by Quinn, Cari
I sprawled in the single armchair, wincing 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. “Is 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 for 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’d 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?
Kizzy fisted her hands on her hips. “How do you know my name is Kathleen?”
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 slam the door in my face again.
I needed at least a couple of 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 I fell silent as I glimpsed Carly watching us from behind the counter, her mouth screwed up tight.
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?”
“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 begun to shovel my way through it.
Eighteen
In the center of my neatly made bed, I tucked my legs up to my chest and studied the rain slipping down the window.
Welcome to New York. Days of intermittent snow, then a night of rain. By tomorrow, it could be seventy and sunny.
A girl could dream.
I was ready to dream. I was also ready to get out of New York. Georgia or Louisiana were looking better all the time. Someplace warm where I wouldn’t have to wear long underwear to sleep in half the year because I had the core body temperature of a wood tree frog.
We’d almost reached the finish line. All I had to do was execute the plan I’d devised. Kizzy was right. I wasn’t acting like myself. I never missed training, and today, I’d just rolled over and gone back to sleep. I couldn’t risk losing everything when I was finally so freaking close to getting what I’d always wanted.
Money. Freedom. A new start with my sister, far from everyone and everything in New York.
That meant I had to stay away from Fox. If people saw us together before our fight, they’d think it was a big sham. Kizzy was already getting suspicious. I’d never had trouble controlling my hormones, and I wasn’t about to develop bad habits at the worst time.
I’d had my fun—ha—and that was that. I’d never met a problem I couldn’t find a solution to. And that was all he was. A problem. An impediment to my goal.
A roadblock with a sinful body and smart mouth and eyes like aquamarines.
Without looking at the doorway, I knew the moment Fox entered. The air in the room changed, the molecules scattering in deference to his overpowering energy.
He sat on the edge of my mattress, dipping it almost to the floor. I didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. I was already imagining the small room as he must see it. I’d shoved the full bed against the wall to make a big open space in the center for my exercise mat. A small worn dresser and kid’s desk I’d lugged home from the thrift store made up the rest of the room’s furniture. I didn’t even have a nightstand. It
was a miracle I had a closet.
He didn’t know Carly and I would be sharing this bed while she was in town. We hadn’t even discussed how long that would be yet. She’d promised to tell me everything this weekend, and since I had enough on my mind with my upcoming fight—my last before I fought Fox—I’d let it slide. My overloaded brain could only accommodate so much information, and she was a good kid. If she said everything was okay, I had to believe her.
God knew I needed to have faith in something.
I waited for him to tear into me. For what, I wasn’t even sure. My latest offense was walking out on the guests in my living room and hiding out like some uncivilized beast.
But he didn’t. He only pointed at the pair of items propped next to the narrow window. “You fence?”
Rather than answer, I uncurled myself from my position and walked over to pick up my foil. He’d moved to my side so I handed him the other.
“Kizzy and I fence here sometimes. It’s not sanctioned at the gym.”
A smile crooked up his mouth. “Can’t fence, but bruising your brain is fine. Good to hear they have standards.”
“Do you want to?” Afraid he’d get the wrong idea, I gestured with my weapon. “Fence, I mean. I have a protective chest panel you could wear. It’s not as good as a regular fencing outfit, but Kizzy’s won’t fit you.” When he didn’t immediately reply, I hurried ahead. “If you’re unfamiliar, I can show you the basics—”
“Sweetheart, I’d love for you to show me the basics to just about anything, but I know how to fence. I’ve just never done it in a room this small. It’s dangerous.”
Because I’d already caught the light of interest in his eyes, I nodded. He was like me that way. Adrenaline junkies until the end. “It can be.”
He nodded at the closet. “Show me what you’ve got for gear.”
Into my tiny closet I went. I didn’t have much stuff to sort through. Carly’s belongings already overflowed my meager space, and I knew she hadn’t brought everything. But it was enough to make me wonder if she intended to go back upstate at all.
If maybe our new life was starting sooner than I’d planned.
I dragged out my fencing jacket and the protector I’d mentioned. The plastic was covered by the ugliest gray plaid I’d ever seen. Velcro strips wrapped around the back. I bit my lip and turned to him, trying to judge if he could wear the protector without seeming as if I was ogling his body.
Who could blame me for ogling a little? Especially now that I knew what he looked like half-naked? All that taut, tanned skin stretched over perfectly toned muscles. And that tattoo that somehow matched mine, as if we’d been created as a set and all these years never knew it.
I rubbed my bleary eyes. What I needed was sleep, not to be jabbing at the guy I’d so foolishly had sex with. I’d done that enough already, minus the deadly weapon.
“Never mind your piece of government cheese. I’ll use this.” He picked up his coat from where I’d flung it over my bedpost. He shot me a grin over his shoulder. “It’ll act as added incentive for you not to kill me. At least you’ll want to protect the jacket.”
It hurt me to smile. Physically hurt. My split lip still hadn’t fully healed yet, but that wasn’t why. I didn’t get why things had to be this way. How he could be—well, the way he was. He had his flaws like anyone else. Probably big ones. We barely knew each other, but I already knew he had a hot temper and a propensity for violence.
Just like I did.
I also knew he could be gentle and that he tried to take care of me in small ways he didn’t think I’d notice. The coat, the soaping in his tub. The way he’d followed me home to make sure I was okay after he’d said more than he intended. I wasn’t worth much. I didn’t have any illusions about that. I hadn’t been mad at him for saying those words. They were true.
