DS Fight Club Box Set (Volumes 0-3)

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DS Fight Club Box Set (Volumes 0-3) Page 68

by Josie Kerr


  Colin, who had been screaming at Dig to “dig deep, motherfucker” about thirty seconds prior, stopped his yelling and jogged to the desk to greet Junior.

  “Junior, my man. Welcome back. I trust Freddie got you back okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. You didn’t have to do that, Gordo. There are about fifteen flights a day from Newark.”

  Colin waved him off. “You needed to get home, but we’ll talk about that later. All of us.” Colin fixed Nanda in his silvery-blue stare.

  Nanda rolled her eyes. “I hear you, C. Sheesh. Stop giving me that look. Don’t you have a heavyweight fighter that you need to be abusing or something?”

  “Actually, Junior’s the one who’s in charge of Dig’s training.” Colin turned to Junior. “He’s all warmed up and loose. There’s no time like the present.”

  “Derek, you good hanging out with Nanda until I finish this session?”

  “Oh, he’ll be good. I’ll make sure he meets everyone.” Nanda beamed at her brother and his boyfriend, showing every tooth in her mouth.

  “Dios. You look like a piranha when you smile like that. Cut that shit out.” Junior leaned over and planted a smacking kiss on Derek’s cheek. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit, Derek.” And with a little wink, Junior jogged off to join Dig on a training mat.

  “Let’s put your stuff in Junior’s office, and then I’ll show you around, okay?”

  After having been relieved from Derek Duty to allow Junior and Derek to check in to their hotel, Nanda practically ran into the communal kitchen, which doubled as the break room, of the fight club to catch her breath and process the events of the previous few days. She sank down into the leather couch and put her face in her hands.

  First of all, she was pretty sure that Derek was seeing someone else in addition to Junior. He had gotten a call while Nanda was showing him around the fight club and had visibly paled when he saw who was calling. He had excused himself to take the call, and once he returned, he seemed artificially chipper. Nanda had been around enough cheaters to know the signs. Now she had to decide if she wanted to intervene or let the relationship implode on its own.

  And speaking of imploding relationships, she hoped to God that Dig hadn’t already told Junior about their . . . whatever it was. She needed to tell her brother first, or Dig might just not make it to the official octagon before he faced a thoroughly pissed off Jiu Jitsu black belt.

  She groaned, thinking about how that particular conversation was going to go down.

  “Need some aspirin? Ibuprofen? Bourbon?”

  Nanda chuckled and patted the cushion next to her. “Hey, Ryan. Nah, I’m okay.”

  “Good.” Ryan hesitated a moment but ended up plopping down next to Nanda. He shifted a bit and grimaced but threw his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

  “Looks like you’re the one that needs some ibuprofen. Your hip bothering you today?”

  “Not any more than it usually does. The orthopedist thinks I need some more surgery.”

  “How many would that be?”

  “Five.” Ryan studied her hand in his for a moment and then continued talking. “I was in my second year of nursing school when the Towers went down. Jason had joined the Marines right out of high school, so he was already in it, kind of. I decided I needed to do something that mattered as well.”

  “You wanted to be a nurse, not a doctor?”

  “Yeah. Do you think that’s weird?”

  “Not at all. You’d make an awesome nurse. You’ve got a good bedside manner.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  “Ryan, trust me. I see the rapport you have with these guys when you’re wrapping them. You get them in the zone. It’s good.”

  Ryan sighed. “Anyway, a lot of shit happened. Now I’m back, fifteen years later.”

  “You ever thought about going back, finishing up?”

  “I gotta get my head un-fucked first.” He was quiet a moment while he sat and held Nanda’s hand. “Junior got it. Junior gets me in a way that no one else does, not even Jason.”

  “Has he told you about his shit?”

  Ryan shook his head. “No, but I’ve seen the scar that goes through his shoulder from front to back.”

