by Emilia Finn
I grin. “It’s my understanding you pay your current winners five hundred thousand dollars at the end of a tournament. Six divisions, six winners.”
“We pay them seven-fifty now. We can afford to do that, because we continue to build our empire.” She tilts her head to the side, and doesn’t stop until her neck cracks. “We continue to build, we continue to kick ass.”
“What if Monaco doubled it?”
Her eyes bulge, and because I didn’t expect I’d win her over so easily, I smile and open my folder. “Monaco will pay four-point-five million dollars a year, in exchange for a little ad space and maybe a fast clip of you saying you drive using our tires or something.”
“I do drive with Monaco tires,” she whispers. “That’s actually true.”
I laugh. “Then this will be easy. You get to sweeten the prize money, thus drawing more fighters in, more ticket sales, more subscription packages, and because your empire continues to grow, the audience that gets to hear about you and our tires grows. It’s mutually beneficial. And like you said, you already drive with Monaco.”
I extend a hand, and wait for her to take it; blood and all. “Give me an hour of your time, let’s nail down the details, and then we can celebrate a lucrative partnership.”
It takes thirty minutes, two phone calls, two new additions to our meeting – Kit Kincaid, who just so happens to be Bobby’s wife and, god help me, Bryan’s mother, and Sophia Solomon… she’s a dancer. I don’t quite understand her role in this meeting, but I don’t really give a damn, because I have signatures, a promotional deal, a lifetime membership at the Rollin On Gym, and the perfect in with the gym and the family who owns it.
Bryan
Well, Shit
I kill the music playing through the room, and work on undoing Lyss’ now-scuffed gloves. It’s just a tiny scratch, but it’s a start, and the very first of a million more she’ll collect in the next few years.
“How do you feel, baby? You tired?”
“I’m hungry.” She drops her first free hand to her belly and rubs. “Can we go to Dixie’s now?”
I purse my lips and work on the second glove. “First of all, Dixie’s isn’t a place for hungry. It’s a place for dessert. If you’re hungry, then Uncle will get you some grilled chicken and salad.”
She pouts. Like, massive bottom lip dropped so far out that I see her gums. “I’d really like some sorbet, Uncle Bry.”
I chuckle and toss her second glove against the wall. “So you should have asked for ice cream. Don’t come at me with your lies about being starving.”
“Calling someone a liar is bad,” she shoots back. “It’s mean.”
“Only if it’s not true,” I toss straight back. “Would you like to go out for sorbet, Alyssa?”
She wraps her arm around my hips as we leave the training room and head along the hall. “Yes please. I’ve been thinking about the strawberry swirl all day.”
“I’ll call your daddy first, just to let him know where we’re going, but then after that—”
I come to a skidding stop at the gym kitchen, and feel my heart stumble. “Madilyn?”
Skirt suit, grabbable fucking ass outlined in peach-colored fabric, high heels that give her a few extra inches, just like last night, and hair tied back in a neat ponytail, she spins at my word, throws a hand over her heart, and grabs at the table when she nearly topples in those heels. “Bryan! Oh my…” Her gaze shoots back around to my stunned family, then back to me. “Oh, damn.”
“Bryan?” Evie watches Madilyn with narrowed eyes, with firmed lips, and when she gets no answers, she slowly stands from her seat and flexes her fists. “Madilyn? You know my cousin?”
“I…” She’s panicking. Eyes wide, pale-faced panicking. “He… uh…”
Evie’s eyes snap to mine. “Bry?”
“She kicked me in the balls last night. Knocked me on my ass. Thought she hurt my feelings.” I grin when her cheeks turn paler. “Then she walked home in the dark when her boyfriend lost his car.” I look to Evie. “Ouch.”
“You kicked him in the balls?” Evie snaps.
“I mean—”
Evie is a scary chick. She’s loyal, she’s trigger-happy, and she’s not inclined to apologize, but my mom is a whole other bag of cannons.
She thrusts up from her seat so fast the entire bench scrapes back on the floor, then she reaches up to tie her hair back.
Aw fuck.
Everyone scrambles away when she snaps the elastic from her wrist and wraps it around her hair. When Kit Kincaid is going to fight, you move the fuck aside.
