by Carol Lynne
Dray stretched his arm across the back of the couch and brushed his fingertips across Lucky’s neck. “He’s been hiding shit. I don’t think he would’ve confessed if I hadn’t walked in on him gasping for air after one of his coughing spells.” He leaned in and kissed the spot he’d just touched. “I’m sorry, Lucky, but he’s failing.”
Lucky stared down at the kitten, needing something other than Brick to focus on. He pulled the bottle away, realizing it was empty and set it on the coffee table. “She’s a fighter,” he mumbled. He glanced at Dray. “Do you think it’d be wrong to name her Gatsby?”
“Why would it be wrong?” Dray asked.
“It’s a boy name.” Lucky wiped the kitten’s face with the towel. He lifted the sweet little thing to his face and rubbed his cheek against her soft black and white fur. “I want her to be happy with the name I give her.”
“Does the name Gatsby mean something to you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then how could she ask for more than that?” Dray petted the kitten’s side with the back of his index finger.
“Hey, Gatsby,” Lucky crooned. “I don’t really know how to take care of you, but I’ll figure it out.” He kissed Gatsby’s head. “Promise.”
Chapter Six
Out of the corner of his eye, Dray watched Brick scream last minute instructions to Lucky. The crowd was different from the fans in Indianapolis. In the dark and dirty warehouse Ray Bruno had secured for the tournament, the audience seemed to cheer more for the anti-hero. The place reeked of onions, which he knew from experience was body odor and whatever had died in the warehouse before the cage was constructed.
Worse, instead of hiring off-duty cops to handle the crowd, Bruno had gone cheap and pulled his own guys in. Stupid fuck. He overheard the man beside him talking on his cell phone.
“Yeah, give me two hundred on the Ice Man,” the man said. “That fucker’s gonna tear this place up!”
Dray’s gaze went back to Lucky, who was jumping in place, shadowboxing with a determination on his face that didn’t bode well for his opponent. It was obvious Lucky was pumped, and Dray knew the crowd had a lot to do with it. It was also obvious the Ice Man didn’t have fans in attendance—at least not ones who would openly cheer for him. He glanced at the pinhead beside him. Lucky may not have had the hearts of the crowd, but they definitely knew who was going to win.
Lucky climbed into the bright white cage. Unlike a lot of promoters, Bruno chose the color white specifically to showcase the crimson that would spill from the fighters throughout the tournament. By the time a winner was declared, the entire floor of the cage would be red with blood.
The bell rang and Lucky stepped up to his no-name opponent. The sonofabitch had been taunting Lucky for the last ten minutes. Lucky said something to his competitor and stood his ground.
Lucky threw a single punch, aimed at the asshole’s nose and the jerk who’d been full of himself only seconds earlier fell flat on his back, out cold.
“Yeah!” Dray cried, pumping his fist in the air. He turned to the pinhead. “That’s the way to do it!” he shouted in excitement.
Smiling from ear to ear, the pinhead retrieved the phone from his pocket and started dialing.
Dray leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. He couldn’t stop grinning as the referee lifted Lucky’s arm over his head. Lucky still had one more match before they could go home and Dray could show him just how proud he was.
Lucky stepped out of the cage and immediately went to Brick’s side. He wrapped an arm around the old man and disappeared into the crowd with Flint following. Dray waited, praying that Brick was okay. He dug out his phone and held it in his hand, waiting for a call.
Instead of a call, Flint appeared in front of Dray. “Lucky wants you. He’s in the locker room.”
Dray nodded, pulled his baseball cap lower on his forehead and followed Flint out of the main part of the building and down one of the darkened hallways. “Is it Brick?”
Flint shrugged. “I guess so. Brick keeps telling Lucky he’s fine, but Lucky keeps arguing the point.” He glanced over his shoulder at Dray. “I think they’re both wrong.”
“How’s that?” Dray asked as Flint stopped in front of a door.
“Brick’s the same as he was earlier today. Nothing’s changed. I think the real problem is Lucky. I think he’s so focused on Brick that he can’t concentrate on anything else. This last match wasn’t a big deal because the guy was a fucking joke, but the pretenders will be weeded out within the next two days.”
