Cole came out of the kitchen with a sandwich, and the moment his eyes locked with mine, I watched as his shoulder’s tensed as he asked, “What’s wrong?”
I released my lip and said, “I haven’t heard from Lila.”
Cole
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled to her name and pressed dial.
It rang, and rang, and rang... then her voicemail picked up.
I frowned.
Then I hit her work number.
And once again, it rang, and rang and rang, then an automated message played.
What the fuck?
Bronson
I had just told Flynn to hit the bag when my phone rang.
I pulled it out and checked the caller.
I didn’t know that number, but with who I used to be, there was no telling.
I answered.
“Yeah?” I asked.
A man’s name came across the line, “Yes, I’m looking for Bronson Adams.”
I sighed, then pinched the bridge of my nose, “Call my manager.”
I hung up.
Then the number called again.
I ignored it.
When were they going to get the hint?
I was out.
Totally.
I sighed, then got back to work on training the other fighters.
And when four o’clock rolled around I went to my office to take care of some paperwork, but first, I had to clear out my fucking voicemails.
And then that number from earlier popped up.
I growled as I hit the button and growled, “I’m not interested in coming back to the league, so fuck off.”
I was about to end the call when I heard, “Wait! Please. I think you have the wrong idea.”
I growled, “Not likely.”
“I assure you, sir, that you do. My name is Gracie Klein, a nurse at Whispering Falls Memorial Hospital. You are the emergency contact listed for Lila Durant.”
