Shadowboxer

by Cari Quinn

What had happened to me?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tray

  Work sucked.

  I probably wasn’t the first person to think of quitting within a few hours of starting a new job, but then again, I also enjoyed getting pounded on a regular basis. So I didn’t have the most typical reactions.

  In theory, it wasn’t a bad job. There was some unloading of shipments, some tabulating of inventory. Some dispensing of alcohol. Some listening to drunk fuckers try to hit on my fellow bartenders and laughing as they struck out.

  Some watching Mia work with my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and my dick as hard as a brick in my pants. Yet again.

  In that, my responses were painfully normal.

  From the way she was acting toward me, no one would’ve ever guessed we’d had sex the night before. Very good sex. Or that I’d made her come multiple times in my damn tub. I was no expert, but I was pretty sure Mia didn’t stack up multiples on a weekly basis, not from the way she’d reacted. She’d come like a person who hadn’t in a very long time. Explosively.

  I’d never forget her wild spasms around my fingers, her hot slickness coating them. Even now I had to curl my hand in a fist to try to dispel the memories.

  Today she was ignoring me like we were strangers, despite the faint imprint of my phone number still visible on her inner arm. Her reddened inner arm. I bet she’d scrubbed herself raw trying to get it off.

  Even that didn’t improve my mood. I was too pissed off.

  She didn’t want a boyfriend. I got that. I’d never been one to search desperately for love myself, so I could handle her hands off routine. As long as we weren’t really hands off. As long as she didn’t think she was going to walk out of there without spending the night with me when I knew she was fighting some big ass brawler chick tomorrow.

  But she tried. Oh, she fucking tried.

  I got off shift a couple hours before she did. Knowing what she’d try to pull, I wisely waited around the corner from Vinnie’s, certain she’d bypass the front door in hopes of avoiding me. I just hadn’t counted on her taking the back exit instead of the side. The only reason I saw her at all was because she caught a light at the corner and she had her bright green, practically glow-in-the-dark backpack thrown over her shoulder.

  I’d never been ditched before. I couldn’t say I enjoyed the feeling.

  Jogging up the block, I hung back until just before the light changed. She’d begun to walk when I grabbed her elbow. “Well, hello. Nice to see you again. Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t even brace. Nope, her first reaction was a long-suffering sigh. “My sister is at my place, Fox. You can’t come over.”

  “Because at what, seventeen, eighteen years old she doesn’t know what sex is, right? That’s what you want me to believe?”

  “It’s not appropriate for her to see a guy hanging around. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

  I waited until we’d cleared the crosswalk before I snatched hold of her hip and pressed my mouth to the cool line of her jaw. “Like I fucked you against the alley wall last night? That when you were in my tub, you came over and over again while my fingers pumped deep inside of you?”

  When she made a noise in her throat, I nipped her neck. I hoped she was aching half as much as I was.

  “Is that what you mean?” I pressed.

  “About that.” She picked up her pace, walking so fast that her icy breath chugged out like a warning signal.

  I didn’t need one. I already knew I wouldn’t like what she had to say. “Yeah?”

  “We won’t be doing that again.”

  My shoulders hunched and I gathered my fingers into loose fists more from habit than true anger. She was just scared. Just nervous about what was happening between us. I got that, I hadn’t expected this either. But I wasn’t running away, and I wasn’t acting like a jerk.

  Yet. I reserved the right to start at any time.

  She had issues, ones deeper and darker than I could probably even guess. She’d almost had a breakdown at her sister’s arrival last night, so she obviously she had stuff going on. I wasn’t trying to add additional problems to her life.

  Strike that. Apparently I was, since my wanting to spend time with her was a personal affront. Yeah, well, I had a succinct response to that.

  “You know what, Mia? Fuck you.” I roared it at the sky. “Just fuck you.”

  She didn’t even slow down in her hurried flight up the street. She was walking so fast her thin sneakers barely touched the cold sidewalk. I bet her toes had frozen together.

  I didn’t care. Not even a little.

