by Cindi Madsen
“Then I’m glad you didn’t know. I’d hate to miss out on seeing this.” He lifted a hot pink bra, and I snatched it away. “You’re gonna have to model that for me some time.”
“In your dreams.”
“Oh, it’s definitely making an appearance in my dreams.”
I shook my head, the smile I failed to hold back only encouraging him, no doubt. I led him over piles of laundry and over to my paintings. “This one is my newest. It took me a while to prepare the canvas, and it’s mostly done, but I want to add a few more details.”
The girl on the canvas had a fierce expression, like the world was coming for her and she was preparing to fight for what she wanted. Blue bled from the color of her irises, down her cheek. Like she also knew it might hurt, but it wouldn’t stop her from doing what needed to be done.
I’d splattered different shades of pink here and there, mostly because I liked the pop of color and thought it proved pink didn’t necessarily mean girly or weak or anything people might usually ascribe to it.
“Like I said, it’s not done.” He was staring at it too intently, and a raw, vulnerable sensation unfurled in my chest, so I quickly reached for the others. “These ones are some of my favorites, and I submitted them to be spotlighted at this big art show called the Golden City Art Exhibition, but it was a super long shot, and I haven’t heard, so…”
I hadn’t meant to divulge that tidbit, and disappointment crept in, leaving my organs heavier than they’d been a moment ago. I’d wanted to prove to myself that I was good enough to play in the big leagues. Thanks to my logical side constantly telling me that not many people made a living on their artwork, following my passion hadn’t been easy. To counter that, I reminded myself that I believed in my paintings even if no one else did. I just really, really wanted other people to, because it was hard to live on an income of zero dollars for very long.
Shane squatted down in front of the canvases, moving to the girl wearing the contemplative look, chin propped on her fist. It was meant to encompass that moment right before a big decision or that beat after you’d made one and couldn’t decide if you regretted it. It was the feeling of being torn between two things.
Anyway, that was what it meant to me.
A lot of my paintings focused on eyes, what with them being the windows to the soul and all. Unlike a lot of my pieces, I hadn’t dripped color down from this girl’s eyes. I figured the moment depicted was either before or after the crying. It was also one of my few, relatively colorless pieces, just the sepia tones from the faded book pages.
Silence stretched, spreading the too-exposed sensation along with it.
“Damn, Brooklyn,” Shane said, his voice soft. “I knew they’d be good, but this is…” He made a gesture that encompassed all of the paintings. “This is where you throw your punches.”
I never thought about it that way, but I supposed I channeled everything I felt into them. If I was happy or if I was sad, or if I wanted to evoke a certain emotion. Mine bled onto the canvas, and I hoped other people would feel it, but I could never be sure.
He stood and cupped my cheek. “I love them. I want one in my apartment, over my bed.”
“Whatever, you don’t have to say that.”
“I’m serious,” he said, his tone and expression completely sincere. “I want one before you become big and famous and I have to fight through the crowd to see you.”
My smile stretched right into grin territory. “Good thing you’re so adept at fighting.”
“Good thing, or I wouldn’t be standing here across from you, about to kiss you.”
Butterflies erupted, and I was in serious danger of swooning. The world grinded to a halt as he leaned in. It whirred back to life as his lips brushed mine. Overwhelming happiness tumbled through me, leaving me light and floaty. Desire rushed up on its heels, anchoring me to this man, this moment. Our mini infinity, where nothing else existed.
I pushed him until his knees hit and buckled against my bed, taking control. I’d never felt so insatiable in the bedroom, especially since every time we had sex left me very, very satisfied.
I straddled his lap and reached for the hem of my shirt. “I think you’re turning me into a nympho.”
A grin curved his lips, but it died before it fully took hold, his attention drifting to a spot over my head.
“What the fuck?” Finn’s voice echoed through the room, and I winced, bracing myself for the oncoming shitstorm. Which was kind of like opening an umbrella mid-downpour.
