Fighting Dirty

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Fighting Dirty Page 19

by Lori Foster


  Since he’d given her a key, Merissa had done her utmost to show him how important he was to her. She loved having sex with him. Armie wasn’t crude, but he was up-front and very plainspoken about what he wanted, what he liked, how he liked it.

  How often he wanted it.

  She also loved sleeping with him, being held against his solid body, carved with muscle and always so warm. Thinking about snuggling up to his chest, how his chest hair felt on her cheek, how indescribably delicious he always smelled, sent a curl of sizzling sensation from her heart downward, until she shifted on the car seat.

  Most of all, she loved Armie’s playful nature. Around her he’d always been so cautious that she hadn’t realized exactly how the other women had seen him. He had a wicked sense of humor, an intimate way of teasing and a genuine caring about him that melted her bones, turned her on and softened her heart.

  Now that he’d opened up, now that she experienced his warmth every day, she couldn’t imagine ever giving that up.

  Despite all he’d endured, despite how his mother had abandoned him and how his father had turned on him, Armie was beyond special.

  It amazed her that the other women hadn’t fallen madly in love with him. Denver, Stack, Gage—they were all awesome. Really terrific guys. And sure, as ripped fighters, they were total eye candy.

  But they weren’t Armie.

  Pulling into a shopping lot and turning around, Merissa decided to go to her house to grab a few more things. Little by little, she’d set herself up at Armie’s apartment—which, okay, didn’t make sense.

  If anything, he should move in with her. Her house was a lot more spacious than his apartment, and far more private.

  Except that when she’d been at home, everyone had forever dropped in. She’d loved that.

  She missed that.

  Maybe Armie would soon stop keeping their relationship secret and instead would let her shout it to the world. She’d give him a little more time before bringing it up.

  The sun sank in the sky, turning the horizon shades of gold, mauve and purple by the time she pulled into her driveway. With the weather so mild, the air fresh, she breathed deeply as she left her car and started up the walkway to the front door.

  A lazy breeze stirred the air—and suddenly she felt edgy.

  Ridiculous. Her house was totally secure; Cannon had seen to that. Looking around, Merissa tried to find the source of her disquiet, but she saw only the usual porch lights on her neighbors’ houses and a few cars parked at the curb. Nothing out of the ordinary. Somewhere in the distance, kids laughed. A few doors down, headlights cut through the dusk as a neighbor pulled into his driveway.

  For reasons she didn’t understand, the unease amplified. Retrieving her key and, feeling ridiculously jumpy, Merissa unlocked the door and stepped in.

  Damn, why hadn’t she left a few lights on? She hit the wall switch, blinked at the sudden blinding glare and quickly hit the keypad to keep her alarms from going off.

  New alertness made her pulse race.

  Standing in the foyer of her bi-level home, she looked up the short stairs to the kitchen, then down to the living area below. Cherry used to be there, and now more than ever she missed her best friend.

  “Stop being a goof.” Going up the steps she hit more light switches until her house glowed. With the bathroom door locked she showered, changed into jeggings and a roomy sweatshirt, then braided her hair. She’d see Armie soon, but she didn’t bother putting on more makeup. He’d now seen her fresh from her shower, heck, in the shower, as well as when she’d first awakened.

  It hadn’t run him off yet, and honestly, she didn’t want to linger in the empty house. Never before had that bothered her, but she’d gone from the robbery to mostly staying with Armie. Now every shadow looked sinister and every creak sounded ominous.

  After gathering up a fresh change of clothes for tomorrow, along with a few food items from her cabinets, Merissa turned to start down the stairs.

  She froze at a particularly loud noise in the downstairs living area.

  A second later, the alarm went off, indicating an intruder.

  Her heart shot into her throat.

  * * *

  IMPATIENT, ARMIE RESTED his wrist over the steering wheel and looked toward Carter. It was stuffy in the truck, but when he’d started to put the window down, Carter had asked that he not.

  “Okay, I give. What are we doing?” Armie asked.

