Sons of Justice 9: Fighting Chance (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “I have something I need to look over.”

  He and his brother shared similar features and hair and eye color, but Romano kept his hair short and military trimmed and was a bit stockier and two inches shorter then Hook. They’d both played the same sports in school but were two years apart, Romano the oldest.

  “Like what?” Romano asked, and Hook looked at him a minute.

  “Just some things.”

  “Anything I can help with?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then come join us. I’ve been gone a week. It’s good to have the whole family together.”

  Hook felt a tightness in his chest. He didn’t truly feel like he was part of the family. Even though the guys thought of him as a brother, just like he thought of them as his brothers, not just Romano, there was something between accepting it fully. Like a small, very thick shield of protection. Like he didn’t want that vulnerability and he fought to feel weak or sensitive to anything. It definitely stood in the way of them all connecting like a team. Amongst one another, they had that bond and talked about anything and everything and shred it all with one another. He didn’t. Couldn’t. Was still working on that connection and on letting down that guard. It might never happen.

  “I’ll be down in a little bit.”

  Romano nodded.

  “It’s good to be back home and to see you. Glad that you’re here.” He walked out of the room.

  Hook clenched his teeth. He wondered how his brother could do that. Say such meaningful, sensitive words with truth and pure honesty? How? That capability was broken in Hook. He didn’t do caring, comforting, compassion. He did what he wanted, what he needed, and avoided connections. He glanced at the folder on his desk. Which was why he was avoiding this business move. There would be a constant, meaningful connection between him and Flick if he signed those papers and shared the business as partners.

  There would be a commitment, a bond, and the inability to break free when he felt that claustrophobic feeling consume him and he wouldn’t be able to leave. Although leaving town, leaving Romano and the team, his family didn’t seem like a possibility so much anymore, it was still there as an escape. He wasn’t fully setting feet in the ground and staying here. Not yet, maybe not ever.

  Chapter Two

  “How did she look when you saw her yesterday?” Flick asked Merica as he came into the office.

  She exhaled, thinking about Celia and how white she’d looked and so weak. It was terrible, and she was losing her hair, too.

  “She didn’t look well at all. Barry said this will be the toughest time for her. The next few weeks.”

  “I’m going to go by there tonight after work. If she’s up for the visit, that is.” He looked emotional.

  “I hated seeing her like that, too, but when she did see me, she smiled and seemed to get a burst of some energy, so maybe going to see her every so often could help her.” She stood up to bring some papers over to the printer.

  He looked at his watch. “Shit, the class is going to start. You’re good?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I knew you would be when Celia suggested you cover for her. You’re an angel. I’ll see you in an hour.” He hurried down the hallway.

  As she set the papers onto the printer, she heard it make a funny noise.

  “Oh no, don’t even tell me he didn’t get this thing fixed.” She reached behind the back to wiggle the one wire. The printer started, and she thought she had it working when it stopped, making the funny noise again. She reached back over the side, bending slightly over the machine, and then had to use her other hand to hit the button. It appeared like the one mechanism in the back was loose and broken and needed to be replaced.

  “Damn it, Flick. No wonder Celia complained so much about this thing.”

  “Need help?”

  She gasped at the sound of the deep voice, and when she turned to the right, her blouse caught onto the copy tray, yanked it from its position in the printer, and hit her side. “Ouch!” She grabbed her side and cringed from the burning sensation.

  “What are you, some kind of klutz?” Hook asked her, well, reprimanded her, as he took her by her elbow, turned her around to face him, and reached for her hip.

  “Jesus, it’s all red.”

  She yanked her arm free from his hold, and despite the high heels she wore, he still towered over her, and his eyes went to her chest.

  “Ever hear of knocking?” she snapped at him and then turned away holding her side. “Damn it.”

  “What the hell are you doing in here anyway?” he barked at her as he bent down to pick up the tray that had fallen off the printer. He then proceeded to fix the machine.

  “What are you doing in here, scaring me?”

  “Scaring you? I work here, and don’t blame me for your clumsiness.”

  Her jaw dropped, and she glared at him, completely forgetting about who she was getting pissed at.

  “Clumsiness? I don’t think so, buddy. Why don’t you stick to smashing heads in the ring and leave the thinking to us people with brains? I work here, too, so if you don’t mind, this is my office.” She turned around and lifted her blouse on the side and saw the chafed skin and redness. It really did burn, and it looked like it was beginning to bruise.

  She heard him walk out of the room, and she started shaking, but then she heard a door close and then him return. She glared at him.

  “Here, put this on it, but wrap it in this first so the cold ice pack doesn’t burn your skin.”

  She stared up at him. She couldn’t move. She stood there with one hand over her waist and the other gripping her blouse raised up, and he looked down and stepped closer. She stepped back, and he stepped closer to her again.

  “Stop,” he commanded, and she did, instantly stopped, and her chest heaved up and down. The man was fierce with those dark eyes, all those black tattoos covering his arms and even some on his neck. She was scared of him.