But despite Madilyn’s pee-in-her-pants fear, I’m the recipient of my mother’s scorn.
“You were at Piper’s Lane, Bryan Kincaid?” She rushes around the table, blows past Madilyn, and slams her fists to my chest so hard that the oxygen leaves my body. “Racing?” she snaps. “Are you serious right now?”
Lyss squeaks. “Daddy?”
“Come here, baby.” Ben steps around me and Mom, and scoops our niece up before she completely loses her shit. “Let’s give Miss Kincaid space to blow her lid.”
“You said you don’t race anymore!” Mom screeches. “You’re a liar!”
“I said…” I swallow. “Uh…”
“It’s not mean if it’s true,” Lyss unhelpfully adds.
“I just go out there for fun, Mom. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal! People die racing cars, Bry. They die!”
“Nobody has died at Piper’s Lane since…” I search for the information. “Ever! Mom, it’s a dirt track. Nobody dies. They just get dizzy from driving in circles.”
She smacks me a second time, because I guess child abuse is allowed now. “And when someone driving at a hundred miles an hour gets dizzy?” she demands. “What of the people he hits because he didn’t stay home and listen to his mother?”
“You’re overreacting,” I snap. “You’re being crazy.”
“Oh shit,” Mac hollers. “Duck!”
“I’m overreacting?” Mom seethes. “Really, Bryan? I’m overreacting?”
“I think I might…” Madilyn collects her papers, her folders, her purse, and tries her damned best to sneak out while my mother publicly berates me. “We’ll talk, Evie.” She lifts a hand and presses her fingers to her ear and mouth. “I’ll call you.”
“Nope.” I spin away from the Kincaid crazy and snag Madilyn’s arm in a tight fist, then I swing her back until she slams against my body, and her breath explodes out on a gasp.
Heels or not, she still has to look up at me. My turf or not, she still juts that proud chin out and dares me to react.
“Why are you inside my gym? And give my fucking hat back.”
“I’m here for business. And not until you give Jackson’s car back.”
“You took somebody’s car?” Mom shrieks. “Bryan!”
“It’s Jackson Price’s car, and he’s a little bitch anyway. He gets nothing from me.”
Finally, my mom’s rage simmers. “Jackson Price?” she growls. “He deserves a kick in the balls, if anyone ever did.”
“What?” Madilyn spins and commits suicide when she squares up to my mom. “Jackson is my friend, and I have it on good authority your son bullied him all the way through school.”
“Ha!” Evie bursts out on a fast laugh. “Jackson Price was the prick that wanted Bry’s attention so bad that he’d snivel and sneak. He hit on anyone with the last name Kincaid.” She pokes a thumb back at herself. “Including me.”
Ben’s eyes whip to his fiancée. “What?”
She nods. “He tried one after the other until he finally lucked out with Brooke. She’s always in her own world, always minding her business, so she hadn’t gotten the memo yet that he’s a sniveling prick. She said yes to a date, and he sent her home with tears in her eyes.”
Lyss jolts in Ben’s arms. “What?”
“Jackson Price is a sweet man,” Madilyn volleys back, because she likes being
in the fire, I guess. “He’s always been sweet to me, he’s fiercely protective of his sister. Which is why he hates you.” She pokes my chest. A poke. An actual poke, instead of the oxygen-stealing thump my mom gave me. “This guy you all think is so sweet did something horrible to Jackson’s sister, humiliated her, sent her home, and ruined a relationship in the process.”
Mom’s eyes fly to me.
“That’s all hearsay!” I argue. “And it was after he messed with Brooke.”
“Hearsay?” Madilyn questions. “He wrote his name on her body and sent her home to her fiancé!”
“Oh shit.” Sophia sits on the table they were using for their meeting, tears open a Snickers bar, and nods. “Tell me more.”
“It was lipstick!” I bellow. “It didn’t leave any permanent damage.”
“Except a broken engagement!” She moves past poking and heads straight into shoving. “You broke up an engagement, Bryan!”
“To be fair,” Mac ponders. “If she was an honorable woman, she wouldn’t have lent Bry her lipstick.”
Bean buries her face against Mac’s chest and hides her laugh.
