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“He can call or text me directly. Please.”

“Are you all right, Luna?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’m fine. I’m with Rage and Grim. I’m not worried about my safety. Yet.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I will. After Jonas looks at the footage.”

“It may take him a while. I don’t know what the duty roster is back home.”

“Please, tell him it’s important.”

“I will. Hang tight.”

He disconnects, and I stand there for a few seconds, breathing in and out. Slowly. Attempting not to freak right the fuck out.

I only heard part of that conversation but what else could “ness protection” mean other than witness protection? And who else in this room is in the program? Obviously, there could be any number of people, but that’s statistically unlikely. I’m not sure about the online business stuff but I’m starting to believe things are not what they seem with Garth.

I know I’m not crazy.

Hormones don’t make you have huge memory lapses. They don’t make you hallucinate sounds. They don’t make you lose your mind. I know that’s a generalization and there aren’t a lot of facts to back up these things, but I know myself. I’ve been dealing with PMOS all of my adult life—and I’m not crazy. Emotional, yes. Out of my mind? No.

And now I’m going to prove it. Or rather, Jonas is hopefully going to prove it so no one can say I went looking for issues and found them. So no one can blame this shit on my hormones. Or any other thing. I don’t even know exactly what I’m looking for. I know what I heard Garth say but I can’t jump to conclusions.

If someone from my past has found me, I don’t know what I’m going to do, but most likely I’m going to have to run and leave my entire life behind. Leave Elliott behind.

Unless…would he go with me?

I close my eyes and pull in a shaky breath.

I can’t think about that. Not until I know for sure.

Then I may have to make decisions that will change everything.

And not in a good way.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Rage

This morning is the weigh-in, and I’m both annoyed and excited about it.

Annoyed because it’s all about shit talking and posturing—essentially a dick measuring contest with no purpose because nothing matters except what happens during the fight. Also, this isn’t even a sanctioned fight, so there’s no point to any of the extras but Garth feels strongly about doing things “the right way.”

On the flip side, I’m excited because the fight is tonight and I’m looking forward to knocking the snot out of Guerin and then getting the fuck out of here. He’s been a pain in my ass the entire time leading up to the event. Instead of having fun with it, he’s been running his mouth like there’s some kind of championship or actual money on the line. I’ve rolled my eyes so many times, I’m afraid they’re going to come out the other side of my head.

“Should I go sit with the others?” Luna asks me when we arrive at the venue.

“No.” I shake my head. “I want you at my side through all of this, except when I’m actually in the cage. Even then, I’d like you to sit in the front row where I can see you.”

“Okay.” She nods but I can tell she’s distracted. There’s been something on her mind but when I tried to pry it out of her last night, she shifted gears and seduced me. Not that it took much to make that happen—I’m still thinking about that damn pink dress.

“This brings back some memories,” Grim says, nudging me back to reality.

“Sure does.” I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t miss parts of this. The fighting, most of all, but also the accolades. It’s nice to be recognized for something you’re good at. I probably liked that part more than I should have.

What I didn’t like was how overboard some fans would go. Following me home. Sending letters and gifts. Trying to sleep with me or just be in my general vicinity. That sounds like fun when you’re twenty-something and single. In my late thirties, with a steady girlfriend, I don’t want to deal with all that.