  Her ass was pressed against the desk, and he bent down and placed the paper towel and ice pack over her skin. When his eyes locked onto hers, she could hardly catch her breath. The man was huge, filled with muscles she could see through the tight red T-shirt he wore with the club logo on it. His tattoos were all over his arms and even up his neck on one side. She gulped, and then his eyes lingered down to her chest. When he reached for her blouse, she grabbed his wrist, and he raised one eyebrow up at her and then looked down as if telling her why he was reaching for her blouse. She looked down, and holy crap, her blouse was gaping open, one breast pouring from the white lace bra she wore and exposed to him. He covered it up. And she let go of his wrist.

  He kept the ice pack on her waist, and then she went to reach for it, but he started talking to her.

  “So you just started working here?” he asked her.

  She nodded her head. She was scared of this guy, intimidated, unsure of his capabilities and whether he was normal or not. She saw him in that cage, saw the rage in his eyes and how one punch knocked that other big guy out.

  “Yes. Covering for Celia.”

  He just stared into her eyes, and it was weird. She wanted to turn away, but for some reason, she thought this man would respect her more if she held his gaze and didn’t falter. She didn’t know why she thought that or why she was analyzing this situation further. She needed to just tell him she was fine and that she could hold the ice pack against her skin, which was currently really freaking cold.

  “Didn’t you have a job?” he asked, but it sounded like an insult.

  “I have several jobs, actually.”

  “Like?”

  “Bookkeeping for other businesses, and you? What do you do here?”

  He stared into her eyes and then at her jaw. She looked into his eyes and then at that mark on his jaw from yesterday’s cage fight.

  “Training, mostly private sessions.”

  “Is that what that fight was yesterday, a private session that became public?�
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  He shook his head.

  “The man needed to be set straight. So did the other guy who grabbed you. What happened anyway? You flirt and then not follow through?” he asked, insulting her again.

  “I can do this myself.” She went to reach for the ice pack, but he didn’t move his hand, and so she covered his hand with hers, and the attraction, the instant connection, was shocking to both of them. He stepped back, allowing her to hold the ice there, but in order to avoid the awkwardness of the situation, she pulled the ice pack away and looked at her skin. When he reached out and placed his hand on her hip, she felt the connection again, his warm, yet firm hold on her hipbone, and it aroused her. Holy crap, she must be losing her mind to be attracted to this guy.

  “I think it’s fine now,” she said to him, and he looked down at the red mark. “It’s just red. It will go away in a few days I’m sure, just like that mark on your jaw.”

  He squinted at her.

  “It looks like it may bruise, too,” he whispered to her, holding her gaze

  “Well, bruises heal.”

  “A woman should never have bruises on her.”

  She gave a soft smile. “Agree, but accidents happen. So was there something you needed from Flick, or that I could help you with?”

  “I needed to make a copy of that sheet, but since you broke the printer…” he said very seriously.

  “I didn’t break it. It’s been broken for months, and Celia warned me about it. You know it was your fault anyway for not knocking and just coming in here and…”

  She stopped talking as he sort of smirked and raised his eyebrows up at her. He had been teasing? Him? Holy crap.

  “Nice.”

  “Come on and I’ll fix it. You put the ice back, and then we’ll figure this out together.”

  “You don’t have a class to teach?”

  “Private lessons, remember?” he asked, eyeing her over.

  There was a knock on the office door, and they both turned to see three women there, all dolled up with makeup and coordinating tight workout clothing.

  “Hook, are you doing any private classes we could get into? We really want you to teach us some moves,” one of them said, eying him over all, flirty.

  Merica snickered as she turned around and fixed her blouse and then pulled the printer out.

  “You don’t belong in here. Take a hike. I only train serious competitors.”

  “Oh, come on, not even for a private training the three of us and you?” the other one asked him.

  “No.”

  They complained but closed the door and walked away. He came back over to help her with the printer.

  “Flirt too much and now you regret it?” she asked, kind of throwing back in his face what he had said earlier to her about the guy who’d grabbed her.

  “I never flirt.”

  “Oh, don’t have to because women throw themselves at you?”

  “Kind of like you and how strange men you don’t know wrap you up in their arms and try whisking you off.”

  “He wouldn’t have gotten away with it. I had it covered.”

  “Your move only slightly deterred him.”

  “He released me, and that was the point.”

  “No, he would have grabbed you again and probably done something, like kiss you or touch you. My move stopped him.”

  “No argument there. I’d thank you, but something tells me you live for fighting and using your abilities, so I’ll just leave it being in the right place at the right time.”

  He fixed the printer, at least temporarily, so they could both make copies

  “Got something against fighting?” he asked her.

  “I try to stay clear of violence if I can.”

  He stared at her and licked his lower lip, and she wondered what it would feel like if he kissed her.

  “I get upset at seeing bruises and battered skin.”

  “It’s a sport though.”

  “I understand that. Kicking the crap out of each other for fun or for money. Some sport.”

  “You forgot about the ladies,” he teased.

  “Not sure those were ladies.” She walked back to her desk and organized her papers.

  “If you don’t need anything…” she added, keeping her demeanor calm.