  Rather than chase after her, I stopped and turned around. We’d already run this scene before. I wasn’t easily deterred, but I also wasn’t so desperate that I’d let her continue to mop up the ring with my face.

  Fine. If she really didn’t give a shit about me, I’d go home and beat off or beat myself into unconsciousness with my weight bag. I’d blare Oblivion’s new CD and zone out. Maybe I’d drink myself to sleep. One way or another, I would get myself to a place where I didn’t care about Mia or Ame or whoever the hell she was.

  Then she called my name.

  “Tray.”

  And like a goddamn sucker—or a guy with a brick in his pants—I turned around.

  We stared at each other across the distance of a few feet. Flyaway strands of her hair clung in icy chunks to her cheeks. She kept rubbing her bare fingers together, probably to generate warmth. Naturally she hadn’t zipped up my coat. But she was still wearing it.

  She was still all wrapped up in me, whether she wanted to be or not.

  I tucked my chapped hands in the pockets of my hoodie and waited. If she didn’t say something damn impressive, I was out of there. Even masochists had limits.

  “You really think I can invite you over when my sister’s there?”

  That was not what I meant by impressive.

  I started walking back toward Vinnie’s. She could sing my name to the tune of the “Star Spangled Banner” and I wasn’t turning toward her again.

  So what did she do?

  She called me. Fucking called me. With the number I’d given her.

  I could’ve ignored it. If I had, my sanity probably would’ve had a better chance at remaining intact. But where was the fun in that?

  Without saying hello, I lifted my phone to my ear. And waited.

  “Tray, don’t be stubborn.”

  “You’re wasting my minutes.”

  She snorted, obviously not the least bit concerned about appearing ladylike. Hell if I didn’t admire her for that. I admired her for too much, including not giving in to me. It probably made me seem like a world-class dickhead—I probably was one—but I couldn’t remember a woman ever turning me down before. Even in jest.

  “Sure thing, richie rich. Don’t want to screw up your budget plan.”

  “No, you’d rather screw with my head. You want me. You don’t want me. You know what? Maybe you’re not worth the trouble.”

  I knew it was the wrong thing to say the instant the words were out. But I couldn’t take them back.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. Then the phone clicked off.

  I rubbed my eyes and cursed. The wound I’d just given her wouldn’t leave a mark, but it would scar just the same.

  Goddammit.

  Without thinking twice, I charged after her. Panic clogged my throat when she didn’t appear in the swarm of people still roaming the block even at this late hour, but then I caught sight of her coat.

  My coat. Mine.

  Goddammit.

  I wanted her to be mine, and that was the whole problem. Me, the guy who’d never cared about any of that stuff before, who just waited for chicks to fall into my lap before I pushed them back out again, now wanted the one thing I couldn’t have.

  Shutting my eyes for a second, I blocked it all out. None of that was important at the moment. I had to convince her I hadn’t meant what I’d
said. She was worth the trouble.

  She was worth the world.

  I opened my eyes again and retraced her steps, finally catching up with her when she was almost to her building. She moved fast, and too many people still wandered around even at this late hour. Gotta love New York.

  She turned to go up her walk when she stopped, momentarily going still. Then she picked up her pace, obviously hoping to shake me off.

  And like the puppy—or another double consonant word—I’d become, I followed her into her building.

  Outside her door, she bowed her head, her body drooping from obvious exhaustion. The last of my anger drained away as if it had never existed.

  Succumbing to instinct, I cupped her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. She’d braided her hair again and tossed the tail over one shoulder. I left my lips against that patch of bare skin above her jacket collar while I searched for the words to make this right.

  “I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry.” I shut my eyes. “You’re worth everything. Let me show you, Mia.” My voice was deep and husky, the plea it held clear. I couldn’t even pretend not to care anymore.

  She had me against the mat, both shoulders down. Her knee to my throat.

  “You know we shouldn’t do this.” Her voice sagged, breaking at the end.

  “I know.”

  She blew out a long breath. “Then why are you here?”

