When I suggested he turn his forty-year-old boxing club into an all-combat style gym, I thought he was gonna throw me out. But eventually—and only after I taught a few classes and pulledin a little extra business—he conceded. Didn’t hurt that I offered to work for free.
“The kids seemed to like your class the other night,” he says. “It’s good. They’ll learn to respect the fight. Get their anger out in the ring instead of on the playground.”
“Teach ’em young.” I nod at the box under his arm. “You lock up after you leave. I don’t like all that money in there. It’ll be my ass down here tomorrow morning taking your statement if it gets swiped, so save me the paperwork, yeah?”
“This is the safest neighbourhood in town, Lincoln,” he says with a wink. “Nobody’s gonna break in here. Not when they got me to deal with.”
Walt may be a force to be reckoned with—or was in his heyday—but the real threat is theotherclub down the road. South Bay’s west end belongs to the Sinners. Which means all the businesses within its boundaries are under Sinner protection. For a fee, of course. But nobody wants to fuck with that kind of smoke.
I smile. “Save some fight for the rest of us, old man.”
With a wave, he disappears through the gym doors.
Shaking my head, I turn into the dark alley next to the building. Before my eyes can adjust, though, I’m met with a punch to my gut, and the wind gets knocked from my lungs. As I fold in two, a pair of hands grab at my collar, and I’m flung headfirst into a brick wall, then thrown to the ground.
On instinct, I spider crawl back, my vision spotty, my ears ringing.
I already know who’s coming for me. This is a Sinner hit. Who their prez sent, though, will dictate how this plays out.
“Hey, Decker.”
When I recognize the voice, relief swims in my chest, and with a harsh breath in, I sprawl out on the cold asphalt.
“Hey, Preach.”
Bane would have had a knife. Tex would have aimed for my dick. Jack or Brick would have gone for the face. Though my brother probably would have let me get a shot in first.
By far, Preacher is my favourite Sinner. They all take turns roughing me up, but he’s the only one who holds back a little.
“Need a minute?” he asks.
“Maybe just one,” I cough out, my hands splayed out on the rough surface beneath me.
He hums as he leans up against the building, waiting. Quiet as usual.
“Catch the Jays game last night?” I rasp.
“Mm-hmm.” He lights up a smoke and exhales a white cloud. “They’ve been breaking my heart all season.”
“They’ll turn it around. Always do.”
“Only to fuck it up at the end. Always dothattoo.”
With a grunt of agreement, I pull in an extra-large inhale, testing my lungs. When I’m sure I’ve got my breath back, I push up and stand to my full height. I roll out my shoulders, move my neck from side to side, loosen my muscles.
Preacher may be a little more pleasant than the rest of those fucks, but he’s still a Sinner, and he’s here to kick my ass. Retaliation for Grace. Figured Donovan would respond eventually. Allen crossed a line. You don’t throw around a girl like her without consequences.
“All right. Let’s do this,” I say, eyeing the heavy rings on Preacher’s tattooed hands. I crack my knuckles and take another slow breath, preparing my body for what’s coming next.
“I’m just the appetizer tonight, Deck.” He jerks his head towards the end of the alleyway, where it’s much, much darker. “Axe wants a word.”
My gut drops out. Fuck my fucking life.
If Axel Donovan wants to talk, it’s because he wants something from me.
I’d rather take the fucking beating.
With a sigh, I tread deeper into the alley. When his outline comes into focus, I stop, my muscles locking up of their own accord. The dude got jacked in prison. I haven’t been this close to him since he got out a month ago, but Jesus. I should stick him and Allen in a room together and let them at it. Maybe they’d kill each other and I’d finally get some goddamn peace.
