Unwound

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Unwound Page 23

by Lorelei James


  they’ve done, but I have no regrets. If I didn’t believe in the favor I’d been asked to do, I passed. TP never had an issue with that. Neither did Max.” Ronin peered into Amery’s eyes, half afraid of what he’d see. But those beautiful baby blues held interest and love, not a hint of disdain. “Are you satisfied now?”

  “Did you ever put money in TP’s bank, or is he still waiting?”

  “Remember when I told you I withdrew funds from a small trust account to finish my penthouse?”

  Amery nodded.

  “One beneficial thing my sister told me about my grandfather? It didn’t matter if I took out a single dollar or a million. The amount of money wasn’t the catalyst, just that I’d used any of it. As soon as I knew that, I cashed out every fucking penny of that trust. First thing I did was pay off my building.” Ronin sensed she wanted to ask him how much that was, so he told her. “That one small account had more than ten million dollars in it.”

  “Oh. My. Fucking. God. You have ten million dollars in the bank? Right now? Right here in Colorado?”

  Ronin smiled. “With TP’s investment guy looking after it, it’s closer to twenty million. And before you freak out, I live on what I make from the dojo. That money sits there. I’m happy without all the trappings of worrying about how to spend that much disposable cash. Most people don’t understand that. I’m really happy my bank balance doesn’t matter to you.”

  “I don’t think I could be so cavalier about money. Maybe that attitude is the privilege of people who have it.”

  He forced himself to ask the question, wondering if he should be afraid of her answer. “So, has hearing all this changed how you look at me now?”

  “No.” Amery curled her hand around the side of his face. “Anything you did, even if you bloodied your hands doing it, wasn’t done lightly or without good reason. I know you’re a man of integrity.” She slipped her hand down to the left side of his chest. “You have a good heart.”

  Ronin pressed his forehead to hers. “Baby, you own it.”

  Amery kissed him with the sweet comfort and acceptance he’d only ever gotten from her. Those soft lips trailed along his jaw, stopping at his ear. “I’m surprised we haven’t been interrupted yet. Is there anything else you need to get off your chest?”

  Just then Blue burst in and skidded to a stop. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s some pre-fight stuff we need to go over.”

  Amery whispered, “Later.” Then she slid off Ronin’s lap. “I need to track down my seat anyway.”

  “Ringside to the left of the judges table. Fifth row, outside seats,” Blue offered.

  After Amery left, Ronin said, “What’s up?”

  “The local affiliate for a national sports channel wants to interview someone from the Black and Blue promotion team. We never finished the discussion about who’s handling media.”

  “That’ll be Katie’s job—provided she survives her probation. But for now . . . fuck. I don’t want to be on camera. Do you?”

  “Fuck no,” Blue said. “TV interview shit is my least-favorite thing about fighting. Especially post-fight. Reporters sticking a damn camera in your face. Half the time I don’t know my own name, never mind talking coherently about fight strategy.”

  “We’re on the same page there. You want one of your guys and one of my guys?”

  Katie stormed in through the side door. “Who’s representing Black and Blue Promotions in the segment with KNNR?”

  Blue’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and his tongue almost smacked into the floor at seeing Katie in her ring-girl getup.

  “That’s what we’re discussing. Knox and Gil?”

  “No, no, no. This is the first promotional event, so it has to be the owners, if for no other reason than to show a solid front after Mr. Curacao’s public beat-down of you, Mr. Black.”

  The woman did have a point.

  Then she opened the door. “Get on with it. Smile, but don’t be goofy. Don’t be aloof either. Talk about the exciting amateur matchups tonight, but also about all the exciting matchups we’ve planned over the next few months. Then mention that mixed martial arts bouts are great entertainment for the whole family.”

  Ronin and Blue exchanged a look.

  Katie made the shooing motion again. “Go!”

  Out in the hallway, Blue said, “Who knew the hot ring girl also had a brain?”

  “Jesus, Blue.”

  “Her brain ain’t bigger than her tits. Did you see those? I mean, how could you miss them, spilling out of that teeny top, no?”

  “Maybe you should be thinking about this interview rather than Katie’s sizable . . . contributions to the company.”

  • • •

  AFTER the interview, five minutes before the event was slated to start, Ronin and Blue were in the hallway discussing last-minute details with their fighters, when Knox jogged up the hallway, Shiori hot on his heels.

  “Sensei, we’ve got a problem.”

  Never fucking failed. “What?”

