“Of course, sir, have a good day.” She heads back into the station as we walk through the doors, Yuki falling into step at my side.
“Yuki, compensate the employees for today and make sure no bad press or records are recorded on them,” I tell him.
“Yes, sir.” He hurries to the car that idles outside and opens the door for me, but two males cross my path, cutting me off.
“Baby,” the man whines. He looks familiar, and I eye him. His yellow-and-purple-striped jacket has a racing logo that I’ve definitely seen before. I think we considered sponsoring them.
“Enough, Skylar.” The tattooed man across from him crosses his arms. “You promised no more arrests.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he begins.
“Assault charges?—”
“I hit him once. He was looking at your ass!”
The tattooed man sighs, and the other man, Skylar, kisses him softly. “You look so sexy when you’re in lawyer mode.”
“I thought we were past me bailing your ass out,” he grumbles, but he relaxes, letting Skylar take his hand. “I’m going to tell Noah.”
“No, baby, please—” He follows after him, and I chuckle, shaking my head as I climb into the car. It seems I’m not the only troublemaker in Pine Valley.
The lights in my office are bright, the sun long since set, but I had to clear up the mess from today, ensuring staff and investors as well as the board that everything is fine and we can continue. I have a blaring headache and want to hit the fuck out of someone.
My computer dings repeatedly as emails come through, and I pinchmy nose in exhaustion, trying to stave off the headache. Grabbing my reading glasses, I put them on and focus on the screen, loading my emails. I reply one by one until I come to the most recent.
It’s from a random email address I’ve never seen, and the content has my eyebrows ising.
GET OUT OF PINE VALLEY
OR ELSE
“Or else what?” I scoff. “You need to be more specific if your threats are going to scare me.” I mark it and shoot it off to security, then I pick up my phone. “We have another one. Try to trace it.”
“Yes, sir.”
I hang up. Threats are an everyday occurrence in my line of work. From families who are pissed off we are selling land to competitors or petty keyboard warriors, we take everyone seriously since we can never be too careful, especially after today.
It’s clear someone is gunning for me.
I will find out who, and when I do, they will regret ever coming up against me.
TWENTY-TWO
Ihaven’t seen Zia in a few days, but this time he answers my calls and texts, plus I’ve been busy with training before my next match. It was arranged last minute, but it isn’t an opponent I’m overly worried about. He has an even loss to win ratio, and he’s pretty low ranked, but he’s challenging me to move up. You never know how a match will go, no matter how prepared you are, so I stay focused and treat every single fight like it’s for the title.
Sitting in the dressing room later that night, waiting to be announced, I close my eyes and breathe deeply, squashing down my anxiety and nerves. They have no place here. I must be confident and strong. I must win.
My hands are taped, my shorts are on, and my robe is tied. I’m ready.
I send one last text to Zia to see if he will be coming, but he doesn’t reply, and then the door opens, admitting my dad and Charlie. “It’s time.”
Nodding, I put my phone in the locker and head their way. When I reach them, I stop and tug the hood on my robe into place. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s do this, one more win under the belt.” My dad claps my shoulder, and then I follow him and Charlie down the corridor to thegym, where this match is being held. It’s an hour outside of Pine Valley, but that’s fine with me. I can hear the crowd despite its location. There are a few local TV stations in attendance, as well as fans who are live streaming, so I can’t afford to slip up.
The tunnel is dark as I wait. Bouncing on my toes, I roll my head and keep my muscles warm as the commentator talks, confirming my opponent, and then it’s my turn.
“And in the other corner, needing no introduction, is the one, the only, Nikko—the undefeated.” The crowd roars, and I walk out in front of my dad and Charlie, my hood up as I make my way down the tunnel, through the crowd, and to the ring. Usually, I’m laser focused, but I find myself scanning the stands for a familiar gray head. When I don’t find it, I turn forward in disappointment. The ropes are held for me, so I slide through them, nodding at my competitor, James, as I give the crowd a few fake punches and then wave. They cheer louder, and I head to my corner.
