I swallow. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Good.” With that, he turns away, already making a call. The officers shove me toward the exit, pausing long enough to let me don my shoes before dragging me outside. The second the door opens, cameras flash and I instinctively duck to get away from them. Shit. Someone called the paparazzi. This is going to be all over the news in minutes. How will Lena react?Lena. My stomach revolts, threatening to throw up the omelet I had for breakfast.
“Hold it in,” an officer snaps when I retch. He yells at a nearby photographer, throws the back of his police cruiser open, and when I don’t move fast enough, he stuffs me in.
On the way to the precinct, the officers lob questions back over their shoulders, but I keep my promise to Seth and don’t say a word. Even when I want to. They’re insulting me, trying to press my buttons. They must’ve been told I’m a hothead, but they didn’t count on how close-lipped I can be when it serves my purposes. It’s only when they transfer me to a holding cell and one of them gleefully holds up a copy of an overnight tabloid that they finally get through to me.
The headline reads: “Pro MMA Fighter Jase Rawlins’s Underhanded Tactics.” Beneath it, there’s a photo of Lena and I from the fundraiser. I’m holding her close, my lips touching her ear. The picture leaves no doubt we’re an item. As I scan the text, a writhing ball of fury grows in my stomach. It goes on to say how I screwed my way into getting a prestigious public relations firm to help sweep abuse allegations under the carpet, and how I’d doubled down on general assholery by seducing my opponent’s ex-girlfriend to throw him off balance.
“It’s not fucking true,” I growl, stalking across the cell and kicking the bench seat. “Lena has nothing to do with this shit.”
“Doesn’t look that way to me,” the officer counters with a taunting smile. He’s loving this. One of the bad boys of MMA is under his control, and it’s probably the best thing that’s happened in his pathetic life. He turns the tabloid and cocks his head, checking out the photo. “She’s a hot piece of ass. Bet it wasn’t a hardship to tap that.”
Without thinking, I lunge forward, gripping the bars and spewing a stream of profanities, ending with, “Don’t you fucking look at her. Don’t think about her. Stay the fuck away from her, or I’ll rip you to shreds.”
Smirking, the officer backs off. “Might want to get that temper under control, buddy. Judges don’t look too kindly on violent assholes with anger management problems. Especially ones who threaten law enforcement professionals.” He gestures to a camera in the corner. One I hadn’t noticed was there.
“Fuck off.” Sinking onto the bench, I bury my face in my hands. How the hell has it come to this? I thought everything had turned around. That the worst of it was over. But this shit is just getting started, and I’ve dragged Lena down with me.
I curse and stomp around, feeling utterly helpless. I’ve screwed everything up for her. Lena’s professional reputation is more important to her than anything else, and now I’ve muddied it. Will that company she was so excited about even take a second glance at her after I’ve tainted her?
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, knowing she can’t hear me but hoping she knows, nonetheless. “So goddamned sorry, cutie pie.”
What had she told me the other day? She didn’t like the limelight. Well, she’d be getting plenty of it now.
I’m ruining her life.
Lena believed in me. For the first time, someone other than my brothers from the gym had complete faith in me, and I dumped this mess on her. I should’ve known I could never have someone as good and sassy and witty as her. I don’t deserve her, and now the universe is balancing itself out.
The best thing I can do for Lena is to stay away.
16
Lena
I’ve been in the office for long enough to fix a cup of coffee and switch my computer on when Adrian sweeps in, dressed all in black with a grim expression. Uh-oh. This can’t be good.
“LaFontaine,” he barks, his chest puffed up with self-importance. Whatever he has to say, it must be serious, because he hardly ever calls me by my last name unless he’s about to dump a shit sandwich in my lap. I resist the urge to salute and stand at attention, instead straightening my skirt and meeting his burning gaze. Jeez, something has put a bee in his bonnet.
“What is it, Adrian?”
“Jase Rawlins has been arrested.”
My heart pounds in my ears, and I’m pretty sure I’ve misheard him. Pressing my palm to my chest to calm the wild hammering, I ask him to repeat himself.
“You heard me,” he says, closing the door behind him. Dread creeps up my spine. This is bad.Reallybad. He approaches me with the kind of slow, rolling walk that might be menacing if he were taller or broader. “I don’t know how you possibly made things worse, but congratulations, you did.” His eyes narrow. “Is this your way of getting back at me because you didn’t want him as a client?”
“No.” My back is ramrod straight. Even if I want to puke, I’m not going to cower and plead for forgiveness. I did my best to fix Jase’s public image, even if I may have broken the no-fraternization rule while I was at it.
He gestures for me to sit but I don’t. He wants the advantage of height so he can look down on me, and I’m not about to give it to him. In my heels, I’m a good two inches taller than Adrian.
His expression darkens. “Even if you can salvage this situation, I doubt you’ll have a job at the end of this.” Pausing for a moment, he lets his words sink in.
Is he threatening to fire me? Can he do that just because I didn’t pull off a miracle?
Then he plays his ace. “Especially if you’ve been sleeping with him.”
“Excuse me?” Did he just accuse me of…? My jaw drops. I mean, it’s true, but where does he get off suggesting that? We haven’t been obvious about it.