  “That’s just part of it, but that’s not my story to tell. Of course, I wasn’t very old when all that went down, and Mamá shielded me from a lot of the uglier aspects of it, but you two have an awful lot in common.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You really like him, don’t you?”

  Ryan shrugged a shoulder, and that gesture told Nanda all she needed to know.

  “Oh, Ryan. You’ll be okay. Remember that ‘it’ll all be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.’ ”

  “Fuckin’ optimists, man.” He shook his head and snorted a laugh. “Thanks for listening, Nanda.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  “It’s enough.” He cleared his throat. “So, you told your brother you’re bumping uglies with his fighter?”

  “How the fuck do you know that?” Oops.

  Ryan chuckled. “Dig was way too chipper to have been up half the night to only be making sure you’re safe. Plus, you two kept on sneaking looks at one another, and not too subtly, I might add.”

  Nanda groaned. “No, Junior’s been busy training my uglies-bumping partner, and I’ve been babysitting his boyfriend all afternoon. Hopefully, we’ll get a chance to catch up tonight without Derek hanging around. They’ve gone to check in to the hotel right now.”

  “Yeah.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze. “So, how is the boyfriend?”

  Nanda shrugged. “He’s okay, I guess. Funnier than I expected for an insurance salesman.”

  “Talk about damning with faint praise.” Ryan snorted. “Do you think he’ll move back permanently once this fight is over?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. A lot can happen in twelve weeks.” Nanda turned to look at Ryan. He stared straight ahead, and she could see his jaw flex when he clenched it. “Oh, Ryan, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

  Ryan blew out a ragged breath. “I am an idiot.” He chuckled sadly. “A goddamn idiot.”

  “No, you’re not. For what it’s worth, I’d much prefer you to be with Junior than that overgrown frat boy.”

  Ryan laughed. “That actually doesn’t make me feel any better, you know?”

  “Sorry?”

  “There you are.” Junior stuck his head in the door, a frown on his face. “I’ve been looking around for you, Nanda. You had me worried.”

  “Sorry, Junior. Ryan and I got to talking. I lost track of time.”

  “Hey, Ryan.”

  “Hey, Junior.” The two men stared at each other until Nanda wanted to scream and knock both of their heads together. “Well, I guess I better get going. I gotta cabinet set to finish before the install in two weeks. Junior, good to have you back.”

  Ryan got up and pushed past Junior and didn’t look back.

  Nanda shook her head. “We have to talk, Junior.”

  “I know we do, Nanda. Trust me, I know.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “Wow, this is nice, Junior.” Nanda whistled through her teeth. “Is Mr. Insurance Moneybags paying for this, because as well as C pays me, there’s no way I can afford that price that I saw on the door.”

  “Relax. I’m paying, and anyway, Derek got a conference rate. It’s all good.”

  Nanda watched as Junior scrubbed his hand over his face and head, and noticed how tired and stressed her brother looked. She raised her eyebrows at him when he pulled a beer from a brown bag in the mini fridge, for Junior generally held himself to fighter rules during a camp: no booze, no drugs, no sex.

  “You don’t get to hassle me, Sis. Not this time.”

  “Why? Because I’m the one that got you into this mess in the first place? You don’t need to remind me of that. I already feel like shit, thank you very mu
ch.”

  “No, no, no. I didn’t mean it that way, Nanda. I just . . . I just don’t know.”

  “Don’t know? About what?”

  Junior sat on the arm of a chair and looked around the suite. “I don’t know how to keep you safe.”

  “You are not responsible for keeping me safe. That is not your job. Your job is to get Dig ready for this fight so he doesn’t get his ass kicked. You can’t do that if you’re distracted with worrying about me. If you worry about me, you’re doing a disservice to both me and Dig, and hell, the whole fight club. You can’t do that to Dig, and you can’t do that to Colin.”

  “So, what do you suggest we do?”

  “Fuck if I know.” Nanda laughed and was relieved when Junior cracked a smile. “I probably need to go back to the fight club, though. It’s secure, probably more secure than this place.”

