by Meghan March
I must have made a noise, because Bodhi calls out from across the gym.
“Something wrong?”
I bite down on my lip, hard, as I fend off the burning sensation behind my eyes. I’m not going to cry about this. Especially not in front of a stranger.
I shake my head instead, not trusting my voice, but Bodhi’s features turn stony.
“Something’s wrong.”
“Nothing. It’s fine.”
He stows the pads in a storage closet and walks toward the lockers. “You sure?”
“It’s nothing. I need to go.” I shove my phone into my purse and hold it tight to my body.
Bodhi stands between me and the door. “I don’t like being lied to, but I really fucking hate men who make women cry. You need someone taught a lesson, I know a guy.”
His gruff, slightly terrifying offer is completely unexpected, but I’m not equipped to respond. All I can manage is another nod and a whispered, “Thank you.”
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he says to my back as I rush out of the room and try to pull it together before I let my dad’s comment crush me.
I form reply after reply in my head. Why can’t you just be a normal, supportive dad? Why do you like my ex-boyfriend better than me? Why isn’t a daughter enough for you? But, as always, I don’t ask any of the questions that run through my brain.
No, I go with something else entirely instead.
* * *
Scarlett: Then you marry him, Dad.
* * *
I can barely see through the unshed tears blurring my vision as I do something I shouldn’t. I tap on Legend’s name and write a message.
* * *
Scarlett: Are you busy? I need to let go and have fun now. I can’t wait for Saturday. I don’t even care what we do.
Forty-Three
Legend
My phone buzzes as Roux and I are walking up to the door of the gym near the club. I’ve been crunching numbers all day, seeing how bad the damage is, even after the best night we’ve had since opening.
It’s still bad, but instead of facing a hopeless uphill battle, we’ve got a small victory behind us. If the weeknight crowds hold up and we have another strong weekend, we’ll be able to make the investor payment. Until then, we’re watching every single penny, and I won’t be sleeping much at night.
A shot of adrenaline punches through my system when I see her name on the screen. I took a risk this morning, sending that text, but it felt right. Her response felt even better.
But now . . . something’s off, and I don’t like it.
The only thing I want to do is see her in person to make sure she’s okay. Because if that asshole of a fucking ex-boyfriend of hers came back . . . well, I’m not making any promises. I warned him. I won’t warn him again.
That’s second to my concern about her, though.
* * *
Legend: Where are you?
* * *
She replies instantly with a location that’s only a few blocks away.
* * *
Legend: Meet me at Bang’s Gym. We’ll figure it out from there, okay?
* * *
I include the address of Bang’s and smile when she replies.
* * *
Scarlett: Be there in ten. Thank you.
* * *
When I walk inside, with Roux trotting after me, I drop my gym bag and scan the fighters who are training. I recognize a few of them, but no one I really know. Bohannon’s probably out making movies, and thankfully, Rolo is nowhere to be seen.
I fuck with my phone for a few minutes and check the door every time the bells hanging from the door jingle.
Until I see her.
The Bang’s boxing-glove logo slides sideways as she pushes open the glass door. She’s dressed like she just came from the gym herself. Normally, if a woman asked me to meet up, I’d expect it was part of a plan to get some dick, and she’d usually be all made up.
But not Scarlett. Her blond hair is up in a ponytail, there’s sweat dotting her forehead, and even though her leggings and tank are cute as fuck, she’s in no way dressed for seduction.
It’s refreshing. Like she actually wanted to see me just to hang out and have fun.
I’ve got no problem with that at all.
“Hey,” I say to her as she walks inside. Her face lights up when she sees me, and holy shit, I like it.
“Hey,” she replies, a smile curving her lips as she comes toward the corner where Roux and I are parked.
Fuck, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this in public, because I don’t know if I can keep my fucking hands off her.
Roux takes care of that for me, though, as she jumps up from where she’d settled by my feet and trots toward Scarlett, nosing around her feet and legs.
Instead of freaking out that a giant, strange dog is sniffing her, Scarlett holds out a hand and waits for Roux to lick it before looking to me.
“May I pet her?”
I nod. “Yeah. She’ll like that.”
Scarlett drops to one knee and scratches under Roux’s throat, which my dog eats up like she’s never been shown affection before. From the way her tail is thumping against the rubber gym flooring, you’d think she’d cause an earthquake.
“What a pretty girl. Her name is Roux, right?”
Considering it’s my less-than-creative social media handle, it’s no surprise Scarlett remembers.
“Yeah, and she’s an attention whore when it comes to new targets, so don’t be surprised if she decides she’s your new best friend.”
Scarlett rises and gives her a few more scratches behind the ears before she closes the distance between us. “I don’t think I’d mind. She’s sweet.”
The dog in question headbutts my leg as if reminding me that I also know how to pet her. She wedges between us and I give her a pat, but my attention is on the woman in front of me.