  My fingers tightened around her shoulders. For as long as I could hold on, I would. “Because I can’t stay away.”

  Again she made that soft hum in her throat, the one that made me want to burrow into her and never leave. Then she fitted her key into the lock and pushed open the door to madness.

  Music played from the old-fashioned boom box on the coffee table, though maybe music was an optimistic label for the sounds erupting from the speakers. Carly and Kizzy sat on either side of the table, about two inches from the noise, a circle of playing cards fanned out between them.

  “Hit me, bitch.” Kizzy grabbed her beer.

  Carly dealt cards with a flick of her wrist. Then she lifted a matching beer to her lips, only to have it plucked out of her hand by Mia before it made contact with her mouth.

  “Hey,” she protested as Mia marched it over to the sink. “That’s almost full.”

  “Not anymore it’s not.” Mia poured the beer down the drain. “You are not permitted to drink until you turn twenty-one. Do you understand me, Carly Ann?”

  Carly rolled her eyes and took a quick drink off Kizzy’s beer while Mia’s back was turned. “Yes, Mom.”

  Mia stiffened before her head dropped between her shoulders again. That was twice in five minutes I’d seen her in that pose and I didn’t like it. She wasn’t the type to let fatigue slow her down. And she was fighting someone twice her size tomorrow?

  Jesus.

  I’d taken a step toward her when she whirled around and threw back her shoulders. She walked over and turned off the music, then propped a hand on her hip.

  “I’m not your mother, but you will respect me while you’re under my roof. If you can’t do that, then maybe we need to rethink the plan for our living arrangements.”

  Carly frowned and lowered her gaze. “I respect you. I’m sorry.”

  “Damn.” Kizzy shook her head. “Can you be my mommy too? I wasn’t even that well-behaved in kindergarten.”

  Mia cut Kizzy a sharp look, then did a doubletake. Guess she hadn’t noticed her before, though how anyone could miss that room-dominating, wild-haired blonde I’d never know. Mia’s gaze shot to me and back again as she lifted to her thumb to her mouth. Must be gnawing on her nail again. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hanging with your sis. She’s a fun chick.” Kizzy leaned forward to clink bottles then paused with hers in the air. “Jeez, Car, get a chocolate milk or something so we can toast proper.”

  Carly scrambled to her feet as Kizzy dug a hair tie out of her suitcase-sized purse. She got approximately half her hair in the ponytail then gave up and started drinking again.

  I sprawled in the single armchair, wincing a little at the spring jabbing into my ass. Thankfully Mia didn’t notice. She was too busy directing all her attention at Kizzy.

  “Yeah, okay, but how did you know Carly was staying with me?”

  So Carly wasn’t just visiting? Combined with her statement about living arrangements a minute ago, it seemed a little more permanent.

  “I didn’t, wiseass, since you didn’t see fit to tell me at the training session you weren’t at this morning.” Kizzy punched Mia hard in the thigh.

  I opened my mouth to intercede, but Mia barely even flinched. My girl was no freaking joke.

  “Not like you, boss,” Kizzy continued. “Not at all.”

  “I overslept,” Mia mumbled, still biting her nail.

  “Oh, never mind then. No need to worry about getting your ass filleted by Cross, since you needed a couple more hours of beauty rest.” Kizzy glanced at me and lifted her chin. Her gunmetal gray eyes looked ready to fire bullets straight at my head. “This your strategy, Fox? Distracting her until she’s so off her game you can use her face to mop up her blood? You impress me, tough guy.”

  She was just trying to bait me, but I couldn’t hold back my response. “If it were up to me, she wouldn’t be fighting at all.” I leaned forward and locked my hands between my knees. “But no one cares about my opinion, so no, Kathleen, the last thing I want to do is cause Mia to get hurt. Which is why I want her to start training at my gym rather than at your second-rate place with your second-rate trainers.”