Dray took a deep breath. “Is this a shared room?”
Flint snorted. “It’s more like a closet, and, no. Lucky worked that into his deal with Bruno. He didn’t want anyone around if Brick had trouble.”
“Okay. Keep an eye on the door and don’t let anyone in,” Dray instructed. He entered the room to find Flint’s description accurate. There was room for three chairs, a small cooler, and Brick’s bag of supplies.
Brick and Lucky both looked up at him from their seated positions, but it was Brick who spoke. “Would you tell this wiseass that I’m perfectly capable of being out there?”
Before Dray answered, he took a moment to study the rise and fall of the old man’s chest. By the exaggerated breaths and tinge of blue on Brick’s lips, it was obvious he was having a hard time, but Flint had been right, Brick wasn’t any worse than he’d been before the fight. Dray put his hand on Brick’s shoulder. “Maybe Lucky wouldn’t be as worried if you’d calm the fuck down. He knows what he has to do, so you screaming at him, especially in your condition, isn’t doing either of you any good.”
Brick glowered up at Dray. “You telling me how to do my job now?”
Dray released his hold on Brick’s shoulder and held his hands up. “Don’t listen to me, and keep doing whatever the fuck you want, but don’t be surprised when you have to deal with Lucky and his mood after every goddamn fight.” He knew he sounded harsh, but so did Brick, and he’d learned from the best.
Dray swung his attention to Lucky. “Good drop on the asshole out there. Why don’t you do yourself a favor and keep your mind in the cage instead of worrying about Brick. I’m here. Flint’s here. Let us worry about Brick.”
Brick huffed and Lucky opened his mouth to argue, but Dray continued without giving him a chance. “You’ve got a whole fucking room of people out there who are just waiting for you to fall.”
Lucky stared up at Dray like he was crazy. “Did you not just see me take that fucker down with one punch?”
“Yeah, I saw it, but that asshole looked like a desk jockey who had five hundred bucks he wanted to piss away—not a trained fighter.” It wasn’t the whole truth, the guy did have a nice body, but nothing like Lucky’s. “Who’s next for you?”
“Depends on who wins the Braun vs Triple Threat fight,” Lucky replied.
“Triple Threat? Are you kidding?” Dray had fought Triple Threat nearly nine years earlier. “I can’t believe that fat bastard’s still around.”
“He doesn’t compete much anymore, mostly tournaments like this,” Lucky explained. “Still, he’s got nearly fifty pounds on me.”
“More, from what I remember.” Dray hooked his thumb to the door. “I’d better get back out there, but I’ll give you a piece of advice. If you go up against Triple Threat, he’s always had a weak chin.”
“I’ve already told him that,” Brick grumbled.
Dray looked at Lucky and Lucky gave a slight shake of his head, indicating Brick hadn’t said anything. “Okay, well, I’ll get outta here then.”
“Thanks for coming back,” Lucky said, before Dray could get out of the door.
Dray glanced back, wondering if Lucky meant back to town or back to the locker room. By the warmth in Lucky’s eyes, Dray understood it was both. “Sure thing.”
* * * *
Cuddled on the sofa with Lucky and Gatsby the following night, they were going over rough footage of the fight Flint had taken, when s
omeone knocked on the door. Dray glanced at Lucky. “You expecting company?”
Lucky pressed his lips against Dray’s neck before handing over the kitten. “Nope. I’ll get rid of them.” He stood and stepped over Dray’s legs to the door. “Briley,” he said in a surprised tone.
Dray looked over his shoulder to see a young woman standing in front of Lucky. He recognized the name as a friend Lucky had mentioned several times on the phone, but by the way Briley was smiling at Lucky, Dray guessed they were more than friends.
“What’s up?” Lucky asked.
Briley popped her head inside and spotted the kitten. “Oh my God,” she squealed, moving toward Gatsby.
Dray had two choices, hand the kitten over or allow Briley to grab Gatsby out of his lap. He chose the first option. “Her name’s Gatsby.”