“What’s going on? Your text . . .” I pause, watching as she bites down on her lower lip. “It seemed like there might be something wrong.”
Her teeth sink deeper into the flesh for a beat before she closes her eyes. “Do you ever feel like you just need to break out of your box and live?” When her gray gaze collides with mine again, there’s something in it that I can’t interpret. Something did happen, and I don’t know what.
“You feeling a little hemmed in today?”
Her nod is instant. “My dad . . . he and I don’t have a great relationship. He’s . . . traditional, I guess.”
“He’s giving you shit about something?” I ask, not understanding what her dad has to do with her wanting to break out of her box and live.
“Yeah. Chadwick.”
“Ahh . . . the asshat from the club.” I shake my head. “Your dad doesn’t get how he really is, does he? No father would want that for his daughter. Not the shit I saw and heard.”
Red blooms on her cheeks, and I’m kicking myself for embarrassing her.
“Hey, forget I said that.”
She shakes her head. “No. You’re right. No father should want that for his daughter, but my dad isn’t exactly all about what’s best for me. He’s more worried about having someone to groom to take over his company, someone to go golfing and hunting with—and spoiler, that someone isn’t me. Not just because I have more work than I can handle already with my own company, but because I’m not a good ol’ boy, and that’s the only kind of person my father relates to. Not his wife—who divorced him when she caught him banging his secretary, how cliché—and definitely not his daughter.”
“Ouch. Fuck. That sucks.”
She shrugs it off like she’s used to being disappointed by her old man. “It is what it is. I just keep hoping that someday, he’ll look at me and say, ‘Scarlett, I’m proud of you. You’ve done a hell of a job. Don’t be a stranger at Christmas. It’s not a holiday without family.’”
Roux nudges her hand, and Scarlett doesn’t miss a beat petting my baby girl.
Her gray eyes get big. “Yeah, you. You were the first person on my mind.”
I’m not used to bold honesty when it comes to women in my life. Most of them are lying to me and themselves too often to even know what the truth is.
But Scarlett . . . she’s different, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with privilege or money. It’s just her.
“I don’t mind.”
The corners of her mouth tug upward, and I catch a flash of dimples. Fucking hell, when’s the last time I met a woman with dimples?
“Oh. Well, good. Also, my friends call me Scar. Or you know, since I’ve learned like six ways to kill someone in my last two self-defense classes, you could give me a fighter name. Like Black Widow or something badass. I’d be cool with that too.”
I must make her nervous, because she’s talking fast and bouncing from subject to subject. I grasp onto the important part, though. “Self-defense classes?”
“Yeah, I started last Friday. My financial advisor pulled rank and told me I shouldn’t take any more chances after the crazy trolls we have commenting on my social media. But I probably wouldn’t have agreed if I hadn’t been accidentally kidnapped recently.”
Guilt rushes in, and I dip my head. “You’ll never know how sorry I am that happened. Bump is . . . well, he’s special. He was trying to help, and you got caught up in something that shouldn’t have touched you.”
Her hand darts out and slides into mine with a squeeze. I lift my gaze to hers and drown in those clear gray eyes.
“I appreciate the apology, but I think we can let it go. Besides, if he hadn’t done it, I would never have met you, Gabriel. And that would be a big problem, at least from my perspective.”
I was right before. I’m so totally fucked.
Forty-Four
Scarlett
“My friends call me Legend. Or Gabe. No one calls me Gabriel.”
“Well, I’ll let you call me Black Widow if I can call you Gabriel.”
He squeezes my hand before reaching up with his free one. He stops short of my face, and I desperately wish he wouldn’t.
“You’re more ladybug than black widow, sweetheart.”
“Ladybug.” I pretend to think about the name, but I’m mostly hyperventilating that his fingers are inches from my skin. “Not quite as badass, but I suppose it could work.”
“Now, who do we have here?”
A man’s voice comes from the doorway, and Gabriel pulls his hand from mine. The other hovering near my face drops to his side as his expression turns to stone.
“Rolo. Running into you twice in a week doesn’t feel like a coincidence.”
The man, tall with short black hair and tanned skin lined from what looks like years of hard living, wears a department-store-quality suit rather than gym clothes, which instantly trips my curiosity. That, and the fact that Gabriel doesn’t seem happy to see him.
“I stopped by the club. Bump told me where I could find you. I got a proposition for you.”
“Not the time or place. I’m busy, Rolo.”
The man tilts his head to the side and studies me. “You’re not even going to introduce me to this pretty lady? Come on, Legend. That’s just rude.”
Gabriel’s lips press together into a hard line. “Rolo, Scarlett Priest. Scarlett, my old fight promoter, Rolo.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” Rolo says as he takes my hand and shakes it. “I’ve heard of you. You were all over the papers Sunday after you spent the night living it up at Gabe’s club. Something about you bringing it back to life?”
