Flawed Justice

by Tibby Armstrong

  “I thought there wasn’t a place for me to sleep out here. Not that I meant your bed.” Matt mentally face-palmed. Of course, Lawson wouldn’t have made him sleep anywhere but a bed. “I mean. Shit. I’m sorry. I just assumed you had an air mattress, or maybe the floor—”

  The man’s jaw dropped. “You thought I’d let you sleep...on the floor?”

  “I’ve slept worse places. It’s a nice floor?” Matt eyed the sofa. “The couch is too—”

  Law, who had closed in with two steps, pressed his fingers to Matt’s mouth. “Listening?”

  Matt nodded. He should have shut up five minutes ago.

  “I don’t think you’re ready to hear this, but in the interest of setting the record straight, I’ll say it, because apparently I wasn’t explicit enough downstairs.” Lawson dropped his hand and Matt licked his lips, tasting the salty musk left behind. “You’re welcome to my couch. You’re welcome to my chairs. You’re welcome to my kitchen…” Green eyes darkened. “And when you’re ready, you’re welcome to my bed.”

  Matt sucked in a breath, his cock processing the information faster than his brain as he pictured a very naked Law poised over him. “Sure. Yeah.”

  One side of Lawson’s mouth kicked up. “But not tonight. We both need some sleep.”

  Matt nodded and Lawson finished making the bed. When he was done, he clicked on a table lamp and shut off the overheads, casting the room in shadow.

  “Hey, Lawson?”

  Hand on his bedroom door, the man looked over his shoulder.

  “Thanks. For everything.”

  Lawson’s lips parted, and he seemed about to say something. Instead, he nodded and disappeared into his bedroom. Matt stared at the closed door for a minute before he pulled his toothbrush from his duffel. He used the kitchen sink to wash up, making sure to put everything back exactly as he found it, and dried out the sink.

  He stripped down to his briefs, stuffed his clothes in his duffel with much less care than he’d treated Lawson’s property, and sank onto the bed Lawson had made for him. The bedding was cool and soft against his skin. On his back, he tucked one hand under his head and stared at the shadowed recesses of the loft’s high ceiling. The sound of running water permeated his awareness. He looked toward the bedroom door.

  Law was showering.

  Thoughts of the man’s pecs glistening under the spray made Matt groan. He scissored his legs, trying to get comfortable as his body tensed in all the right—and wrong—ways. No fucking way was he jacking off in Lawson’s clean sheets. He was just going to have to find a way to fall asleep. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed his breathing to slow. If nothing else, he had a feeling Lawson might join him in his dreams.

  And Matt would be damned if he could be blamed for what he got up to there.

  Chapter Twelve

  Way too fucking early Lawson woke to the sound of soft footsteps beyond his closed door. Feeling through the darkness for his nightstand drawer he almost had his hand on his gun before his brain caught up. He had a guest in his home. Matt. Who he needed to protect, not shoot because he wasn’t accustomed to the presence of another human being before his first cup of coffee.

  This wouldn’t have happened if he’d kept the man a little…closer. His jaw tensed as he considered the conversation from the night before. Matt had actually believed he’d be forced to sleep on the goddamn floor.

  He was nowhere near ready for what Lawson would prefer.

  Lawson rarely had lovers spend the night, but he remembered sleeping next to Noah. And even Curtis. Both of them teasing him about being moody first thing in the morning. Which he wasn’t—taking time to wake up properly wasn’t being ‘moody’—but he’d had to adjust to their habits over time. He’d sense when one of them climbed out of bed and wouldn’t automatically tense. They weren’t a threat too close to him when he wasn’t fully alert.

  Matt wasn’t a threat either, but he was an unknown factor. He likely hadn’t noticed how Curtis made sure either he or Reed was always nearby when he was working around the club. Lawson had fought for him to be free from his debt to the former, but there were limits to that freedom.

  And Matt still wanted to honor his agreement with Curtis, which meant he was probably preparing for an early start. Cursing under his breath at the sound of his front door unlocking, Lawson shoved out of bed and cut across the room, making it into the open space of his loft just as Matt was about to slip out.

