“And that’s where Donovan came in,” sighed Peyton.
“Yup.”
She nodded sympathetically. “I know he ran fights. He used to talk about them all the time. Back rooms, industrial parks, anywhere underground. He wanted to take me once, but it wasn’t my thing.”
“It shouldn’t be anyone’s thing,” I said, the words tasting sour. “It’s barbaric.”
“But you fought.”
My jaw went grudgingly tight. “The money was good.”
“Was it?”
“Compared to nothing? It sure as shit was.”
The wind died, momentarily. In that short span of silence, she studied me carefully.
“You bet on yourself, didn’t you? That’s how you became indebted to him.”
“More or less,” I admitted. “Not directly, though.”
Peyton stared back at me like I’d skipped a step.
“I won a whole bunch in a row,” I explained, “before Donovan finally asked me to throw a fight. Well, he didn’t ask, really. He just ordered me to, and assumed I would.” I scratched at the back of my neck. “There was alotof money at stake, of course. But it wasn’t about the money for him. Never was.”
“It was about the pride,” declared Peyton.
“Yes.”
“And I’m guessing you didn’t throw it,” she theorized. “You tried to, but something inside you took over.”
The corner of my mouth twitched. “Shit, it’s like you know me or something.”
“Guess your pride was more important than Donovan’s.”
“Eighty grand more important, or thereabouts.”
She laughed, but there was no merriment in it. “That must’ve pissed him off.”
“Ya think?”
“So he kept you around after that,” she guessed. “To work it off.”
“Bingo.”
A sudden breeze swirled the powder around us. Themist settled against her face, melting into droplets that ran down over her smooth, feminine mouth.
“You never would’ve worked it off, you know,” she huffed, softly. “Donovan wouldn’t have let you. He collects assets, remember? He’s not in the habit of giving them up.”
I answered with a nod. “By the time I figured that out, it was already too late.”
“It’s never too late,” Peyton replied smoothly. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
I let my eyes wander the mountain-flanked plain of ice and snow. Sure as shit, Iwashere.
All thanks to her.
“That’s why you beat that guy so badly,” Peyton murmured. “Back at the fishing shack.”
