by Shannyn Leah
“It’s all over social media already. Damn it, Bowie, can you not keep from making a scene anywhere we go?” He was one to talk. She’d managed to stay out of the spotlight for years while he’d pranced around as if he was still a teenager. She found it ironic because she’d trade this new Reed for that selfish, a-hole of a man in a heartbeat.
Reed’s hands released the wheel when he saw Stone. “Bloody hell. Is this why we’re here? Bowie, what did you do?”
THE QUESTION STONE asked himself was, what the hell had Reed done?
Bowie walked up to her brother and slapped the back of his head. “Be nice and say hi.”
Reed narrowed his eyes on Stone. Lord, if he wasn’t in a wheelchair, Stone would have punched the smart-ass look right off his smart-aleck face. He hadn’t liked his rich, entitled attitude ten years ago and he sure didn’t like it now.
“I don’t think we were ever nice to each other.” Reed arched his eyebrow as if challenging Stone to argue.
Why would he? He’d loathed guys like Reed. Dim-witted twits with too much money who could only muster up a thrill by stepping into a fighting ring and getting the shit kicked out of them. Stone would be the first to admit the adrenaline rush was incredible, but he’d worked his ass off in order to survive in a ring. Models, actors and even the occasional musician just wanted a quick high and usually ended up in the ER bleeding to death.
“Did you earn this seat in a match?”
Reed snickered. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”
Stone folded her arms over his chest. “I can see that.”
“Screw you, Patino. Why don’t you crawl into the dirty garage you came out of.”
They’d been keeping tabs on him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “You should be kissing my ass for saving you here, not kicking it.”
“I don’t need—”
“So you’ve said. From your wheelchair.” Stone looked at Bowie. She clenched her hands together in front of her, a nervous reaction he wasn’t accustomed to seeing in her.
“He was in a vehicle accident—or collision they call it—”
“Bowie! It isn’t his damn business.”
She jumped at her brother’s hiked voice before taking a deep breath. “We kept it out of the newspapers and social media as much as we could. They’re vultures. They know Reed was involved in an accident, but not much more was said—”
“Bowie—”
“To clarify, he wasn’t driving and no one knows about his condition or why he’s dropped out of the spotlight—”
“Bowie!”
Stone pointed a finger at Reed. “You cut her off one more time and I’ll give you a reason to whine.”
Reed cursed, but what more could he do from his chair?
Stone rubbed his chin. “What does this have to do with...” He swallowed the lump rising up his throat. Just the man’s name palpitated fury through his veins like no other topic in the world could. He’d dreamed about the day he could step into a fighting ring with Walker. Just the two of them. Not his goons, or his boys. With no rules in the underground ring it meant you fought until one or the other didn’t get back up. He could imagine parts of the fight in his head, feel the contact of his fist against Walker’s smug face, and the rewarding rush of revenge pulsating from head to toe. After craving the match for so long he almost didn’t care what vendetta Walker had with Reed because any reason to get in a ring with that asshole was good enough for Stone.
“He can’t even say his goddam name,” Reed snickered.
“You can’t walk over here and say that to my face.” Stone looked at Bowie. “What does this have to do with Walker?”
Reed and Bowie exchanged a look before Bowie’s eyes landed on him. “Walker’s girlfriend was driving the car that crashed.” Her eyes flickered back to her brother and Stone waited for the rest. “She died at the scene.”
He looked at Reed. “And Walker blames you?”
Reed snickered, looking almost proud of himself. Prick. “We were on our way back to her place where I planned on screwing her all night long.”
Bowie hit Reed upside the head again. “Don’t be a douche.”
Reed rubbed the back of his head. “You dragged him here to defend me. Don’t you think he deserves the details? Tell him where you were while we were on our way back to her place.”
A flash of guilt, or mortification, flashed through her eyes before a warning glare fell upon her brother. “Reed.”
Reed met her glare straight on with his own daring look. “Air all our dirty laundry.”
“Stop it.” She moved in front of her brother giving Stone a nice view of her backside in the tight dress. His eyes took in the way her middle drew together and then flared at her hips and over her round ass. Even her curves had changed and he liked what he saw.
He instantly shook his head, scolding himself for falling prey to her good looks ... and something deeper he disregarded as quickly.
“God, you can be such an ass!” she shouted at her brother and Stone found himself blinking to catch up. “I’m trying to save you.”
“You’re wasting all of our time. You think he’s going to stand in a ring for you after he finds out you’ve been sleeping with Walker.”
Stone’s stomach clenched and the air in his lungs rushed out as if a fighting opponent had punched him square in the middle. Only the pain seeped deeper. If he’d thought this woman couldn’t wound him again, he’d been wrong. All the past private moments he’d spent with Bowie, stored in all the secret spots inside were forever tarnished. A curdling feeling of disgust painfully pushed up his chest at just the thought of the man who’d sabotaged his fight having his dirty fingers anywhere near her.
“You want me to fight your boyfriend for your brother and beat him?”
Bowie swung around. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“She doesn’t use the term ‘boyfriend.’ Maybe ‘call-girl.’”