  “There are no rooms at the fight club except for Tig’s place, and Dig took that over. Wait—did you stay in Dig’s rooms last night?”

  Here we go, Nanda.

  “Yeah. Um, yeah, I did. I mean, not in his room, but in the other bedroom.”

  Junior arched an eyebrow at her, and Nanda rolled her eyes. “He was a perfect gentleman, Junior. He made sure we got to the fight club and I got settled, and then he left me alone for the rest of the night.” But I didn’t leave him alone.

  “Hmph.”

  “ ‘Hmph’ yourself. I’m tired of talking about this. I want to talk about something that has absolutely nothing to do with me. How’s Manny? How’re his fighters? What’s going on with the New York thing?”

  Junior settled into the club chair and took a pull of his beer. He narrowed his eyes at his sister but didn’t push back on her insistence to change the subject. Instead, he filled her in on Manny, who was her former employer and the owner of the gym where Junior met Colin, and the fighters at the gym who were preparing for more fights now that MMA was legal in New York State again.

  “That all sounds good, Junior, real good.”

  “But?”

  She laughed lightly but then grew serious. “Are you staying here? After?”

  Junior shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Manny made you an offer, didn’t he?”

  “Maybe. Okay, yes.”

  “And Derek’s there.”

  Junior nodded but seemed to stall talking about Derek while he scratched his head. “Yeah, Derek’s there.”

  “I’m assuming things are good since you’re staying in the hotel with him and not at home in your trashed apartment.”

  Junior barked a laugh. “Yeah, we got cleared to go back to the apartment, but Johnny said he thought it would be good to stay away for a few days at least, especially on your part.”

  “Look at you, all chummy with a detective.”

  “He’s Ryan’s brother. I see him around at cookouts and stuff. And he was there when Bailey flipped out and beat the shit out of that psycho ex-girlfriend of Gordo’s after the expo match.”

  “I still would have paid anything to see that little mami let loose.” She laughed at the thought of Colin’s small, sweet wife beating someone up, but apparently, it had taken both Johnny and Junior to pull her off the other woman. “Speaking of Ryan, Junior . . .”

  Junior groaned. “I was wondering when you were going to bring him up.”

  “What the fuck is up with you two?”

  “Nothing, Sis. Nothing is up with us. We’re friends. I’ve been where he is, so I’m trying to support him as much as I can. But”—Junior held up a warning finger—“he’s not going to get better if he doesn’t put in some work as well.”

  “I worry about him.”

  “You worry about everyone, Nanda. You’re a Maldonado. That’s what we do.”

  Nanda laughed. That was the damn truth.

  “I do, though.”

  “I worry about him, too. Probably more than I should. At this point, he’s going to have to hit rock bottom, and it sucks. I can see it coming like a freight train barreling straight for him. All we can do as his friends is be there for him when he gets laid out.”

  “It’ll be hard to do if you’re in Jersey.”

  “It’ll be more difficult but not impossible. And anyway, I don’t know that I’ll stay in Jersey. I haven’t accepted the position with Manny.”

  “But it’s tempting.”

  Junior nodded. “Very.”

  “Would it be as tempting if Derek wasn’t there? Or if you had someone you were serious about down here?”

  “I’ve asked myself that same question.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Sounds like you have some things to think about.”

  “Yep. So, other than my apartment getting trashed by God knows who, what’s up with you?”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure I know who trashed your apartment.”

  Nanda proceeded to tell Junior about The Thug’s visit to the fight club, his vague threat against Junior, and the fact that he said he’d already caught up with Gene.

  “What is it, Junior? Why did you get that look on your face?” Nanda narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you know?”

  “I . . . might have run into Gene.” Though his words were tentative, Junior’s posture was all aggression.

  Nanda sucked in a breath. This was not good.

  Nanda knew that Junior had never liked Gene for some reason, even when he was a geeky preteen who followed Nanda around like a puppy. The eldest Maldonado sister, Marta, thought he was a harmless idiot, and the middle sister, Ines, told her he was a suck-up and not to be trusted.