“That’s why you’re pissed at me?” I ask. “That’s why you kicked me in the nuts? Because your boyfriend’s sister’s engagement ended? Seriously?”
Evie scowls. “Jackson Price is your boyfriend?” She turns to Sophia. “Is there a cooling-off period in that contract? Because I’m not feeling good about her decision-making anymore.”
“My relationships have nothing to do with business!” Madilyn snaps. “We have a contract, we have an agreement, and it was fine until he,” another poke, “decided to come in here and shove his nose into our business.”
“This is my family’s gym, Princess. If there’s a meeting being held here, then it’s my business.”
“I was meeting with Stacked Deck,” she seethes. “Not the Kincaids as a whole.”
“Aw shit, Maddi.” I scrunch my nose. “Too bad I own shares in that tournament.” I look to Sophia. “Confirm?”
The ballerina nods. “He paid his dollar. He has shares.”
I turn back to Madilyn. “Whatever business deal you just made; that includes me. I trust my family to make good business decisions, so they didn’t have to consult with me to sign, but I’m sure as hell gonna enjoy the shit out of our next board meeting when they tell me how – contractually – you’re connected to me now.”
She spins to Evie and snarls. “You didn’t mention there were others who owned Stacked Deck.”
“You didn’t tell us that you’re Jackson Price’s girlfriend! Seems we both forgot to mention these pesky little details.”
Madilyn growls. She lets out an actual huffing growl that ends on a squeak, before spinning on her heels and snapping her arm from my grasp. “We have an agreement,” she says to Evie. “And personal business never has to come into this. What I do in my private time has nothing to do with Monaco or Stacked Deck.”
“It does if you make our brand look bad,” Evie tosses back. “I assure you, the moment you or Monaco harm Stacked Deck in any way, our legal team will be all over it. We’ll take your four-point-five mil, we’ll take a hell of a lot more than that, and then you’ll be out of a job. Stacked Deck is family, and around here, we’re very protective of family.” She looks to me. Then back to Madilyn. “Kick my cousin in the balls, have at it—”
“Hey!”
“He can protect himself,” she continues. “He’s a big boy. But defending Jackson Price when we were all witness to Brooke’s humiliation is a bad move. My cousin is sweet, she doesn’t hurt anybody, and she was too trusting of a douchebag that took her out to dinner. Now he knows what happens when you fuck with a Kincaid. You don’t want any of that heat, Madilyn. Make good choices.”
With a huff, Madilyn storms out of the room amid clicking heels and pissed-off grunts. And when I turn back to my family, I’m faced with a bunch of shocked expressions.
I look to Ben. “You got Lyss for a sec?”
He nods. “I got her.”
“Good.” I spin out of the room and sprint along the hallway.
Madilyn’s heels no longer click along concrete, which means she’s either stepped onto rubber mat, or outside. Since I doubt she’d ever lower herself to work out in a sweaty hotbox, I race through reception and into the sun outside.
Iowa and Brooke pull up in my Camaro and park right beside the Audi that Madilyn hurries toward. Sensing my anger, Iowa shoots out of the car like a whip. He’s conditioned to bad news. Always.
“What’s wrong? Where is she?”
I blow past him. “She’s completely fine. She’s inside with Ben.” I look to Brooke as she climbs out of my car. “Go inside.”
“Bry?” She studies me. Then Madilyn. The Audi. “What’s going o—”
“Go inside, Brooklyn!”
I storm straight past her to the shiny, black luxury car, then I grab Madilyn’s arm a mere second before she slides in.
I spin her back out, and slam her against the car frame so her back molds to the shape of the car, and her eyes widen with panic as I lean in close and snarl, “Why are you here?”
“I… uh…”
I’ve terrified her. “You wanna bitch me out at the tracks, that’s fine. You wanna listen to rumors and gossip, you wanna listen to your pouty fucking boyfriend whine about how much of a prick I am, if you wanna believe him when you have absolutely no proof, then I’m not gonna stop you. But coming to my gym is crossing a fucking line.”
“I’m here for business.”
“You have no business with my family! You have no right to fuck with my family.”
“I’m not fucking with anyone!” she argues back. But her eyes, tawny, innocent, and beautiful, flash with guilt. “I’m here for work, and trust me, when I didn’t see your car in the lot, I was happy.”