Shane’s features went deadly calm, and in one fluid movement, he stood and moved me behind him. Like I might need the shield, when clearly he was in far more danger.
Tension snapped in the air, so tight it smothered all the oxygen. “Busted,” I muttered, hoping it’d lighten the mood.
It did not.
I held up a hand, praying it’d be more effective. “Finn, just stay calm.”
“Stay calm?” Shane whispered, like I didn’t realize my brother had passed calm and drifted into intent-to-murder territory. But saying “calm down” had never worked on anyone ever.
Finn’s eyes locked on to mine, so much disappointment and judgment in them I nearly choked on it. “Really, B? You didn’t learn your lesson last time?”
Okay, that hurt. Along with the sharp pain that lanced my heart, it brought my insecurities and doubts to the surface. “I know what I’m doing. I…” I stepped next to Shane and laced my fingers with his. “We…”
“We’re seeing each other,” Shane said when words failed me, “and it’s more than just sex.”
Finn’s jawline tightened, and I grimaced. “Maybe don’t mention the s-e-x.”
Not that it mattered. My brother looked like a bull about to charge, blowing steam from his nostrils, and Shane was the waving red flag.
“If you need to take a swing at me, go ahead.” Shane spread his arms wide. “I’ll give you one freebie.”
I pushed his arms down, desperation filling me—I needed to get control of this situation, and fast. “No one’s hitting anyone.”
“Speak for yourself.” Finn cracked his knuckles as he took a step forward, and I positioned myself between the two of them. Despite knowing the likelihood of this disastrous possibility, I’d dived on in, so it was on me to fix it. As impossible as it seemed, I’d like for all the guys in my life to be at least okay with each other. Instead of even looking down at me, my brother kept on advancing. “I’ll just give him a little taste of what’ll happen if he hurts you.”
“Finn.” I shoved both hands against his chest and met his gaze, pleading with him to listen. “You hurt him, you hurt me.” I glanced back at Shane. “That goes both ways.”
Shane held up his hands in surrender, and then he aimed the next words at Finn. “Hurting her is the last thing I want to do, but if I fuck up, you can take your swing, and I won’t bother blocking.”
I dragged a hand across my face. “And people say girls are the dramatic ones.”
Weirdly, Shane’s words did what I couldn’t—they settled Finn down from raging to a shade under angry. He shook his head. “This is going to get messy, no way around it.”
I frowned. How did he know? Sure, I’d thought it before, but I was giving hope another chance. “It’s complicated, yes. That doesn’t mean we can’t pull it off.”
Shane whipped his face toward mine, the disbelief in his features clear. Was that because he didn’t believe me? Or because he did? His expression softened, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. “With you by my side, we can take on the world.”
My heart melted, and I’d even let out an aww if my brother wasn’t glaring daggers at us, ruining the moment. But when we presented our united front, he shook his head again. Maybe not the ideal reaction, but anything less than swinging counted as a win in my book.
“You’re going to need to talk to Liam,” Finn said. “He already suspects it, and I’m not going to lie to him. Especially since this
is going to interfere with Knox’s training.”
Back to frowning, I snuggled tighter to Shane. “It is not. I understand how much time and effort it takes, and I’m not going to get in the way.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Your belief in me is astounding.”
“It’s not your ass on the line, B. It’s his”—he pointed at Shane—“and mine and Liam’s, and even Dad’s. We all need this win.”
“Oh, suddenly I’m not part of the team?”
“You are. Temporarily,” he said, his words hitting their mark and driving the ache nice and deep. I wanted to defend myself. To say that I couldn’t be part of the team full-time because it meant forgetting what was best for me, and I’d never do that again.
“Fine. Temporary or not, I get it. I’ll help him focus. I’ll do everything I can to make sure he wins his fight.” Now that it was all out there, it was actually a relief Finn knew. The relief fled pretty fast as I thought about coming clean to the rest of my family. “I get that Liam needs to know, but can’t we keep it from Dad? At least for a little while longer?”
