“How are you, Sophie?” Elton asked as he walked past me, heading toward the ring where Jackson sparred with a new partner. Or at least, he was new to me, since I’d never seen him before.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
I was about to ask him the same when he shouted at Jackson to protect his right side. If I yelled after him now, I doubted he’d hear me, so I went about collecting the discarded towels and tossing them in a nearby basket.
The last two hours of my shift dragged, and every time I glanced toward the area Jackson occupied, he was focused on his training. Not once did I catch him looking in my direction, and even though I hated to admit such a thing, disappointment swirled through me at the lack of attention. The notion was utterly ridiculous. I internally rolled my eyes because of course he wasn’t looking at me. He had a job to do, and he didn’t need to be distracted by anything, including me.
We worked together, sort of, and therefore getting involved would be a huge mistake. Not that getting together would even be an option. I didn’t know why I thought about him inthatway. Getting involved with anyone wasn’t in the cards for me, not for a long time. I wasn’t even divorced yet, a situation I hoped would rectify itself soon. The quicker I could put that chapter of my life behind me, the better. And safer.
Mitch was the type of man who was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. His position as a police officer in the Las Vegas Police Department only seemed to intensify his sense of superiority. Law enforcement had their own code, their own rules, and their own way of covering up a situation they didn’t want to be made public. I knew firsthand how the police force worked, having called them on two separate occasions. A unit was dispatched to our home both times, but I was either told I overreacted or was assured they weren’t going to proceed, taking his word over mine. And because I didn’t have any bruises to show them, they dismissed my claims of feeling unsafe. The last call was four months before I packed up what I could and left.
I would’ve dwelled on my situation further but was distracted when a woman walked into the gym dressed almost identically to the woman who showed up the day Jackson mistakenly took me for a whore. While that woman was blonde, this one was brunette, a bit taller, and with bigger breasts. Hating that I remembered what the first one looked like enough to comparethe two, I watched her stride toward the back room, where I had no doubt she’d wait for Jackson. She’d obviously been here before if she knew where he conducted hisbusiness.
For the first time since I’d arrived today, Jackson turned to look at me as he hopped out of the ring, stopping for a moment before rushing off toward the woman. He snatched her hand and dragged her from view. The door slammed, rattling the frame along with my nerves, and I chastised myself for caring, for giving him a second thought. For thinking about what they were doing back there, though I was fully aware.
"Sophie?”
I swiveled toward the sound of my name, surprised to see my sister walking toward me. Her pulled-in brows had me erasing the space between us in no time.
“What’s wrong? Is it Dad?”
“No, he’s fine.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Mitch showed up at the house this morning.”
“Oh.” A wave of nausea made my stomach flip.
“Yeah, and he wasn’t happy you weren’t there.”
“Did you tell him where I was?”
“Of course not.” Abby’s shoulders slumped. “But he’ll find out eventually. And he’s going to try and get you fired from here as well.” She glanced around the room before returning her attention to me.
I’d managed to secure a job at a jewelry store a few months back, but before I finished my first week, my soon-to-be ex told the manager I had a drug problem and would steal from them if they kept me on. Unfortunately, since the manager didn’t know me well and had no knowledge that I’d never touched a drug in my life and that the only thing I’d ever stolen was a pack of gum when I was eight years old, he believed the lies. Mitch’s badge no doubt sealed the deal. He wielded that damn scrap of metal like a weapon.
It was inevitable that he would find out I worked here and pull the same shit he had before. I needed to talk to Lance to let him know what was going on. Keeping my personal life private was no longer an option if I wanted to keep my job. Plus, the apartment was a much-needed bonus, and I didn’t want to lose it.
Having a trained fighter living next door offered a sense of safety, but I’d never involve Jackson in my domestic issues for fear of risking his freedom or putting his career in jeopardy. Besides, if I did, I could kiss this job goodbye. Lance and Elton were loyal to Jackson, and they’d vote to get rid of me.
“What did he say?” My sister ignored my question, too focused on something behind me. “Abby,” I said forcefully. Her gaze slowly veered back to me, but she was only partially engaged. Before I could ask her again what Mitch had said, a booming yell echoed through the gym as the door from the back room swung open. The brunette from earlier hurried across the room, clutching her top. At first glance she looked like she’d been attacked, but as she passed, she appeared more irritated than frightened.
Did Jackson do something to upset her, or did he kick her out afterward, and she was offended?
“Scarlett!” Lance shouted, chasing after her.
“What the hell was that all about?” Abby asked, her interest now fully focused on the unfolding drama rather than our conversation.
“I have no idea.”
I had an inkling as to what might’ve happened, but I didn’t give away any information. I didn’t want her to have a negative opinion of Jackson or worry about me working here.
Why do I care about what she thinks of him?I barely knew the guy, and it wasn’t like our interactions had been pleasant.Except for earlier this morning, but I considered that encounter to be an exception.
Before I could steer the conversation back to why she’d come here, Jackson stormed back into the gym, clothed only in the shorts he’d worn in the ring. He glanced in our direction, and even from this distance, I could see his anger in the flare of his nostrils and the clenching of his fists. Once our eyes met, his gaze burned into me, and as much as I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. I was too mesmerized by the flex of his corded muscles and the narrowing of his eyes, as if he warred with his internal thoughts.
“Fuck. Who. Is.That?” Abby took a step toward him, but I snatched her wrist to stop her. “Is that the MMA fighter?” She snapped her fingers repeatedly. “Yeah, his face is on those billboards along the strip.”
“That’s him. Jackson Crew.”
“He’s your client?” she asked, continuing to stare at him.