  Carter hedged, looking around the area, ensuring they were alone.

  Huh. “You planning to murder me, Chaos? Pondering how to get my dead body from here to wherever you hope to dump me?”

  Not amused, Carter said, “No.”

  “Then how about you tell me what you want? I have better things I could be doing right now.” Like checking on an unhappy, possibly mistreated kid, followed by sexing up the sweet sister to his best friend.

  Shit. Armie concentrated on Carter. “Say it or get out.”

  “You know I’ve got a big interview with a sports channel?”

  “No. Why would I?” For some reason, his mood deteriorated by the moment. “I don’t follow your schedule.”

  Chaos glared at him. “Look, you’re being a prick for no reason. I’m not here to cause problems. Just the opposite.”

  Yeah, Armie knew he was antagonistic and he didn’t know why. “Fine. Just get to it, will you?”

  “I have a big interview. Really big. More high profile than I’ve ever had before. That’s because of you, by the way.”

  “Not my doing.”

  “I realize that. And I honestly think I’ll beat you.”

  “Okay.” Armie didn’t give a damn what he thought. “So?”

  “Soon as the big interview was announced, I got this anonymous tip that while I’m doing the usual trash talk, I should also mention...something else.”

  Dread stirred in his guts. To hide that reaction, Armie crossed his arms and waited.

  Uncomfortable, Carter rubbed the back of his neck. “Fuck it.” He lifted a hip to dig a note from his back pocket. With only a slight hesitation, he handed it to Armie.

  Armie knew. He didn’t have to read the note, but he did anyway. Unfolding the wrinkled paper and holding it up to an interior lamp, he read aloud,

  “You want to win even before you get in the cage? Then tell the media about Jacobson’s past—as a rapist.”

  One hand braced on the dash, Carter leaned forward. “I don’t know who wrote it. But I hate fucking cowards who skulk around—”

  “I’m not a coward,” Armie said with a low, lethal edge.

  “Not you, you ass.” Carter nodded at the note. “The anonymous fuck who left that on my windshield.”

  On his windshield—where anyone might have seen it.

  There was a day when Armie would have told Carter to fuck off, to believe whatever he wanted, and then he would have walked away. But damn it, those days were in the past. He wouldn’t run from this.

  He was sick to death of running, of dodging trouble.

  Of letting the cowards win.

  So he looked Carter in the eyes and said, “It’s not true.”

  “I figured if it was, you’d be in jail, right?” With it out in the open now, Carter sat back and relaxed. “Besides, I asked around about you as soon as I knew we were fighting. I heard a lot of stuff, including admiration and respect from the men, and a lot of sick swooning from the women.”

  The side of Armie’s mouth kicked up, but mostly with irony and no real humor behind it.

  “I haven’t shown it to anyone else,” Carter assured him. “But if you want some advice—”

  “I don’t.”

  “—I think you should show it to the powers-that-be in the SBC. They won’t want to be blindsided by this.”

  So Carter planned to mention it in his interview?

  Armie no sooner thought that than Carter clarified.

  “When I don’t bite, they’re going to reach out again.” Solemn,
he shook his head in regret. “Eventually some knucklehead is going to take that garbage and run with it.”

  Eyeing the opponent he knew only by his record, Armie felt indebted. “You’re not going to say anything?”

  “I want a clean fight, not one clouded by idiotic accusations that can’t be proved. The thing is, if I thought it had any merit, if I’d gotten even a clue that you’d ever mistreated a woman, I’d take a lot of pleasure in trashing you. Hell, I’d enjoy taking you apart.”

  Easier said than done, but Armie knew when to keep his ego to himself. “I’d feel exactly the same.” He held out a hand. “Thanks for...” He searched for the right words.

  “For not being easily duped?” Carter took his hand. “My pleasure.” Then he smiled. “And I’m still going to beat you in the cage.”

  It was a hell of a situation, but Armie laughed anyway. Carter was such a fair guy, he almost hated to disappoint him.