“Gatsby?” Briley echoed and rolled her eyes before turning them on Lucky. “You and that dumb book.”
“It’s not a dumb book.” Lucky shut the door. He picked up his empty beer bottle off the table. “You want another?” he asked Dray.
Dray really didn’t, but he hoped accepting would let Briley know he wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon. He stared at Briley, who rubbed faces with the kitten. He hated to admit it but she was pretty, and not the kind of fake pretty which pissed him off even more. “Sure,” he finally told Lucky.
“You’re Dray?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
With Gatsby snuggled under her chin, Briley turned her attention to the TV. “This from last night?”
“Yeah,” Dray repeated as Lucky opened the refrigerator.
Briley waited for Lucky to come back into the room. “How’d you do?”
“Won both,” Lucky replied, handing Dray a beer. He took a seat on the sofa, although on the opposite end from Dray. “The first one was a piece of cake, but the second wasn’t as easy. Dray and I were just trying to figure out what went wrong.”
Briley glanced at the screen again. “You let him get you in a clench,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Dray hid his grin behind the mouth of his bottle. He’d tried to tell Lucky last night that Triple Threat almost beat him with the clench. As good a fighter as Lucky was, he sucked at the wrestling aspect when it happened.
“Shut up, Briley,” Lucky shot back.
Dray was surprised by the outburst, but even more so when Briley just laughed. Damn. Not only was the girl pretty but nice, too, and it was obvious she could hold her own with Lucky. Sonofabitch! Never in his life had Dray been jealous of a woman.
Briley swayed back and forth, holding Gatsby in her hands. “You’d better be nice or I’ll take this little honey home with me.”
“Over my dead body,” Lucky said, getting to his feet.
Briley smirked and nodded toward the television. “If you fight like that tomorrow night, taking your cat won’t be a problem.”
Lucky exhaled. “Did you come by just to torment me?”
“Oh shit! I forgot why I came over.” She handed Gatsby back to Dray. “I just saw Sid at Jerry’s Place. He’s really messed up, and he was starting to get mouthy.” She bit her plump bottom lip. “I thought you’d want to know.”
“Hell,” Lucky groaned. He closed his eyes and winced. “Yeah. I’d better go get him home.”
Briley gave Lucky a soft kiss on the lips. “You’re too good to him, and everyone knows it, including him.”
Lucky shrugged. “Sid’s always been there for me.”
“Yeah,” she said, moving to the door. “It was nice to meet you, Dray.”
“You, too,” Dray returned.
“Bye, doll.” She gave Lucky a wave before leaving the apartment.
“You want some help with Sid?” Dray asked. He settled Gatsby on the couch beside him before standing.
“You mind? Depending on how bad he is, it might not be easy getting him out of there.”
“I don’t mind.” Dray grabbed his coat and pulled it on as Lucky tied his shoes. He knew Brick believed Sid was pulling Lucky down, so he wanted to see for himself what kind of bullshit Sid was involved in. He held out Lucky’s coat and waited for him to put it on before wrapping his arms around Lucky’s waist. Although it wasn’t the time, he couldn’t help but wonder who Briley was to Lucky. “Is she your girlfriend?”
Lucky’s eyebrows drew together. “Briley?”
For some reason Lucky’s response made Dray angry. “Who the hell do you think I’m talking about?”
Lucky broke eye contact. “She’s a friend.”
Dray could tell by the way the two interacted that Lucky had told the truth, but he also knew there was more to it, and the green-eyed monster was ready for a fight. “Do you fuck her?”
“God, Dray. Do I ask you about all the guys you fuck?” Lucky shot back.
“I barely remember the men I fuck,” he replied, putting emphasis on the word men. “I certainly don’t consider them friends.”
Lucky poked Dray in the chest. “You’re the one who told me to bury who I am.”
Yeah, I did do that. Dray took a step back. “Let’s go get Sid.”
Lucky didn’t move. “I get lonely sometimes and when I do, I usually call Briley,” he confessed.