  “Wait.” His tone was sharper than intended and Matt froze, backing away from the door and staring at him. No matter what Lawson did, he always seemed to either scare the man or piss him off. He shook his head and motioned for Matt to follow as he went to the kitchen. “Coffee. Then we’ll discuss what will be expected of you.”

  Reaching back and easing the door shut, Matt gave him a shuttered look. “‘Expected of me’?”

  He’d worded that badly. Why the fuck did anyone expect coherence from him first thing in the damn morning? His routine was always the same. A cup of coffee in his own kitchen while he went over emails from the businesses he worked with, and those interested in assessments from him, a shower before he got dressed, then a second cup of coffee in the bar when he was fit for human interaction.

  None of which Matt knew. He inhaled slowly as he prepared enough coffee for both of them. “You are my responsibility now. Only long-term members are ever in the club this early but I’d rather not take any chances. I’ve cancelled all my meetings for today so we can be seen together. I’d also like to begin your training so you can take on challenges and start earning yourself some good money.”

  The stubborn set to Matt’s jaw relaxed as he weighed Lawson’s words and nodded. “I guess that would be good. No need for you to be stuck with me longer than necessary.”

  Lawson’s lips parted. He pressed them shut and frowned at the other man. “That’s not the issue.”

  “Then what is?”

  Coffee. Drink some coffee and this will all make sense.

  After fixing himself a nice, strong cup, which he always took black with four sugars first thing, then with a dash of cream for the next two, Lawson waited for Matt to join him with his own coffee at the table. Two teaspoons of sugar and enough cream to turn the liquid a pale brown shade. He’d keep that in mind.

  Palming the mug, Matt studied him over the rim. “You’re not a morning person, are you.”

  That kind of appraisal would typically raise Lawson’s hackles, but he felt only relief as he lowered his mug and his lips curved. “That obvious?”

  “It’s… No. Not if I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Not the full truth. Lawson wanted to press him for more—and would if he hadn’t already made the man uncomfortable. He took another sip of coffee and resolved to attempt basic civility, which he’d failed at so far.

  “What are you plans for the morning?”

  “The pool tables.” Matt’s cheeks reddened and he lowered his gaze to his mug. “I—uh—Reed told me where they’re supposed to go. He offered to help me set them up today. I wanted to make sure everything was cleaned again before we start.”

  Finishing off his coffee, Lawson inclined his head. Exploring Matt’s reaction every time the pool tables were mentioned would be interesting, but they weren’t there yet. Putting on a show for the members would be challenging enough. Lawson didn’t doubt that the man was attracted to him, and yet… It was difficult not to acknowledge how many ways Matt would be forced to accept his touch. And his presence. He’d gone into the ring to give Matt choices he hadn’t had before. He refused to let Matt believe he didn’t have them with him.

  Unless it was for his safety. If nothing else, Lawson could guarantee no other in the club would touch him. Not until he was ready to face an opponent in the ring and make enough money so that he had more than whatever was in that worn out duffle bag. How much had Curtis forced him to leave behind?

  He didn’t blame Curtis for making Matt and his brother leave their home, not
with what Reed had told him about who had been waiting, but the man deserved better.

  And Lawson would make sure he had it.

  “Once you’re finished with the pool tables, we can go to the ring. No one else will be allowed in, so you needn’t concern yourself with how your behavior is perceived.” He reached out and put his hand over the one Matt had rested on the table. “It will be the perfect opportunity for you to tell me exactly what you think of me.”

  Matt lifted his startled gaze from Lawson’s hand, to his eyes. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Never before my second cup.”

  That drew a laugh. “Yeah, well I’m not risking pissing you off when you’ve got an excuse to hit me.”

  What might have been meant as a joke sent a sick feeling into Lawson’s gut. He shoved away from the table, measuring his breaths as he went to the kitchen to put his mug in the dishwasher. Standing there, staring at the wall, he considered what he said next very carefully.