“My friends and I were out having fun. It just makes sense that we’d go to the hottest place in town.”
Rolo huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure that was it. I’m sure it didn’t have anything to do with you trying to be the lucky girl who finally catches this guy. Did you know that he hasn’t had a girlfriend in over a decade? Not in the entire time I’ve known him. I hope you know what you’re doing, getting mixed up with this guy, Ms. Priest.”
I decide then and there that I don’t like Rolo. He might be an old friend of Gabriel’s, but there’s nothing friendly about this exchange. It’s brittle, rife with sharp edges and undercurrents I don’t understand.
“That’s enough, Rolo.”
The older man swings his attention back to Gabriel like he’s forgotten I exist. “You still need money? I’m willing to bet big you do. And Bodhi Black is a solid payday—if he doesn’t kill you.”
The name catches my attention, especially considering where I just came from, and what feels like all the blood drains out of my face as my attention snaps to Gabriel. “You’re going to fight Bodhi Black?”
His brow furrows. “You know who he is?”
“He’s my self-defense instructor,” I say with horror underlying my tone. “He taught me how to kill people.”
Rolo’s booming laugh fills the gym, and several fighters stop punching to look at him.
“Fuck, that’s great. She won’t know who to cheer for. Let me know when you make up your mind, Gabe. Offer won’t stand forever. So check your pride at the door and let me make us both some money.”
Forty-Five
Legend
Rolo walks away, and all I can think is fucking hell.
Beside me, Roux’s fur stands on end, something she’s never done around Rolo. I give her a pat, trying to calm her down. She must be picking up on my irritation with the man.
I turn to Scarlett. “You’re taking self-defense with Bodhi Black?”
She points at her workout clothes. “I just came from there. And what did he mean about the money? And if he doesn’t kill you? Because that sounds really, really bad, Gabriel.”
Hearing her call me by a name no one has really ever used feels foreign to me, but I like the sound of it. I just hate that I’m hearing it while we’re talking about her spending time with the guy who would love nothing more than to leave me broken and bleeding in the cage.
“Black and I have history. He wants a rematch. I don’t. That’s all there is to it.”
“And Rolo wants you to take the fight so you can make money to shore up the club’s finances.”
“I forget you’re a CEO.”
“Yeah, and you’ve already enlisted my help in getting customers back into the club. If you think I’m going to drop the ball on that so you have to take a fight that could end up with you dead, then you don’t know me very well. I don’t quit. Not when it matters, and certainly not when people are counting on me.”
I snap out of the pall Rolo dropped over us. “Come on, ladybug. Let’s get out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know yet, but first comes the fun. Then we can talk business.”
“You drive this. In the city.” Scarlett says it for the third time as we finally get out of Manhattan and closer to our destination.
I’m still in shock at the level of trust she places in me. I decided on a place and told her we’d need to walk back to the club so I could drop Roux off and get my Bronco and drive us there, and she’s along for the ride with no questions asked. Except for her shock over my truck.
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s a giant pain in the ass, but I’m from the South, and that means I love jacked-up 4x4s. That’s not something that will ever change.”
She shakes her head like it’s the most mind-boggling thing she’s ever heard. Just wait until we get where we’re heading. I’ll bet it’s something she’s never done before.
Actually . . . there’s one question I should have asked first, but I didn’t.
“Do you know how to drive?”
Scarlett’s head whips toward me. “Of course I know how to drive. I mean, I took the classes and passed the tests.”
; I pause and consider what she’s saying. “So you know how to drive in theory . . . but how long has it been since you’ve been behind the wheel of a car?”
The look on her face tells me everything I need to know.
“It’s been a while. A few years? I swear I drove in the Hamptons . . .”
I burst out laughing because I can’t help it.
A little line forms between her brows. “What?”
“You’re such a typical New Yorker. It’s cute. Really.”
This causes her to wrinkle her nose like I’ve just insulted her. “Cute? I’ll have you know that I am not cute. I am a strong, capable woman who can drive if needed. Just . . . maybe not if we’re in tons of traffic and I have to change lanes a lot.”
She’s partly wrong there. She is fucking cute. Way too fucking cute for her own good. And that’s on top of being devastatingly beautiful and everything I can’t seem to stay away from, no matter how much this could cost me.
“You’ll be fine. I promise.” I glance over again and see her expression morph into something akin to horror.
“We’re going driving? I thought you said it was going to be fun! That’s stressful, Gabe. Stressful is not fun.”
Gabe. People call me Gabe all the time, but coming from her, I like it more than I’ve ever liked it before. Huh. Who knew?
But she’s waiting for me to reply, so I push away the thought. “Not real cars. Go-karts. You’ll love it. You can’t break anything.”
“Go-karts,” she whispers at first, but then confidence grows in her tone. “I’ve never driven one of those before, but if a little kid can do it, I can too.”
“You’ll be fine, ladybug. I promise. We’re almost there.”