  Kizzy leaped to her feet and stalked over to me. She glared at me so long I wondered if she’d skip conversation altogether and go for my throat. I didn’t want to fight a woman—any woman—but in the black mood I was in, her hitting me would probably feel good. Sometimes pain turned into a razor’s edge of pleasure. I bet Mia would agree.

  Mia, who’d gone spookily silent from her perch on the arm of the sofa, watched Kizzy and me with dead eyes.

  And that, more than anything, made me want to kick Kizzy’s ass—metaphorically if not in reality. Did she actually think I’d ever want to inflict more damage on someone who was already on the ropes? What the fuck kind of man did she think I was?

  “How do you know my name is Kathleen?” Kizzy fisted her hands on her hips.

  I nearly laughed that she’d led with that opening strike. “Recon,” I said simply, connecting my gaze with Mia’s.

  She got to her feet and left the room.

  Dropping my head to the back of the chair, I closed my eyes. Everything inside me insisted I go to her. But I couldn’t, not yet. Not when she’d probably just slam the door in my face again.

  I needed at least a couple minutes between rejections. I was weird like that.

  “Wake up.” Kizzy slapped my knee and my eyes popped open. “Do you want to get her killed?”

  “No.” As the reality of her words sank in deeper, digging into my skin like nails, my tone grew harsher. “No.”

  “Then what the fuck are you doing to her? She doesn’t miss training. Ever. She doesn’t drag herself around like she’s dying either. Did you just get a look at her? She’s one step away from falling flat in the ring tomorrow night and the only thing that’s changed is you.” Kizzy shook her head and braced her hands on the arms of my chair. “You want a piece of ass, you can get one anywhere. You ruin that girl and you’ll deal with me, asshole.”

  Fury burst through all the cracks inside me, forcing them wider open. “Sounds like you’re the one calling her a piece of ass, not me.” I started to say more, but fell silent as I glimpsed Carly watching us from behind the counter, her mouth screwed up in tight pucker.

  Great. Like Mia’s sister needed to hear that I was potentially using Mia as a piece of ass and that she might end up dead tomorrow night. Just your usual bedtime conversation.

  “Carly.” I pushed Kizzy back and rose. “Can you give us a second? Please?”<
br />
  “No.” She stuck up her chin in a stubborn gesture so like Mia that I had to catch my breath. “You’re talking about my sister. What’s going on? Who’s she going to fight?”

  While giving Kizzy a glance that said clearly this is your fault, I spoke to Carly. “You know your sister fights?”

  “Yeah, she’s told me a little about it. But she said it wasn’t any big thing, just a way to make some extra cash for us.”

  Sure. Just a way to make some money—and break some ribs, and lose some blood, and maybe damage your brain. Sounded like a typical part-time job to me.

  I didn’t want to make Carly worry unnecessarily, but I also had no intention of lying to her. I didn’t need that on my conscience.

  “Fighting can be dangerous.”

  Kizzy grunted and I shifted my foot to press down on her toes with my heel. She shut up.

  “It’s also a way you can make some cash if you get in and get out fast. Is that Mia’s plan?”

  Carly nodded. “She’s almost finished fighting. She just has one more big fight and then once she wins, we’re leaving.”

  The heat in my chest banked, everything going numb and still. Even my heart. “What do you mean, leaving? Leaving Brooklyn?”

  Carly shrugged. “Leaving Brooklyn, leaving the state. Maybe even the east coast entirely. We might go back home.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “Georgia.” From the wrinkle between her brows, she wasn’t in a big hurry to head south. “We don’t know yet. All she has to do is fight this guy and—” Her eyes widened. “Holy crap, you’re Fox. I heard the name last night, but I was tired and it didn’t connect. She’s going to fight you.” She shook her head. “Man, that’s some fucked-up shit.”

  I sagged into the chair I’d just vacated. The spring tried to give me another anal probe through my jeans, but I was too shell-shocked to care.

  Fucked-up shit didn’t even begin to cover this situation. And now I knew it was going to end before I’d even begun to shovel my way through it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mia

  In the center of my neatly made bed, I tucked my legs up to my chest and studied the rain slipping down the window.