  “The chick who’s matched with Sophia is drunk. Like passed-out drunk in the women’s locker room.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Nope.”

  “Where in the hell did you find her?” he demanded of Blue.

  But Sophia started hammering away at Blue in Portuguese before he could answer.

  Then Shiori got in his face. “Ronin, I can do this.”

  “Do what?” Ronin scarcely paid any attention to his sister as he was trying to figure out why Sophia was so pissed off at Blue.

  A shrill whistle split the air.

  All arguing stopped and they faced Knox. “Three minutes till show time. I’ll tell the announcer the women’s bout is off.”

  “No. I’ll fight in her place.”

  Shocked, Ronin looked at Shiori, dressed to kill in some slinky dress with sleeves that made her look like a butterfly. And she wore five-inch stilettos. “You’re not prepared.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Knox said hotly.

  Then Shiori went to stand in front of Blue. “You own half of the promotion company, and this was originally set up as your event. You need a fighter and I want to fight. I’m Rokudan. I’ve been teaching for two months and training in jujitsu my entire life. I’m not exactly unskilled. Or unprepared.”

  Blue gave her a considering look.

  “Goddammit, Blue, you can’t seriously—”

  Sophia cut Knox off with, “Let her fight me. Then at least I’ll know I have a worthy opponent and not a drunken whore you used to fuck. You owe me this, brother.”

  Blue said, “This is exactly why I didn’t want you on the card tonight. Or any night.”

  Sophia cocked her head at Shiori. “We need these men making decisions for us? People paid good money to see a fight. Let’s give them one.”

  Both women turned simultaneously toward Blue.

  He threw up his hands. “Fine! Fight. But the win-lose outcome better never affect either of you at the dojo. Understood?”

  “I’ll already be ringside with Deacon, so who will be ringside with She-Cat?” Knox asked.

  “Me,” Ronin said, slipping his arm around Shiori’s waist to keep her from clawing at Knox for his obnoxious nickname for her.

  “Thank you.”

  “I see a streak of stupid runs wide in the Black family,” Knox said.

  Sophia’s gaze moved over Shiori. “You have any gear with you?”

  “None.”

  “I’ve got extra.” Sophia grinned evilly. “Or we can just rip it off my drunken former opponent. Serve her right to wake up naked.”

  They headed to the women’s locker room.

  “Wonder if they’re doing each other’s hair, too?” Knox said snottily.

  “If you ask me if you can watch, I’m knocking you the fuck out,” Deacon drawled.

  Blue met Ronin’s gaze. “Look, I had no choice. Sophia accused me of rigging her fight.”

  “Did you?”


  “No. But I did sleep with the woman she was supposed to meet in the cage tonight.”

  Ronin’s eyes narrowed. “Please tell me you don’t have a problem keeping your dick in your pants.”

  Blue blushed. “I’m discreet. The one time I’m not? Came back to bite me in the ass.”

  The announcer started his spiel and they headed into the arena.

  • • •

  THE event center was packed to capacity; they’d had to turn spectators away so as not to violate fire code. It’d be tempting to book a bigger venue next time, but word of mouth about the sold-out status of tonight’s docket would pretty much guarantee early ticket sales for the next matchups.

  The lights started swirling and the music crescendoed. Pageantry was Ronin’s least-favorite part of MMA events. The fighter picking a theme song to enter the arena, a posse following behind him, while the crowd alternately booed and cheered.

  In the amateur fights, held in boxing gyms and private back rooms at dive bars, the participants were patted down, put in the ring, given a reminder of the rules, and then the round began. Usually the ref was someone like him, a former fighter past his head-knocking prime who still loved a good, fair fight.

  While Ronin liked to see professionalism and well-prepared fighters in the amateur division, something about the underground fights rang truer. Many guys in those bouts were in it for the money. Physical prowess played a part in it, but the chance to win a few hundred bucks for a few minutes’ work made it easier to clock in for their blue-collar jobs come Monday morning.

  Ronin scanned the Black and Blue seating section. Amery’s beautiful hair shone like a beacon, and he moved down the aisle, taking the empty seat next to her.

  Her eyes lit up when she saw him. “I thought you’d be in Deacon’s corner, coaching him.”

  “Knox has it covered.”

  She leaned over. “I’m glad I’m sitting beside you during my first ever MMA fight and not watching you fight.”

  He brushed a kiss over her temple.