Sometimes I forgot for a minute or two. Especially when I was with him. He was the reason my stupid traitorous heart kept pushing at the walls of my chest in a futile bid to get out of its damn cage.
I wanted to be a woman. I wanted to laugh with a guy, and hold hands, and have sex. I wanted to feel things, even if they hurt. I had no idea how to be in a regular relationship, but I wanted to try. There was so much more to life than what I’d experienced, and in only a few days, Fox had given me a big, delicious taste.
Now I was so hungry for more that I couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand myself, because I was broken. If I hadn’t been, maybe I could’ve abandoned the fight idea and just gotten a normal job to earn the money we’d need to start over. The wounds on my face would heal. The scars on my body would fade. But I’d never be normal enough to walk the same path as regular people. I’d never feel at ease in an office, with cubicle walls pressing in on all sides and too many pairs of eyes watching me.
The bar was different. For the most part, I was just a hand on a bottle, pouring my patrons’ preferred poison. Even the extra service I’d provided for a fee hadn’t been about me. I was just one more ghost moving through a sea of them. Hand out, mouth open, it was all the same.
“Mia?”
Shaking off the concern in his tone, I shed my shirt and pulled on my fencing jacket. It was a modified, much cheaper version than what real fencers would wear, but the worst thing that could happen was that I’d get stabbed.
Worst? Best? Hard to say.
“Nothing above the neck or below the waist.” I picked up my foil. “You’re familiar with the basic moves?”
He’d shoved his arms through his jacket so he wore it back to front like an oversized leather bib. “I said I was.” He didn’t sound concerned anymore. Now he sounded irritated.
Yeah, well, his fault for trying to interact with an emotional zombie. At least I wasn’t the only one to blame for this mess.
“En garde,” I said, my mind already locking into place for battle. In the end, fighting was all I had.
All I was.
We circled each other. From his hesitant movements, I swiftly realized he wouldn’t strike first. He would wait for me. Protecting the little woman to the last.
I didn’t attack right away. Normally, my style was to charge in first before my opponent had his guard fully in place and brawling like my life depended on it. Sometimes that was enough. Sometimes it wasn’t. Only when my opponent thought she had me on the ropes did I become the spider from which I’d earned my name. Waiting, biding my time. Picking my moment to go in for the kill.
Fencing required a different sort of dance. I had to show Fox he wasn’t the only one with speed. And that I wasn’t going to pull my punches, whether with my fists or my foil.
I came in low along his right side since he was a leftie. He countered effortlessly, and in riposte, aimed just under my shoulder. I parried and jabbed again, higher on the same side. Shifting closer, tempting him to counter by thrusting at the same spot again. Encouraging him to think I’d keep aiming at the places he would expect. His foil clashed against mine, and he gave me a feral smile, teeth bared.
Oh, yeah, it was on.
We went again, circling endlessly, slapping blades, lunging low, attacking high. Pushing each other across the room and back again, skirting furniture and avoiding walls. He was right. This room was way too small for this. He wasn’t petite like Kizzy. The guy owned the space, turning me into a planet that orbited his sun.
I didn’t like feeling dominated by his sheer size and started getting annoyed and sloppy. I hadn’t fenced in awhile, and he was better than I’d expected.
Breathing hard, sweating more than a little, I ramped up my game, but it didn’t make much difference. He seemed to know my moves before I executed them and was so light on his feet that I couldn’t even jab the tip of my blade against his coat.
Until I did, and the material tore with a vicious slice.
Fox gasped and I dropped my foil, sending it clattering across the floor.
Oh, shit.
I rushed to him, already praying aloud, apologizing, begging him
not to be hurt as I pulled off the coat and saw that his shirt was…
Not damaged at all.
Still expecting him to keel over any moment, I glanced up and glimpsed his wide grin. The fucker.
“Just a flesh wound.”
He lifted his hand to my sweaty cheek and trailed his thumb down to my mouth. My pulse raged in my ears, and I couldn’t take in enough air. I thought I’d stabbed him in the damn chest.
“Worried about me, baby?” he asked breathlessly, still grinning.
And I lost it.
I grabbed his Vinnie’s T-shirt in both hands, maybe to use it to strangle him with. Maybe to rip it off. Whatever my intention, it split just the same, the thin fabric rending with not a whole lot of effort on my part. I was strong, but this was a new level even for me.
Fox’s smile disappeared. “Uh, Mia—”
“Shut up.” Blind with fury, I stalked to the door he’d neglected to shut behind him and pushed it closed, then flipped the lock. I turned to find him right at my back, eyeing me with something way different than trepidation.
One thing I had to say about the guy—he caught on quick.
He didn’t have to reach for my jacket, because I was already yanking it off. My bra followed while he went for my jeans. He skipped the button and zipper entirely, shoving the baggy denim over my ass, then banded an arm under the back of my thighs to haul me right off my feet. I let out a startled squeal as his mouth descended on mine, hard as a bruise, almost violent in its intensity.
I welcomed every bit of his wildness. His deeply thrusting tongue, his punishing lips, the way his teeth clashed against mine. We fed on each other like animals. My hunger finally had an outlet and I sated it without thought.
Without warning, he carted me across the room and tossed me down, jarring my spine against my mattress. A giddy breath whooshed out of me. I’d never thought I would like to be manhandled again, not after I’d had my boundaries so ruthlessly violated years ago. Except this was different. He wasn’t being rough with me to bend me to his will, but because we both needed it that way.