  “In the ring you’re a fighter, Matt. I respect you and I won’t take it easy on you.” He swallowed hard, then turned, his gaze level as it locked onto the other man’s. There could be no misunderstandings when it came to this. “But I will never strike you in anger. When we fought, there was only one way for me to end it. I could have done more damage, but that wasn’t my intent. Either way, you were in that ring by choice. Outside of the ring? I will not hurt you.”

  “I wasn’t saying…” Matt rubbed his hand over his lips, his expression telling Lawson he was confused as to why they were having this conversation. But not for long. He gave a quick nod. “I get it.”

  “Good.”

  Not sure what else to say, Lawson returned to his room to get dressed, deciding to put off his morning shower for later so he wouldn’t delay Matt from his plans for the day. He hoped Matt hadn’t read too much into his words, while still having no doubt that he meant every one. The last thing he wanted was for Matt to be genuinely afraid of him.

  He braced his hands on his dresser, shoving aside the memories of why waking not knowing how the day would begin put him on edge. How pathetic was it that with all his training, with everything he’d done to gain the strength to best those who’d think they stood a chance against him, he still woke with the sick feeling that the wrong move could lead to him cleaning his own blood from the floor. Being able to finish his first cup of coffee without pain and whispered apologies was a luxury.

  Not anymore. Don’t fucking go back there. You’re not that man anymore.

  Lowering his head between his arms, he nodded to himself. He wasn’t, but he refused to become that kind of monster to anyone else. He had beaten Matt. He’d left him out cold on the canvas and taken his win. Whatever his intentions, there were still faded bruises on Matt’s face from his fists.

  Ignorance didn’t erase the part he’d played in making The Asylum Matt’s own personal hell.

  All he could do was make sure that never happened again. Matt didn’t have to fear a single man here. He would be the one to decide what happened next. In the ring. In the club. And here. Lawson’s protection would give him that.

  He might not understand what that meant.

  But he would.

  Together they made their way down to the bar and Lawson surveyed the space with as much detachment as he could manage, though his guard immediately went up when he saw who was there. Barely half past eight and there were half a dozen members lounging around—all friends of one of The Asylum’s top tier fighters.

  The man in question, Armand “Ram” Ramsey, had been a student of Noah’s and a part of The Asylum from day one. Dark hair shaved almost to the scalp the man was all fake tan, oiled up showy muscle covered in tattoos, and crass attitude. Thankfully, he rarely came to the club unless he was scheduled to fight. He’d faced Lawson a handful of times over the years and had never come close to a win.

  If he was here to issue another challenge, he’d be leaving shortly. With nothing. Lawson didn’t have the time or patience for his posturing or his pathetic little fan club.

  “Well hey, if it isn’t ‘The Law’.” Ram turned on his stool and propped his elbow on the bar, right where Ezran had been polishing it and ignoring whatever Ram’s toadies had been saying to him.

  Meeting Ezran’s eyes, Lawson jerked his chin, motioning for the boy to leave. Rather than pull more of the defiance he’d been showing of late, the boy gave him a jerky nod and scrambled out from behind the bar, ducking through the doors that led to the ring, where it sounded like Garet was getting one of his lessons.

  Turning his focus to Ram, Lawson folded his arms over his chest and leaned his hip against the bar. “What are you doing here, Ram?”

  Ram lifted one shoulder, his gaze following Matt, who slipped behind the bar to put on a fresh pot of coffee. Making no attempt to hide his interest, Ram’s eyes trailed over Matt, lingering on his threadbare jeans which hung low enough on his waist to expose the white band of his boxer briefs when he leaned down to retrieve the bag of sugar to fill the dispenser.

  “Heard there’d been some trouble.” Ram brought his attention back to Lawson. “This one part of it?”

  Matt stiffened and spilled half the sugar he was pouring onto the counter.

  “No.” Lawson dismissed Ram, cutting behind the bar and putting his hand on the small of Matt’s back as Matt shot a panicked look his way. He lowered his voice, speaking close to Matt’s ear. “Relax.”

  Giving him a tight smile, Matt nodded.

