “That could’ve been Parker,” I snarled, squeezing my phone so hard I was sure the screen would crack. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “I dunno what you mean,” Vic began again. I just shook my head and laughed.

  “Christ, Vic. You think I’m stupid, huh? You think we’re all real fucking stupid?”

  “Is this about money, Killer? Look, I told you, the fight fees—”

  “Are bullshit!” I snapped. “It’s all bullshit, Vic. It’s all been bullshit for a very long time. You’ve got yourself a nice little scam set up here, but you know who the stupid one is, Vic? It’s you. You’re the one who’s stupid enough to think manipulating a bunch of desperate, hand-to-hand combat specialists is a pretty good fucking idea. You’re the one who thinks stealing money from people whose fists might as well be registered as lethal weapons is a smart move. And I guess that was a risk you were willing to take, ‘cause you thought none of us would ever find out. But I found out, Vic. Me. Killer fucking Kellan. I want you to think about that name for a minute, Vic, because I didn’t get it just for shits and giggles. That’s what my squad mates called me back in Afghanistan. And they had a good fucking reason, too.”

  “C’mon, kid,” Vic said. His voice was thinning, growing shriller. He was nervous. I bet his fat, bald head was sweating. “Whatever you think you know, you’ve got it all wrong. You know how these reporter types are. Always trying to stir up shit, you know? And for what? Their own gain, that’s what. That’s how they make their money. It’s all based on stirrin’ shit up, even if it ain’t true.”

  I shook my head in wonder. He was really going to stick with this lie, even when he’d been found out. What a fucking weasel.

  “I’m done, Vic. Done with your lies. Done with fighting for you. I want out, and I want out now.”

  “You can’t just quit, kid,” he snorted. “You’re gonna leave me high and dry? Really? After all the shit I’ve done for you? After I dragged your ass outta that shitty bar and gave your life meaning? Purpose?”

  “Don’t overestimate how much you changed my life,” I snarled back. “I’ve had people stick their necks out for me before. Hell, I’ve had people save my fucking life. Pull me out of the line of fire. Get me the help I needed when I OD’d. People have fought tooth and claw for me before, and unlike you, they didn’t fuck me over in the process! What you saw that night wasn’t a sad, drunk kid at the end of his rope. You saw an opportunity to make yourself a lot of money at no risk. Well fuck you, Vic. You’re at fucking risk now.”

  “You want more money, Killer—is that it? You want what you think you’re owed, and you’re willin’ to throw away our friendship over it?” When I didn’t reply, Vic snorted again. I could almost hear him shaking his head. “Fine. But I need one more fight outta you, kid, or it’s no deal.”

  “Fuck you. I’m not doing shit for you anymore. You withhold my money, I’ll go to the cops.”

  “Yeah, and I’ll disappear just like I’ve done a million times before. You really haven’t thought this through, have you?”

  He was right. I hadn’t. Not all the way, anyway. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Fuck, I should have waited until I was sober.

  “One more fight, Vic,” I said, looking up at the stars. “One more fight, and then I’m done. And I’m getting what I earned, one way or another. What I’m owed. And if that just so happens to involve beating you until you stop moving, that’s just a bonus for me.”

  “Killer—”

  “Yeah. Killer. That’s me. A fucking killer. So if I were you, Vic, I’d shut the fuck up and just say ‘yes, sir’ and get ready to write me a big, fat check next time we meet, ‘cause if you don’t, I swear on my father’s grave I will show you exactly why so many people call me that.”

  Vic didn’t answer me. He just stammered a little, starting sentences and then stopping them before they ever came anything close to English. I hung up the phone. Good enough.

  But it wasn’t good enough. Not really. Because I’d made a big goddamn mistake. One I wasn’t sure I could rectify. One that, like all the others, might haunt me for the rest of my life if I didn’t do something about it right now.

  I had to try. I would never have been able to forgive myself if I didn’t.