“You tried to sneak in, literally the day after we met. That’s not business. That’s you trying to be a sneak bitch.”
Her eyes spark with temper. And maybe a little hurt.
“You and I can go a million rounds,” I seethe. “I’m young and have energy for days. If you wanna fling your drama at me, then I’m here to play. If you wanna send Jackson my way, then fuck knows I take pleasure in hurting him. I’ll play,” I nod. “I’ll fuckin’ play with you both. I’ll take pleasure in making you both cry, just like he made my sister cry. But coming to my family is not fucking okay!”
“I heard your sister is a stuck-up bitch.” Her words are a whisper. But a dare. “I heard she said yes to everything he was offering. Then was butt-hurt when he sent her home.”
My fist clenches. Opens. Closes. “My sister is a fucking angel. She’s the woman that was literally here two seconds ago. Yeah.” I nod when her eyes widen. “You didn’t even know that was her, because you don’t know her. Brooklyn isn’t perfect, no one is. But she’s caring. She’s kind. And she has a tendency to search for the best in everybody. So even though she would have heard me bitch about Jackson a billion times, she’d have been determined to be kind to him. He knew that, he got her alone. And then he sent her home crying, all because he was pissed at me.”
“You mean like what you did to Jackson’s sister?” She straightens her spine, swallows, and meets me glare for glare. “You figured you’d do the same, trick his caring sister, his kind sister, into a night of debauchery, then send her home to face a broken engagement?”
“If she was in love with her fiancé, then she wouldn’t have given me a second look.”
“You didn’t even want her!” she snaps. “You just wanted revenge. You used Jenna, just like he used Brooke. How are your actions any better than his?”
“They’re not,” I growl out on a low timbre. “My actions were no better. But that doesn’t mean he gets a free pass. Jackson had a problem with me, which means he should have dealt with me. He took it to my family, and now we know how far I’ll go to protect my family.”
I press a hand to her chest, and push he
r back until she has no choice but to fold against the car. “Think about that, Madilyn. If you wanna have beef, then we can go a few rounds. I’ll fight fair. But now you’ve brought it to my family. Think about what that means for you, your safety, and your mental health. Because I don’t stop. I won’t stop. I will die to protect my family.”
The moment I step back inside my gym, I snatch Lyss from Brooke’s arms and bring her to my chest.
She’s a big girl, way too big to be lifted and carried around, but I do it anyway. I’ll do it when she’s ten, if she lets me. And when she’s twenty, she’ll still be small enough that I’ll pull her to me rather than let her be hurt by men the way Jackson hurt Brooke…
And the way I hurt Jenna Price.
“Are you okay?” she whispers. She pulls back, and works to cup my face. “Uncle Bry?”
I nod. “I’m sorry if I scared you, baby. Uncle is sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She grins. “I wasn’t scared. You were mad, huh?”
“Little bit.”
Behind her, I catch my mom’s fiery gaze. Her flexing fists. And because I’m going to die today, I place one last kiss on my niece’s cheek and set her on her feet.
The second I release her, I incline my head. Shame. Pure shame.
“Mom… I’m sorry for speaking to you that w—”
I expect a blow. I expect to be knocked on my ass. But what I don’t expect is for her to run at me and wrap her arms around my stomach so tight that I might pop.
She presses her face to my chest, buries her face against my sweaty shirt.
Then her breath hitches.
“Oh god. Mom?” Tears rush to my eyes. Because when Kit Kincaid cries, the whole world is dying. “Please don’t cry, Mom. I’m sorry.” I brush her hair back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cuss at you.”
“I don’t care that you cussed, stupid.” She squeezes me tighter. Tighter. Tighter. “Baby, I just…” She shakes her head.
“Mom?”
She pulls back. “You race?” Bright blue Reilly eyes study me with tears sparkling in them. My mom was a Reilly; they came with blue eyes and a single dimple. I’m pure Kincaid; dark hair, dark eyes, dark, dark, dark. But those blue eyes, they’re heartbroken now as they look into mine. “Baby, that’s dangerous. Have you learned nothing? You don’t understand the curse on this family when it comes to cars?”