She spun to face her brother again and pointed to the far door. “Go! Now! I swear to God if you don’t get out or shut up I will leak this story to the press. Do you understand?”
Surprisingly, Reed clamped his mouth shut with what seemed to be a permanent snarl.
“I want you to beat him.”
Stone tuned Bowie out as he fought his will not to step back in that alley behind the bar where five of Walker’s guys had circled him, eventually holding him while Walker pounded him until he couldn’t stand anymore.
A sissy fight.
His eyes dropped closed.
Shit.
He could feel himself losing the battle consenting to the revenge he’d craved.
Shit.
He refused to fight for this woman, fight for her brother, or anyone to do with her.
Refused.
But Stone could hear and almost feel each punch Walker had swung, connecting with his jaw, his cheek, even the low blows to his back. He could hear the assholes voice crackle with entertainment—pleasure. For months after that encounter, he’d heard Walker’s voice every time he’d closed his eyes, pushing him to go fight him one-on-one with him.
Stone had resisted. He’d started over. But now...
“Stone?” Bowie’s voice was laced with concern, but whether it was for him and his past with Walker, or his decision to help her brother—to save him—he didn’t know.
Stone opened his eyes. Bowie and Reed’s bodies blurred before him and all he saw was Walker, the cocky asshole standing across from in a ring, grinning, stretching, and ready to throw a punch.
“Set it up,” Stone said.
Reed cursed. “Winning this fight will not win my sister’s affection.”
He minimally focused on the siblings in front of him, but Walker’s image made it damn difficult. “Not everything revolves around you two.” Their self-absorption made him sick. “And I’ll need a few fights before the day. Set it up, Bowie.”
She nodded.
Stone stalked to the door and pressed
the button. Goddam Walker would get what he deserved. He’d drill him so far into the ground he’d never bother anyone again.
The elevator slid open and as Stone stepped inside, Duke stepped out.
Stone turned to face the two people who seemed stuck in an unrealistic world. “For the record, your dad would be disappointed in this scenario. In both of you.” He pointed between them. “Slap me, hate me, I don’t give a shit, but he expected more from both of you. We all know it.”
“Don’t put your guilt on us. You didn’t live up to his expectations either, running away with your tail between your legs.”
Stone pointed at Reed. “And if this one can’t watch his mouth, leave him here.”
Chapter Five
BOWIE WATCHED THE elevator doors slide shut as Stone departed.
It didn’t matter that her brother’s lies about her and Walker had put the finishing nails on Stone’s resentment toward her, she still wanted to chase Stone down to step back into his protective arms.
He’d always had a way of making her forget the outside world when it was only the two of them and time hadn’t changed that. Not for her anyway. The pulsing vein on Stone’s neck had demonstrated his low tolerance at even being in the in the same room as the Blake siblings. While her mind understood where his point of view originated, her body snubbed his response, allowing his touch to ignite her soul and remind the deadened feeling she’d been living with what life and contentment felt like.
How ironic after spending years going through the motions and wondering when an exquisite sunset would wake her up inside, that the moment Stone did exactly that, she wished the numbness would return. Numb felt better than the pain of watching him leave again.
She stood grounded, staring at the closed elevator door while she retained her composure before turning to face her brother. Laughing hysterically at the situation might cause him to believe she’d completely lost her mind, which, on some levels, she wondered if she’d had.
People who said money could buy anything didn’t know how wrong they were. Her life had been nothing but a blur since the day she’d walked away from Stone. Meanwhile, he’d built a life for himself in Willow Valley. According to the private investigator she’d hired, Stone owned a nice property outside of the small tourist town with a ranch-style house and a huge shed where she assumed he kept his collection of bikes. He had a steady job, friends, and visited his dad on a regular basis. He had his life together, and here she was, dragging him into the swirling pit of her life with absolutely no help from her brother.
She turned to the reason they were here and when she found Reed sneering at her, the hysterics of it all quickly vanished. “What is wrong with you?” she demanded.
“What’s wrong with you? Dragging us here so you can rekindle some long lost fling with some country hick who never fit into our world?”
Bowie fisted her hands at her side to keep from slapping him across the face. “That’s what you gathered from this meeting? That I’m here trying to reconnect with Stone?”
“Oh, was this a meeting? I didn’t get the memo or I would have put on my best and not my shitty elastic jogging pants and stained T-shirt!” He grabbed the middle of his shirt and pulled it while his voice rose to yell at her. “No offense to you Duke.”
Bowie had forgotten Duke was even in the room. He was always somewhere in the background, observing and stepping in only when needed.
“Thank you, Duke,” she said. “We are staying in for the night.”
He gave a nod. “Good evening.” She waited for him to retreat to his room. This repeated argument between her and her brother likely bored him. It bored her.
She turned to Reed. “Trust me, Stone wasn’t judging you by your clothes. He was too busy trying not to eyeball the chair you’re sitting in while struggling to keep his fist from knocking you into tomorrow.”
“I wish he had.”
“I’m sure he does too.”
“He’s not fighting for me.”