  This wouldn’t do. Far too aware of how his every action was being observed and measured, Lawson brushed his lips over the curve of Matt’s ear and slid his fingers under the hem of his shirt, lightly caressing the flesh at the base of his spine.

  With a little shiver, Matt tipped his head back.

  Lawson gave him a heady lidded look. “I should have kept you upstairs.”

  The heat in Matt’s eyes had Lawson wishing he could tell every fucker in the bar to clear out, but then his expression abruptly closed off. He slid out of reach and glared at the spilled sugar. “What’s the point? And you know I have to work.”

  It took every ounce of strength Lawson had not to gnash his teeth at the response.

  Behind him, Ram barked out a laugh. “Seems like a handful. You get stuck with him or something? I got an easy fix for that.”

  “I don’t recall asking for your input.”

  “Aww, don’t be like that, Law. He’s cute and you don’t have the patience for his shit. I get it.” Ram gave Matt another once over as Matt busied himself cleaning the sugar and fixing them each some coffee. “You need to save face? How about we fight for him?”

  “You’re trying my patience, Ram.” Lawson accepted the coffee Matt handed him and fixed the beefy fighter with a cold stare. “I don’t wager what belongs to me.”

  Ram seemed to find that funny. “Is he aware of that?”

  The conversation was quickly spiraling out of Lawson’s control in front of much too big of an audience. Ram’s group was watching them with unconcealed interest, which would have Matt under even more scrutiny.

  There was only one way to distract them.

  Setting his mug aside, Lawson faced Ram, his lips slitting into an icy smile. “You’ve been away from the club for a long time, Armand. Are you strapped for cash? That would explain why you’re trying to goad me into a fight rather than simply challenging me.”

  The fighter’s face went red as he sat up straight. “I can cover the entry fee just fine.”

  “I see.” Lawson looked over the six other men. “Then none of them will let you fuck them? Your desperation is telling, but I’m afraid you’ll have to continue to add to the calluses on your palms.”

  “You think so?” Ram kicked his stool back as he stood, hands on the bar as he leaned forward. “I’ve never seen you keep anyone this close. Especially someone who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on.” His lips pulled away from his teeth in a sneer. “You can’t watch him all the t
ime, Law. At some point he’ll get a better offer. Or maybe a challenge he can’t talk his way out of.”

  Before Lawson could reply, Curtis strolled into the bar, cracking his knuckles behind his neck. With a lazy smile, he sauntered up to Ram’s side, standing too close, even though his eyes were on Lawson.

  A flash of understanding crossed his face before he rested his forearm on Ram’s shoulder. “We having a party this morning? Fucking missed the invite.” He gave Matt a warm smile. “Mind fixing me a cup, buddy? Add a splash of whiskey, looks like I’ve got some catching up to do.”

  “You fucking him too?” Ram stepped away from Curtis, moving closer to his crew who all looked much less eager to stick around for whatever would come next. Two of them were already halfway to the door.

  “Oh, we having that kinda morning?” Curtis arched a brow, leaning over as Matt handed him his coffee and speaking in a mock whisper. “Someone wanna tell the guy you can get porn for free online?”

  For the entire exchange, Matt had been quiet, practically radiating unease. But at Curtis’s jibe he breathed out a laugh. Like Ram’s men, he probably noticed the odds had shifted in their favor. He wasn’t a stupid man, he’d have figured out Ram was testing Lawson, even if he’d missed his cue on presenting a united front. The situation could easily escalate to a full out brawl in the middle of the bar, regardless of the unwritten rules against it.

  Without Noah here, the boundaries were tested more and more. Another attack on The Asylum had many on edge. Ram might believe he had the support to take on Lawson, but as much as it bruised Lawson’s ego to admit, Curtis had the majority of the club willing to back him. They might be afraid of Lawson, but they liked Curtis.

  Most of them anyway, present company excluded.

  “I’m done with this bullshit. Matt, is it?” Ram held Matt’s wary gaze for a moment, then licked his lips. “I’ll be around.”

  With that the trash decided to take itself out. Once the door closed behind them, Curtis went to lock it.