  But when they fought, he’d be the winner—no doubts at all.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  TRYING NOT TO be too obvious, Merissa stuck close to the very nice officer who’d shown up to look things over for her.

  For the tenth time, Officer Mead asked, “You’re sure you’re okay now?”

  Given she continued to play his shadow, she could understand his uncertainty.

  She forced a smile. “Yes. Thank you again. I’m so sorry I overreacted like that.”

  “You didn’t,” he assured her. “It’s always better to be safe.”

  Safe—but not hysterical.

  Her face burned anew even as her imagination stayed in hyperdrive. First the robbery, then that near miss with a speeding car and now this.

  She was sure of the sound she’d heard—and maybe she’d even seen a shadow. That could have been fear playing tricks with her eyes... But what if it wasn’t?

  Something had triggered the alarm.

  Had she become a target, or was she just being paranoid?

  She’d never been paranoid before.

  The shrill alarm had so badly startled her that a vague darkness had crept in around her. She’d come very close to fainting.

  Luckily, at the last second the fog had receded, but then she’d gone straight into panic mode. After ungluing her feet from the stairs, she’d raced like a lunatic into her bedroom where she’d locked the door, grabbed the phone and crouched on the other side of her bed.

  The second the monitoring station called, she’d replied that yes, she absolutely needed help, and she was pretty sure she’d sounded out of control.

  The security tech promised to send a cop and had put the call through for her. Minutes later the very nice officer had arrived, and it had taken all her willpower to stop cowering in her bedroom and to go to the front door and let him in.

  He certainly hadn’t been spooked. After she’d shut off the alarm system, he’d gone downstairs—with her trailing close because no way in hell was she waiting behind—and he’d found all the windows and the door to the walkout closed and locked.

  Next she’d followed him upstairs, where he’d not only inspected every room, he’d even looked in closets and under the beds.

  Still he’d found nothing.

  That had led him outside to poke around, again, with her dogging his heels, and finally he’d deduced it could only have been a critter that got in through the attic because every door and window remained secure.

  “That could set off the alarm?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe talk to your security company about it.” Going sympathetic, he asked, “Do you have someone you can invite over tonight? You probably shouldn’t be alone.”

  No kidding. “I was just heading out,” she promised him. But the way he watched her made her lift her chin. “I’m not usually this jumpy. I’ve lived on my own for a while, actually. Sure, I used to have a roommate, but...” Drawing to a halt, she sighed. “You know about the recent bank robbery, right?”

  “A month or so ago?”

  “Yes. That was me.”

  His mouth quirked. “A confession? You’re saying you robbed the place?”

  “No!” She realized he was teasing and relaxed again. “I’m the manager there.”

  “Well then, no wonder you’re a little nervous.”

  “Right?” She didn’t tell him about her near miss in the roadway. Until now, she’d assumed her own negligence had almost caused the accident because she hadn’t been paying attention. But now... She’d had one near miss too many for her to entirely dismiss the idea that someone was after her.

  Relieved that she hadn’t called her brother—or worse, Armie—Merissa walked with Officer Mead out to her car. “So...you won’t tell anyone how I totally lost it, will you?”

  “You did all the right things,” he promised her. “And yeah, I’ll probably need to share the incident with Detective Riske since he’s working the bank robbery. But I’ll only give him details, same as I’ll write in my report.”

  “Thank you.” By the time Logan Riske asked her questions, she’d be composed enough not to embarrass herself. And of course, she’d tell Cannon and Armie. If she was in danger, they needed to know.

  Realistically she knew neither of them would judge her, but that didn’t seem to matter to her pride. Sometimes having a certified badass as a brother, and now being intimately involved with one, had its drawbacks. Comparisons could suck.

  “How about I wait until you’re out of the driveway,” Officer Mead offered. “Once you’re on your way, then I’ll take off.”

  Such a kind man. Gratitude engulfed her. “I would very much appreciate that.”

  “Protect and serve, ma’am.” His smile warmed to an intimate degree.

  Was he flirting? It certainly seemed so.