Finn crossed his arms, his expression unyielding and flat.
And just like that, I had something besides bills to dread on Monday.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Shane
I was going to die, I was sure of it. My heart and lungs were trying to escape my chest, and black dots danced across my vision. The words “bring it on” would never pass my lips again. As for the real reason I was doing cardio drills from hell…I glanced at Brooklyn, who sat behind her desk, her attention on me and a worried look on her face.
She and I were officially out, and if this was what it took to keep on being with her, so be it. I’d held back while she and Finn had hashed out their shit on Saturday afternoon, but once the tension had cleared a bit, I hit my limit on being a spectator to discussions that involved me. “Do you guys need my input? You know, as the guy who’ll be in the cage?”
Brooklyn had placed a finger to my lips. “You just stand there and look pretty. I’ll let you know when it’s time for the punching and running.”
I’d slanted her a look. “How will I know when to grunt?”
“I’ll give you a sign.”
I’d pinched her side, earning a squeal that’d sent happiness through me. She thought we could pull off a relationship, and that made me want to give it my all. Meanwhile, Finn’s expression had made it clear he’d like to rip my hands off for putting them on his sister, but that’d been too damn bad, because I’d been in no hurry to let go.
Since I’d been trying to keep the goodwill going, I’d wiped the grin from my face and talked to him fighter-to-fighter. “My training’s on track, I don’t have many more pounds to drop, and no one understands how much is on the line more than I do. I know what it’s like to win, and I know what it’s like to lose, and I’m not planning on going the losing route again. I’ll take on any training you throw at me.”
Brooklyn had piped up, clearly wanting to jump in and add a few conditions. But after a quick glance from me to her brother, she mimed zipping her lips.
Finn had sighed and then a smile best described as sadistic spread across his face. “When it comes to training, I’m not the one you need to worry about.”
Now sweat dripped in my eyes as a testament to that statement, my legs seconds away from giving out on me. I’d started with Tabata blitz sprints on the treadmill, moved to Man Makers with forty-five-pound dumbbells for five minutes, and we were reaching minute seven of burpees with push-ups, which was when we usually stopped, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Liam pushed to eight or nine.
Without the ability to move my arms and legs, Brooklyn and I might have to get creative later tonight. I’d keep that to myself, though, as I doubted her brother would appreciate my ability to improvise if needed.
“Water break and a five, and then you’ll spar with Finn, and I want your focus to be on ground-and-pound,” Liam said. “Croc’s going to do everything to take you to the mat, and while it’d be better to keep him standing as long as possible, I want you to be ready to grapple at his level—at least as close as we can get you between all your extracurricular activities.”
I let that go.
As much as I wanted to swing by Brooklyn’s desk and say hello during the few minutes I had, I knew better. This morning she and I had called a “team meeting,” and with Finn looking on, we’d told Liam and Blake that she and I were dating.
Brooklyn pointed out she was an adult, fully capable of making her own decisions; I promised that I was committed as ever to Team Domination and would do all the training they threw my way to get ready for my upcoming fight; and the Roth men swore a lot and tried to talk us out of our relationship, while I tried not to take it personally. In their shoes, I wouldn’t want me dating their daughter or sister, either.
My mind replayed that moment Blake had stared at me with so much ferocity I’d physically forced myself not to budge and asked, “And what happens if things go bad? If Brooklyn breaks up with you?”
As hard as it’d been to hold my ground with him looking at me like he was calculating how many ways he could end me, that’d been the thing that hit me the hardest. The thought of Brooklyn breaking up with me. The way he’d made it sound like an inevitability.
“Are you gonna decide you can’t be around her, around us? You gonna throw a tantrum and go running to another team because you can’t handle not getting your way?”
“Dad,” Brooklyn said. “Jeez, if you want to point that anger somewhere, shoot it my way. I deserve it, right?”
