She slips her phone into her bag and my phone vibrates. Pulling my phone out, the worried confusion I feel turns to anger.
“Hey, you. Don’t wait up for me too late, I’ve gotta stay late and get these highlights right. Test next week. Would you want to move our art lessons up a bit? I’d like to try and start working at Ashes sooner than later. And to do that, I’ve got to learn from the best. But Asher’s busy. ;P Love you, Daddy.”
And now she’s lying?
Fuck that, I’m going to… I stop.
Just as I start to walk towards her and demand to know what the fuck is going on, some big burly fucker approaches her in the darkness. It takes everything in my power not to barrel over there and shove him away from her, but Roxie nods at something he says. She’s not embracing him like a friend, but she obviously knows him. Her fingers tighten on her bag straps as they both walk into the gym and I’m pretty sure my knuckles are going burst just from how tightly I’m clenching my fists to keep from rushing in there.
I step forward, almost unconsciously with the need to protect and be with Roxie, but I catch myself before I fully step out of the shadows.
But it’s like Rox can feel me because right before the dingy wooden door closes, she turns back and looks right at me.
Fuck,I swear and hang my head for just a second, frustrated that I thought I got caught, and flick my eyes back up to Roxie.Instead of the terrifying look of impending murder on her face like I was expecting, there’s a sort of…reluctant acceptance.
She’s not happy.
She doesn’t want to be there.
Her beautiful dark eyes look full of longing and resignation at the same time. What is she doing?
And how do I save her from this?
CHAPTER 27
“How many timesdo I have to tell Mickey that I don’t need a fucking handler?” I snap at the gigantic fucker behind me as I run through my warm up.
I have to say, I’m really not fucking happy to be fighting for Mickey again, but getting back into the gym has been nice. Feeling the bag under my knuckles with each snap of my fist, the way the pain shoots through my hand in a tight and controlled way that I crave, the way my muscles pull with each movement. I’ve missed it.
What I havenotmissed is the pressure Mickey puts me under. The sword hanging over my head, the rope holding it up that frays with every breath I take… I feel like Damocles.
And it’s getting old real goddamn fast.
“He’ll back off after the fight.” The guy following me is one I haven’t met before. Mickey must have had to hire a new lackey.He’s easy on the eyes for sure, but he’s also creepy. Looking him up and down I try to bite my tongue on how easily he could get girls that he’s probably not getting now if he’d change his clothes. I mean, come on. Dirty, ripped, baggie jeans, stained wife-beater, greasy as fuck hair… It all takes away from his actual attractiveness.
I pull the shirt that I stole from Ty over my head, letting the fabric drown me and hope that it’s a clear enough signal to him to back the hell off.
He hasn’t touched me, and I’m not about to let it happen.
“How much longer?” I snap under my breath, knuckles aching as I hit the bag again and watch with satisfaction as it sways.
The lackey looks at his watch with a bored expression before sighing.
“Forty more minutes.”
My eyes drift over to the electronic clock in the corner, one that’s mostly hidden, but I can see it.And he’s fucking lying.
“What the hell, man?” I snap, my hands dropping as I turn to face this guy.I should really learn his name, but at the same time… I really don’t give a shit.“You and I both know that I am only meant to be here for 90 minutes. That means I have ten minutes left on Mickey’s stupid timer.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Someone’s watching me.
“You don’t know the time, bitch. I’m following orders,” he snarls and flips his phone around to show me.
“The bitch better be training until 10pm, she needs to get better and she’s falling behind. Do not let her leave until then. Use whatever force necessary. She does not leave your sight.”
Charming.
