“Sure, I guess.”
He smirks, leaning down until his lips hover over mine. “Don’t worry, Doc. You’re gonna get fucked. I promise.”
A tiny moan escapes my throat just before his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip. I grip the rails of my chair, sucking in a breath as he pulls away.
“Later,” he says, winking before walking out of the cabin. He mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like, “Later better hurry the fuck up”, but maybe that’s wishful thinking.
My pulse races and my thoughts scatter over the cabin floor.Later?I don’t know how much longer I can wait.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Brooks
“They haven’t released who’s taking over for Duckworth,” Isaac says. I can hear a fountain trickling in the background through the phone. “I put in some calls, but no one knows shit.”
“But do you really think they’d really put Andrew Van on the commission? Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest or something?”
“I see why you’d think that, especially considering the situation. But, no, it’s not a violation of any rules. They often have former fighters fill a seat on the commission for optics. How could they possibly not take your position under consideration if one of you is helping make the decisions?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s such bullshit. This never should’ve taken this long.”
“Yeah, I know. This has taken far too long and the whole thing is bullshit to begin with. But this is where we are and it’s the cards we’re dealt. We’ll figure out the best way to play them.”
How very Stoic of you.
I start to smile, but the severity of the situation erases it.
Alfie’s is quiet aside from a heavy bag swaying in the corner, the chains holding it from the ceiling squeaking softly in the distance. It’s my favorite time of day here—a couple of hours after the last fighters leave and the building has had time to exhale. It’s warm and safe. A true refuge from the world.
“Just remember, Brooks. You don’t know that Drew Van was behind what happened. I know you think?—”
“It’s Occam’s Razor.”
“—that he has a vendetta against you?—”
“That motherfucker has been pissed since we fought on Collision Card ten fucking years ago and I kicked his ass, costing him an NAFL contract,” I say, pacing around the gym. My irritation is growing too fast to do either of us any good. “And I know Van was behind the bribe to get me to throw the contender’s fight against Holmes because if I lost, he would’ve gotten the title shot. Then, he would’ve been champ. Not me.”
“I know, Brooks.”
I groan, running a hand roughly down my face. He thinks I’m delusional or a conspiracy theorist—and maybe I fucking am, I don’t know. But even if I give Van the benefit of the doubt, it all leads back to him. That I can’t deny or find a better explanation. I’ve tried.
Drew is the common denominator. He’s the one who benefits from every outcome. He must be the one behind it all.
“I know you know, Isaac, but it doesn’t seem like you hear what I’m saying. Think about it,” I say, checking my screen at the incoming text. It’s not Audrey, so I ignore it. “Pelfry came in—never should’ve been let into the gym, if we’re being honest—with the intention of taking me out. Why? So, the NAFL would force me to vacate my title because I can’t defend it with a fucked-up shoulder. Then what happens?”
“I know, Brooks,” he says again like a broken record. But his disinterest and frustration doesn’t deter me.
“Then, all of a sudden, Drew Van is in the conversation to fight for the belt.” My jaw aches from grinding my teeth together. “And then he’s passed over, retires, and now he’s on the fucking commission that gets to decide if I can go back to work? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“We don’t know if that’s true. Again, there’s been no announcement about Duckworth’s spot.”
Isaac’s job is to guide me, calm me down—not rile me up. But when he walks me back and tries to play Devil’s Advocate, it feels like it’s me against the world. And that’s a bad place for me to exist. Because it’s been me against the world before and it ended with someone six feet under.
“I hired this guy, Nick, out of Phoenix,” Isaac says. “He’s the best private investigator out there. You need to heal, be patient, and be ready so when we get this cleared up, you’ll be right back to work.”
“Yeah,” I say, huffing a breath. Lights shine through the gym, reflecting off the glass and the plaques hanging off the walls. “Isaac, I gotta go. Thanks for the update.”