  I pulled Parker’s number up on my screen and sent her a text. I just hoped she wouldn’t ask too many questions before I got there. I knew I had a lot of explaining to do, but I wanted to do it face to face. I wanted to give her the same courtesy she’d tried to give me.

  Tried, and failed. Dear God. Why was I such an asshole?

  I sat back on the bench, staring at my phone and waiting for a reply. I wouldn’t have blamed her if I never got one. But I was hoping against all hope that I would, because goddamn, I really needed to see Parker Jones again.

  Chapter 16

  Parker

  I’d been on edge ever since Kellan texted me asking for my address. I’d almost forgotten he’d never been to my place before. I’d only been to his, and other than that, we hadn’t seen much of each other outside of his fights. And that never seemed to go well, for me at least.

  He didn’t say why he wanted to know, and I didn’t ask. Something told me that Kellan had heard about Thom, and maybe that had something to do with it. Whatever the case, I’d let him say it to my face. Even if what he had to say was “goodbye.”

  That can’t be it, can it? I mean, he’s already said goodbye before. This has to be something new. Something different.

  At least, I hoped it would be.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard him knock on my door. It was raining outside, and I didn’t want him to have to wait in the torrential downpour, so I answered while still tying my robe closed over my chemise. I was already ready for bed after a long night at the hospital making sure Thom was going to be okay.

  Despite my haste, Kellan was soaked to the bone anyway, probably as a result of having to run from the curb to the stoop. His dark brown hair was in his eyes, and the only thing I could see in those was pain.

  “It could’ve been you, Parker,” he said, still standing on the other side of the threshold. “Instead of Thom, it could’ve been you.”

  “I know,” I said softly, opening the door wider to let Kellan in. He stepped inside and I closed the door behind him, blocking out the sound of the rain pounding the asphalt.

  Kellan peeled off his jacket, then his shirt, and hung them up on the rack near the door. I stared at the slopes of his muscles, the hard planes of his ripped body. Once I started looking, it was hard to tear my gaze away. I swallowed thickly as he turned to face me, revealing that gorgeous tattoo, those biceps that had once held me so close I was sure we’d become one person instead of two.

  “I fucked up,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened. I was pigheaded and stupid and wrong.”

  “I forgive you,” I said instantly. And I meant it. I’d had time to think it over, and the truth was I wasn’t really mad at Kellan for how he’d reacted. I was mad at myself for not being straight up with him from the start, for letting Melanie Cartwright’s advice infect what my heart was telling me. It said I needed Kellan Jarvis in my life, and now, after everything I’d been through, that was good enough for me.

  “Seriously?” Kellan said. “But I was so mean to you…”

  “Well, you weren’t exactly wrong,” I replied. “I lied to you. Or at least, I didn’t tell you the truth. You had every right to be upset.”

  “But I did
n’t have the right to say those things I said about you,” Kellan interrupted, cupping my face in his hands. “I was awful, Parker. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll never treat you like that ever again. I swear it. Now that I know the truth, I also know what I have. You’re the only damn person outside of my family who’s ever stuck their neck out for me like this. Who’s ever cared enough about me to tell me things I needed to hear, even if I didn’t want to. You give more of a shit about me than I do about myself, most days. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t,” I whispered, leaning into his touch. God, how I’d missed it. “We’re going to get through this. Together. Help me take that son of a bitch down.”

  Kellan regarded me with a lopsided grin. “Hell, Parker. That just might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  He leaned down and kissed me, my face still cradled between his rough palms. I liked the way they felt on my skin, how they ever so slightly abraded my soft flesh. I breathed in Kellan’s scent, savoring its return, memorizing everything about him that I’d taken for granted. The softness of his hair. The hardness of his muscles. The press of his body against mine. How warm he was, despite the rain. God, he was like raw fire in my hands, and I was a moth, entranced by his dancing flames. I wanted him to consume me, to burn me up from the inside out, and that was exactly what his kiss was doing.