“You live up here?”
“Just on the weekends. During the week I live with my dad and Shanna.” He heard the contempt in her voice when she said the name.
“Not too crazy ’bout your dad’s wife?”
“And they say all muscle men are dumb.”
Normally her attitude would start to piss him off, but he heard such bitterness and loneliness in her voice that he wanted to reach out to her. He knew very well how easily life could throw a multitude of shitty curves. “So are you gonna show me your face? I don’t like talking to a head of hair.” Her small chuckle touched him, but she didn’t move the hair off her face.
He stood up and walked over to her, bending down as he gently moved her hair away. Cupping her chin, he tilted her head back and gazed into the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. They weren’t enhanced with makeup, and they were even prettier up close.
Staring into their depths, he saw distrust and fear.
“No need to be scared of me. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he whispered as he scanned her face. She didn’t wear a stitch of makeup except for a swipe of gloss on her lips. He surmised that her flawless skin, high cheekbones, straight nose, and perfectly arched eyebrows would make her the envy of most women. “You’re a beautiful woman,” he muttered.
She jerked her head away. “Don’t say that to me!”
Taken aback, he straightened up. “Why not?”
“Just don’t.” She turned her head and stared out the window.
“Sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.”I’m apologizing for calling her beautiful. That’s pretty fucked.“You got a name?”
“Fallon,” she said softly. “You?” She darted her eyes at him, then away again.
“Diablo.” He grinned when she looked at him for more than a millisecond.
“I didn’t know anyone ever named their kid ‘Devil.’ That’s pretty cool.” She licked her lips and then looked down. “I like your tattoos.”
Fuck, she’s cute. I can’t remember the last time a girl was so shy around me.“I’m glad you like ’em. I got more on my chest and back. Do you have any tats?”
Shaking her head, she glanced up. “No. All the ring girls have them. Some of them are real pretty. I don’t like needles. I guess I’m chicken.”
He laughed. “I’m not gonna lie to you and tell you they don’t hurt, ’cause they do. It’s worth it, though. They’re a form of expression you wear on your skin. I’m gonna get a couple more.”
Giving him a weak smile, she started rubbing her arm again. Then their time together ended when Shanna bustled in.
“There you are. Your dad’s been looking all over for you. He’s so pissed. You forgot to put out the towels and rags. You better get your ass movin’.” While she spoke, she ran her gaze over Diablo, slowly walking toward him. “And my hubby’s looking for you too.” She ran her finger down his arm. “You’re looking mighty fine, Diablo.”
Diablo glanced at Fallon who’d jumped up, panic etching her face. Shanna looked from him to Fallon, then back to him. Redness covered her face as her eyes narrowed. “Get downstairs. Now. I’m gonna tell your dadexactlywhat you were doing when you should’ve been working.”
Fallon rushed to the door. “Fallon,” Diablo said. She stopped and turned around. “It was good talking to you.” He threw her a warm smile, loving the way her cheeks colored before she smiled back and then disappeared out the door.
“Fucking unbelievable,” Shanna fumed. He’d forgotten she was there. He turned to her, his face hard. She tossed her hair over her shoulders, the anger dissipating from her face. Stepping closer to him, she smiled. “Fallon is such a pathetic girl. Her whole existence begs for pity. Thanks for being nice to her. I know it wasn’t what you wanted to do on your break.”
Diablo brushed away from her and walked out of the room, then dashed down the stairs and entered the fight room. He spotted the large punching bag hanging from the ceiling at the back of the room, near the back door. He went over and pummeled the bag over and over until sweat soaked his T-shirt.
“What’s going on, amigo?” Jose asked as he came from behind him. “A few of the fighters are here so we gotta hustle. You practicing for hitting some people tonight?” His laugh was tight.
Breathing heavily, Diablo stepped away from the punching bag. He felt better. He figured it was better than rearranging the plastic bitch’s face. Grabbing the towel Jose handed him, he wiped his face, neck, and arms. “Is there a shower around here?”
“In the back room. Be quick about it. You need another shirt?”
“I’m good. I carry spares in my saddlebags.” As he walked to the back room, he looked around for Fallon, but she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She intrigued the hell out of him. He thought he’d talk to her and satisfy his curiosity, but he found that he wanted to see and speak with her more. He hoped he’d be able to see her again before the night ended.
Two hours later, the fights were in full swing and the place was more crowded than the week before. Goldie and Muerto had come along with the brothers who were there the previous week. They all had taken Diablo’s tip seriously and placed their heavy bets on Spider, cheering when they won a load of money.
During the break, the ring girls took to their stages and wriggled their buttocks for the audience that was mostly men. Goldie and Chains came over to Diablo, waving their winnings at him.