  “I’m good, but if I do need something, I’ll be back.” He stared at her and eyed her over. Why in the world that statement excited her and made her blush she didn’t know. For a man who said he didn’t flirt, he sure was flirting pretty good right now.

  * * * *

  “This is crazy, man. Why are there so many people here?” Ricci asked Tat. “Must be the band that’s going to start playing soon. Don’t really give a shit. The competition was lame,” Tat said, referring to the martial arts competition they’d all come to watch on the numerous flat-screen TVs at The Ring.

  “I say bring on the band now,” Basile added and then took a slug of beer. He was part of Tat’s team, along with Vaccaro and Spadaro, who were currently talking to three women.

  “What’s going on over there?” Greco asked.

  They all turned to take a look at a situation near the bar, but then Romano stood up. “That’s Merica.”

  Rossi, Greco, and Ricci all turned to look, and sure enough, it was her. She was walking from the back hallway and right where some kind of altercation was taking place.

  “Let’s go see what’s going on,” Rossi said to Romano. They all headed over.

  The second Ricci was close enough to hear the exchange he realized that the bartender was having it out with three men by the corner of the bar and a woman. That woman was pissed, and the two men that were next to Merica placed their hands on her hips and were telling her to step aside as if protecting her, but then the one guy by the bar stood up and told them all to go screw themselves.

  Ricci grabbed Merica’s arm and pulled her between him and Romano.

  “Oh God, you scared me,” she said to Ricci, who wrapped his arm around her waist and moved her farther from the situation.

  “What’s going on over here?” he asked her, staring down into her gorgeous deep green eyes. Holy shit, did she look hot. She wore a pretty sleeveless top and a tight knee-length black skirt that hugged her body. The high heels had her losing her balance as someone bumped into Rossi and then her.

  “Come on,” Greco said, and Ricci pulled her over to where they were hanging out with Tat and the guys.

  “I should really stay over there and see what happens. Captain is going to be upset at that situation and will probably fire Michelle.”

  “Is Michelle the bartender?” Greco asked, and Ricci kept his arm around her waist and between him and Romano, who had his hand on the table as she leaned against it and his arm. They were surrounding her, and she looked uneasy. Even though she was in the high heels, they towered over her, but holy shit, did she look hot.

  “Who’s your friend?” Tat asked, and Ricci introduced Merica to Tat and the guys. They shook hands hello, and Ricci could see the men eating her up with their eyes. He got annoyed.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked her.

  “I work here.”

  “Doing what?” Romano asked.

  “I do bookkeeping for Captain. That’s why I was here tonight. I’ve bartended when he needed emergency backup, and, well, I was heading out with him when we heard about the situation.”

  “Which is what exactly, darling?” Basile asked her, sweeping over her body with his eyes.

  “Well, from what I gathered, Michelle who works behind the bar, was dating one of the guys and then started seeing the brother, too, but then she broke up with them to go out with someone else, and they showed up with that woman and—”

  She suddenly stopped talking and stepped forward, looking toward the bar.

  “Oh no,” she exclaimed, and they watched the girl Michele jump over the bar and attack the other woman.

  They were fighting on the ground. Merica covered her mouth, and R
omano wrapped his arm around her waist when she started to walk as if she were going to go assist.

  “You stay put. Those aren’t ladies. You don’t need to get in the middle.”

  “She’s going to get fired.”

  But then she looked up toward Romano and Ricci. Ricci couldn’t resist. He stroked her jaw. She worried her bottom lip, and Rossi and Greco remained right there around them, too.

  “You’re too sweet, too beautiful and classy to even be around women like them.” He pressed closer.

  “I appreciate the compliment, but I think I should head back over to Captain. He looks pissed off.” She turned from Romano’s arms before Ricci could kiss her like he imagined being able to do some day. He stopped her and placed his hands on her hips, and with Romano so close, as well as Greco and Rossi, the woman looked panicked.

  Her eyes widened.

  “Stay and have a drink with us. We’ll talk, hang out,” he suggested.

  She shook her head and glanced at the others. She looked intimidated to say the least.

  “I need to go.” She pushed her hair behind her ear on one side.

  Rossi reached out and stroked her arm.

  “Stay. We haven’t had a chance to talk or anything, and then everything happened with Brazille and after that we had a mission we went on.”

  “I’m supposed to meet Talia, Avana, Tiana, and Marianna here.” She started looking for them.

  Ricci didn’t want to see her go, and one look at Romano and that firm, hard expression and it seemed he didn’t want her leaving either.

  “Stay.” Romano placed his hand under her hair at her neck, tilted her head back, and pressed closer to her like he would kiss her, but instead, Romano whispered into her ear. She closed her eyes and held on to his sides.

  Her eyes then widened as they all watched her response to Romano.

  “Romano.” She said his name in a scolding tone, and as he eased back, he kissed her neck and her cheek.

  “Tell me you don’t feel it,” he challenged her.

  “Feel what?”

  He gripped her hip and pulled her snug against his body, his hand still under her hair, giving her no option but to look him in the eyes as she stared up at him.