  “And so you ‘ran into’ Gene, huh? With your fist? With the car?”

  Junior laughed quietly but just chewed on his lip.

  “Junior, exactly when did you run into Gene?”

  Junior chuckled and shook his head. “Manita, you have to understand, I was worried about you . . .”

  “When, Junior? It was before I came down here, wasn’t it?”

  He nodded. “I lucked into finding him at that go-go club the night after those guys came back into Manny’s place and tried to intimidate you.”

  “Was he okay?” Nanda’s voice was whisper quiet. “He’s not a bad guy, really.”

  “He was definitely spooked. No, actually he was scared shitless, as he fucking well should have been.” Junior continued shaking his head. “Goddammit, this is not how I wanted to tell you.”

  “Tell me what? Hmm?”

  Junior shook his head and mumbled something in Spanish that Nanda didn’t quite catch. Then he took another pull on his beer and told her what he’d learned from Gene—that he’d taken a drug lord’s black book to give it to his boss, but for some reason, had hidden it in Nanda’s apartment.

  Nanda closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against the lids. Oh, Gene, what did you get me involved in?

  “Do you know who he was working for, what he was doing?”

  Nanda shrugged a shoulder. “He did this and that, running errands and such.” Gene had told her that he was a personal assistant, but Nanda had been around enough to know that he most likely was a bagman.

  “For who, Nanda?”

  “Nick Sharkey.”

  “Sharkey? I don’t know that name.”

  Nanda sucked in air through her nose. “He’s no one, not really. Makes some book, runs some numbers. I don’t like him. He gives me the creeps. No sense of personal space.” Junior waited patiently for her to continue. “Sharkey was always going on and on about how he was going to take over the off-track betting from the Fiores, but I thought he was just running his mouth.”

  “Getting the black book would do it.”

  “Yeah, it would.” It’d also most likely get someone killed, too.

  “But he must have put two and two together, because Thuggy McThug showed up at the fight club.”

  “Yeah.” Junior exhaled and shook his head.
“Nanda, you sure you don’t have that book?”

  “Junior, I have absolutely no idea what or where it is. If I did, I’d give it right back to Fiore. Nothing’s worth that kind of bad.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I think I need to talk to Johnny.”

  “I agree. You want me to call him?”

  “Would you?”

  “Anything for you, Nanda. You know that.” He smiled and reached over to ruffle Nanda’s hair. “I know that look. There something else on your mind.”

  “You think that guy knows you’re back in Atlanta?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe not, since we didn’t come in on a commercial flight. Looks like C might have done us a solid without even knowing it. Why? What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. I’m worried that if Fiore or Sharkey or whoever knows that both of us are in one place . . .”

  Junior nodded in understanding. “And that’s why you’re sticking close to me or C or any of the fighters until we get this dealt with.”

  “Speaking of fighters, Dig and I—” Nanda began but Derek’s bursting into the room interrupted her planned confession.

  “Hector, babe, we have ninety minutes before I have to be back from dinner break, and all I’ve been able to think about is eating . . . shit.”

  Nanda wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

  Derek dipped his head toward Nanda. “I didn’t realize she was going to be here this early.”

  Nanda frowned. Fuck you, too, lover boy. “Hey, Derek.”

  “Sorry, that came out totally wrong, Fernanda. I feel like such an ass. I just . . .”

  Nanda waved him off. “I get it. I’m sorry that I’m intruding on your couple time.”

  Derek’s face fell. “Nanda . . .”

  “I’m wiped out. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night because of . . . Anyway, I’ll see you two later.”

  “Nanda, come to dinner with us at least.” Junior grabbed his sister’s hand as she got ready to leave the room.

  “Nah, I’m not hungry. I’m going to take advantage of that soaking bathtub.”

  “Nanda . . . you were getting ready to say something about Dig?”

 

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