Pieces started to fall into place. Remarks they’d made; the way Finn had asked about learning her lesson; and Brooklyn’s reluctance and constant assertions this would be a disaster. It made sense her and Conrad’s breakup would cause some friction, and obviously they heaped a great deal of the blame on her instead of the crybaby asshole. All this time I thought they’d kicked him off because he’d hurt her. I hated that they would even want him on the team after he’d treated her so shitty. But I was looking at it from a different perspective, instead of factoring in how much money the guy would’ve made them, something I knew made a huge difference in this world.
I got the message loud and clear. Win that fight, make us money, and if Brooklyn leaves you, we don’t want to hear a single complaint about it.
“I’ll stay no matter what happens between us,” I promised. They’d taken a risk on me, and I didn’t mind giving them loyalty they probably wouldn’t return if I didn’t win some fights, and soon. “And any type of training you’ve got to get me where I need to be? Bring it on.”
“I think we better get that first part in writing,” Blake said.
I returned his stare. “I’ll sign it right now.”
“Yeah, I’m super happy, Dad. Shane treats me really well, too. Thanks for asking.” Brooklyn had turned to Finn, then. “I kept my promise. So glad our relationship’s out there for everyone to crap on, and that you guys are getting to it as soon as possible. Now I better go get my work done so I can keep on being useful to the team.”
I’d wanted to go after her, but Liam had strode past and ordered me to follow. Now here we were, one training session from hell later and miles to go before I was through.
Brooklyn had put herself on the line for me today, and I figured since I was already in hell, I might as well settle in and enjoy the heat. So on my way back to the cage, I stopped by her desk. “You okay, bruiser?”
“I’m fine. What about you? You’re the one who’s getting the worse end of the deal with all the physical torture. Not that I haven’t enjoyed watching some of it, if I’m being totally honest.” The appreciative sound she made as she ran her gaze over me made the horrific workouts worth it.
“Let’s just get one thing cleared up right now.” I folded my forearms on the top of the half wall encasing her desk and locked eyes with her. “When it comes to me and you, I’m getting the deal.”
&
nbsp; She cracked a smile, her brother called out that I had ten seconds left in my break, and as I slowly backed away, she blew me a kiss.
I spun on my heel and headed toward the cage. In five more seconds, I’d turn my thoughts to every submission and takedown maneuver I knew and how I was going to use them on Conrad Rochenski. Until then, I was going to enjoy the fact that everyone now knew Brooklyn was mine.
She made me want to be a better person, and while I knew I was a long way from deserving her, I was going to give my all to change that.
Starting with winning the fight that I was going to turn every ounce of my focus on in three, two, one…
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Brooklyn
“Two meetings in one day?” Liam asked, crossing his arms over his sweat-soaked T-shirt. He’d pushed Shane hard, which meant he’d pushed himself hard, and in an effort to show that I could be an asset, despite “distracting” one of the fighters, I’d worked right on through lunch.
My mind spun over what I’d found, and while I wanted Liam to tell me he knew exactly where to find the missing money and that there was a lot of it, he wouldn’t be so stressed if the outlook wasn’t dire.
He shook the hair out of his eyes. “I swear, if you complain that I pushed your boyfriend too hard, I’m going to—”
“We’re going bankrupt,” I said, and the unfinished threat died on his tongue. “I’m finally up to date with our finances, and it’s not pretty. We were already circling the drain, but from the looks of it, the last lady who worked for us embezzled money—at least twenty grand, if not thirty.” Her numbers didn’t add up, and since she’d covered her tracks fairly well until right up to the end, it took me a while to figure it out.
I wanted to ask how he and Dad could let it happen, and why they hadn’t been checking up on her closer, but it wouldn’t do any good. “We could try to press charges, but it’s been months and she’s seemed to drop off the planet. I’m not even sure if the proof I have is solid enough, and hiring a lawyer would be more expensive, and…”