She made a circle motion with her hands in front of her. “I feel as if you missed this entire meeting.”
“It wasn’t a meeting, it was entrapment.”
She let out an exhausted laugh. “Call it what you will. I don’t plan on letting you die in a match with Walker. No matter what a selfish jerk you are, you’re my brother and you’re not dying in that ring. Not even your little quip about me sleeping with Walker could turn him off. The fight is on.”
“In the heat of the moment.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he doesn’t love you anymore, Bowie, and he sure as hell doesn’t feel guilty over my predicament. Realistically, if you’d hadn’t come here envisioning the man you remember, you would’ve realized if he’d wanted to fight Walker, he wouldn’t need you to set it up.”
Her brother almost doused out the little hope of Stone’s promise, but she didn’t dare let her brother see the impact his words had on her. “Not everyone is as selfish as you are.”
“If I’m so selfish, how about you walk away and let me live my life.”
She walked past him and poured herself a drink at the bar. “No. You make bad decisions.”
“Because this decision was genius.” He rolled his eyes as he spun his chair to face her.
She smiled at him, even with her nerves now back on edge. Would Stone cancel the fight? Was she getting her hopes up for nothing? “Thank you.”
“Sarcasm.”
“I’m aware, but I choose to ignore it. Goodnight, Reed.” She threw back the rest of her drink and left the empty glass on the bar before she retreated to her bedroom. She had made it to the door before her brother spoke.
“Even if Stone fights—and wins—even if Walker leaves me alone, it won’t change me. I’m not the man I was and I’ll never be him again.”
Her fingers tightened around the doorknob and tears stung her eyes.
He’d given up.
Without turning around, she blinked away the water gathering in her eyes and said, “You’re better than he was. That feeling you can’t stomach is called guilt and the fact you’re feeling it is a good step away from being the man you were.”
“What kind of shit is that?” her brother roared. “No wonder we’re here, you’ve lost your damn marbles.”
“Goodnight, Reed.”
“Goodnight,” he huffed. “I don’t even remember what a ‘good night’ is.” She heard the wheels of his chair rattle the bar and then glasses clinked together and he popped the lid off a bottle of alcohol. “Goodnight, bullshit. Cheers to the bottle instead.”
She shut her bedroom door and leaned her shuddering back against it. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she’d ever see real remnants of a happy person in her brother again.
STONE’S FIST STUNG with each blow he swung at the punching bag hanging in his dad’s gym. Darkness enveloped his surroundings with only a single bulb dangling from a wire above his small area as the hours passed by.
He’d come to pound away his growing inner uncertainty, rage and pain—every last goddam emotion he’d buried and ignored year after year. But no amount of concentration could keep him from mentally deepening further into a place he’d once resided.
His grunts grew louder, his movements more precise. This familiar internal place didn’t feel as good as it once had. But had he ever been this angry? Or wanted revenge like the one that had begun festering that day Walker had confronted him in the alleyway?
Damn Walker.
Damn Bowie.
Damn his inability to say no.
His stance was weak and precision off, but tonight wasn’t about winning but rather venting. He swung again, sending sweat down his forehead and dribbling over his eyelashes. He punched again, and again.
Harder.
Angrier.
Ready to damn the world.
“You said yes, didn’t you?”
Stone didn’t look at Dax. Didn’t care how he got past the locked doors or how lon
g he’d been standing there watching him. He just grunted a, “Yes.”
Dax cursed. “You’re a damn fool.”
“Who’s a damn fool?” His dad’s voice answered the matter of how Dax got entry into the locked gym. Stone didn’t care. His friend could have broken a window to gain entrance and Stone wouldn’t’ have bothered to care.
Stone punched the bag without much force, blaming the dissipating attentiveness on the men’s nattering invading his unstable mind. “I’m going to fight Walker.”
“Walker?” Both Slate and Dax’s voices held concern and surprise they couldn’t mask.
Stone straightened and grabbed each side of the punching bag to look at them. “One-on-one. In an underground ring. Last man standing.”
His father’s bushy grey eyebrows furrowed together and lines of worry etched his forehead. “Show that bastard the pansy-ass he is.” The crooked smile on the old man’s face could have fooled Stone into believing he was proud of his decision to fight again.
Stone’s lips relaxed into an almost half smile. His dad never ceased to surprise him, but encouraging a fight he’d never supported was as shocking as finding Bowie here earlier.
“The little shit deserves a good ass kicking.”
Dax’s arms firmly folded over his chest, as he glared between the men. “You’re both stubborn fools.” That declaration wasn’t anything new. “Need I remind you both that Stone almost died last time he stepped into a ring and the repercussions the last fight left on his body? Traumatic brain injury ringing any goddam bells!” His shouting echoed off the walls as his legs rapidly moved him around the gym.
“You have to enroll in a few fights before the big one with Walker,” his dad said.
“Bowie’s setting it up.”
Dax cursed their planning.
“And the girl, don’t bring her to a fight. Her presence will distract you.”
That wouldn’t be a problem. Bowie had vowed off fighting rings after her father’s death, even refusing to attend Stone’s last fight.