Dray knew all about loneliness. Guilt filled him. He had no right to make Lucky feel bad about seeking solace in someone else, but he couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice when he said, “I’m here for now, so there’s no reason for you to call her. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Lucky nodded. “How long are you going to be here? Have you decided whether or not you’re going to help me with The Brick Yard after…?”
“Hiding hasn’t been my way for a long time and to be honest, I’m not sure how long I can do it.”
“I understand.” Lucky zipped his coat. “Let’s go.”
* * * *
Lucky entered Jerry’s Place, a small neighborhood dive bar, and scanned the room. Sid was by the old-fashioned jukebox talking to Jimmy Black, a known dealer. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, I see him,” Dray said from behind.
Lucky glanced over his shoulder. “You know who that is?”
“His name? No. What they’re doing? Hell yes.”
“Wait here,” Lucky said before making his way across the bar. He stopped several feet away from Sid. Jimmy was a paranoid asshole who wouldn’t think twice about pulling a knife if he felt cornered. Lucky waited for Sid and Jimmy to look his way. He nodded once. “Jimmy.”
Jimmy sniffed and rubbed his nose. “You want something?”
“No, I need to talk to Sid,” Lucky replied.
“Oh?” Sid let out a harsh bark of laughter. “I’ve left you three fucking messages in the past week, and you haven’t bothered to pick up the damn phone.”
“I’m here now.” Lucky rested his hands on his hips and stared at Sid, willing his friend to send the dealer away. He could tell by the blown pupils in Sid’s eyes that he’d already sampled quite a bit of Jimmy’s product. Briley had been right to worry. “Sid.”
With an exaggerated sigh, Sid looked at Jimmy. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Yeah, whatever, man.” Jimmy quirked his lip at Lucky before walking away.
Once Jimmy had left, Lucky stepped closer to his friend. He knew from experience that he couldn’t push Sid, so he tried a different route. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you back. This shit with Brick and the tournament has really been fucking with my head.”
“You sure it doesn’t have something to do with the tattooed fag over there? What’s he doing back anyway?” Sid asked.
Lucky curled his hands into tight fists. Sid had never liked Dray, but the harsh criticism was out of line. “Dray’s here to help me with Brick and the gym.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is?”
“Sid.” Lucky moved until he was within striking distance. He’d never given Sid a reason to question his sexuality, so he wasn’t sure what the fuck his friend
was talking about.
Sid held up his hands in mock surrender. “Just seems off that he shows up and you forget about everyone else.”
“That’s not true. I’ve seen Briley, and I’ve spent most of my time at the gym, preparing for the tournament.” Lucky hated the half-truth, but protecting what he had with Dray was worth it.
“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I need some cash, so I thought you could give me some inside scoop on the fighters.”
Lucky knew exactly what Sid needed money for, and he wasn’t about to give him the information he wanted. As he stared at his friend, his heart sank. When they’d been teenagers, they’d both smoked pot on occasion. Well, Sid had smoked more than occasionally, but it hadn’t been a problem. Things hadn’t started going bad until Sid had dropped out of high school two months before graduation and had gone to work at a chicken processing plant. Lucky still couldn’t put his finger on it, but Sid had changed since then. Maybe it had something to do with the men Sid hung out with at work or the escalation of his drug use from pot to the harder, more expensive shit he used almost daily.
“If you need cash, the last thing you should be doing is gambling.”
“You asshole!” Sid yelled. “After all I’ve done for you, I’m just asking for a fucking favor.”
“No, you’re asking me to help you buy drugs, and I’m not gonna do that!” Lucky shouted back. He sobered when he noticed several people turn toward them. He took a deep breath. “I hate to see you like this, and it kills me to know you won’t let me help you.”
“I don’t need your help,” Sid growled. “What I need is for you to stop treating me like you’re so much better than I am. Newsflash, your mom’s a fucking meth-head whore.”
Lucky wrapped his hand around Sid’s scrawny neck and slammed him against the wall. “This has nothing to do with my mom,” he ground out between clenched jaws.