  Katie vaulted onto the edge around the cage—easy to do with those mile-long legs of hers—and held up the round sign, moving from corner to corner, making sure to turn around and give the mostly male audience not only a look at her ass, but a reminder of the round sponsor’s name on the back of the card.

  Amery whapped Ronin’s arm to get his attention.

  “What?”

  “Good thing I’m fairly secure in our relationship, Master Black, or I’d be worried you’d fall for Katie’s holy-fucking-shit body.”

  “Fairly secure?” he repeated. “Guess I’ll have to tie you up later to make sure you’re very secure in the way I feel about you.”

  The announcer read the opponents’ names, trunk colors, corners, and which MMA club they represented—if any—before going over the rules.

  Ronin automatically tensed up when the fight started. His sweet Amery noticed and reached for his hand.

  The crowd was all about cheering for the Denver native. So when the opponent’s first kick connected with the guy’s knee, loud boos echoed through the arena.

  Denver wrestling guy took his opponent to the mat.

  Ronin glanced at the judges. Then he focused on Zach and Katie seated at the promotions table. Blue switched between watching the fight and flipping through paperwork.

  As soon as the round ended, Katie leaped onto the edge of the ring and did her thing.

  “Who do you think is winning?” Amery asked.

  “The Denver guy. I’d put his points around twenty and his opponent’s at thirteen,” he said absentmindedly while scanning the surrounding area.

  “Am I cramping your style or something?”

  Ronin’s gaze zoomed to hers. “Why would you say that?”

  “Although you’re sitting here, you’re not really here.”

  “Maybe it’s because I don’t know how to act when I’m not in the cage.”

  “Do you miss fighting?”

  “Yes. I’ve no doubt even when I’m an old man—hopefully not suffering from dementia pugilistica—that I’ll still miss being in the ring.” Ronin tucked an errant hank of hair over her shoulder. “Are you worried I’m going to climb back in?”

  “Yes. It’s in your blood.”

  Ronin couldn’t disagree. “I found out tonight it’s also in Shiori’s blood.”

  Amery’s gaze darted to the empty seats in front of them and back to Ronin. “Where is she?”

  “Warming up. The other female fighter passed out. Shiori volunteered to fill in.”

  “She’s fighting Sophia?” When she realized how loud her voice had gotten, she leaned closer. “And you let her?”

  “I had no say in whether or not she fights.” He knew if he would’ve argued, Shiori would’ve thrown back her lack of influence in his choices about fighting. “And now I’ll be coaching her.”

  “Ronin. How can you sit there and watch her without wanting to jump in and save her?”

  “Shiori has never been the type to need saving.”

  The second round started, but Ronin paid no attention. He’d been coached his whole life and done plenty of coaching himself, so he should know how to coach his sister. But his mind had gone blank.

  Focus. Find the calm.

  But he couldn’t when everything was in chaos.

  After the second round ended, Amery rested her cheek against his upper arm. “What can I do?”

  “Cheer for her.”

  “Will you be okay?”

  He deflected answering by kissing her. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ll meet you in the ready room after Deacon’s fight and we’ll head to the party.”

  • • •

  IT was more of an out-of-body experience trailing behind his sister as she entered the arena than when he walked in himself. She carried herself with feminine grace. After the official patted her down, checking to make sure her upper-body clothing didn’t have zippers or buttons and nothing had been hidden in her gloves, she ducked into the cage.

  Ronin took his spot in her corner behind the netting. Ito brought the bucket of supplies and the stool.

  Shiori approached him, calmer than he’d expected. In that moment, he had a punch of guilt that he had no clue whether she’d ever fought in an official fight before. During their teenage years, he’d participated in tournaments, but at a different level from his sister, so he’d never seen her compete.

  “You good?” Brilliant question, Ronin.

  “Yes.” She looked at him expectantly.

  He had to give her some kind of advice. “It’ll be a ground fight.”

  “I know.”

  “Watch the arm bar. Watch those fast reversals. She’ll be aggressive with the takedown and the mount. But don’t let that stop you from using short jabs, elbows, anything in guard position to keep her off balance.”

  “Noted.”

  He patted her shoulder. “Put her in her place, Rokudan. You got this.”

  Shiori grinned and slipped in her mouth guard.

  “In the red corner, we’ve got our replacement fighter in her amateur debut, all the way from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at one hundred and twenty pounds, representing Black Arts dojo, Shiori ‘She-Cat’ Hirano.”

  She-Cat? Jesus. Shiori was going to kill Knox after this.

 

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