  If she wasn’t already madly in love with Armie, she’d have gladly flirted back, but instead she said, “I’ve held you up long enough. Really, you’ve been wonderful. I don’t know what I would have done without you, so again, thank you.” And with that, she got in her car and secured the doors. Finally she was able to take a deep breath.

  With the handsome young officer watching her, she waved, then backed out and drove away. Thinking it’d be better to get it out of the way, she tried to decide who to call first—her brother or Armie. She’d just decided on calling Armie when her phone rang, startling her. With a glance at the screen she saw it was Cherry.

  As soon as she answered, she heard a lot of boisterous laughter and knew the ladies had gotten together. “Having a party without me?” she asked her best friend.

  “Rissy! Where are you?”

  Wondering at that, Merissa explained, “I just left my house and I’m heading to Armie’s.”

  “Scrap that. Come join us instead.”

  Vanity chimed in, saying, “We’re all here and just waiting on you.”

  “All who?” Merissa asked.

  “Me,” Yvette sang out, followed by Harper’s, “Me, too!”

  “Guess what we’re doing,” Cherry whispered, followed by gales of laughter from the others.

  “Drinking?” she guessed.

  “Not a drop.” Then in a rush, Cherry said, “We’re at the porn store. You know, that seedy little place in town that sells DVDs and God-only-knows what else.”

  No way. “Why?”

  “We’re going shopping,” Vanity told her.

  Shopping for porn? Merissa laughed nervously. “You’re making that up.”

  “Nope,” Yvette said. “And just so you know, I busted Armie shopping here once. I thought it was still just a place that rented DVDs.”

  The other women started heckling Yvette, and Merissa heard Vanity say, “Yeah, uh-huh, sure you did.”

  “Hey, I’d just returned to the area!” Yvette insisted. “I didn’t have cable set up yet, so I figured to get an old movie. I had no way of knowing things had changed so much.”

  “The fun part,” Vanity interrupted her to say, “is that she ran into Armie, and he admitted he s
hops there often.”

  Often? Merissa hadn’t seen any porn around his apartment, but then, she hadn’t snooped. There were a lot of drawers that remained a mystery to her. “What did he buy?” she asked in a whisper of her own.

  Cracking up, Vanity said, “Meet us at the shop and we’ll all go inside to see.”

  Oh, she wanted to. Curiosity killed her, but she’d never had the nerve to do more than glance toward the shop whenever she went past.

  “You have time,” Cherry said, reclaiming her phone while the buzz of conversation drifted in. “Denver called me to say he’d be late because Armie would be late. Something about that guy Armie is supposed to fight—”

  “Carter Fletcher.”

  “Right. He dropped in the rec center so Denver is hanging around to hear what it was about. And then Armie wants to check on a boy who’s having a rough time of it, and Denver wanted to go along. They’ll be a minimum of an hour late, but probably longer.”

  “Where are the other guys?”

  “Stack’s busy setting up some gym equipment in Vanity’s basement—”

  “It’s our basement now,” Vanity sang out, “because Stack is all mine, so what’s mine is his.”

  Cherry laughed and added, “Gage and Cannon were heading over there to help out.”

  “So we’re all free, then.” Did she dare join them? Merissa gave it quick thought, and nodded. “I’m ten minutes away.”

  “Yay! This is going to be so fun.”

  Merissa had her doubts about that, but she couldn’t let the other ladies go in without her. Besides, after the scare she’d had at her house, she didn’t want to be alone in Armie’s apartment. “You’ll wait for me outside?”

  “We’re sitting in Harper’s car. Drive safe, but hurry!”

  Merissa disconnected, and instead of going straight, took the first left. No reason now to call Armie or her brother, since she knew they were both busy.

  Later would be a better time to clue them in.

  Much, much later.

  * * *

  SOON AS CARTER took off, Denver joined him, getting into the passenger seat of his truck without fanfare, then strapping on his seat belt.

  Surprised, Armie cocked a brow. “Am I playing chauffeur?”

 

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