Fighting Dirty (Ultimate #4) Page 8

  Leaning in, his voice faint, Justice asked, “Want me to see if Harper has anything that’ll remove marker?”

  “No.” Good God. The last thing he wanted was Harper asking questions. He’d take care of removing it at home, alone. And seriously, he should give some thought to putting Rissy over his knee.

  In a rush, their conversation about spanking came flooding back and he scrubbed a hand over his face. She wasn’t into it and he wasn’t into hurting her. If he got her pants off her again, he could think of a lot more interesting things to do with that bared tush.

  But seriously, one good swat might be in order.

  Annoyed at the path of his thoughts, Armie said, “Keep watch while I get dressed.”

  Both fighters, arms crossed, did as asked. But damn it, Armie could feel their censure while he quickly pulled on boxers and then jeans and then, for good measure¸ a T-shirt. He tugged the hem of the shirt down to ensure nothing, not a speck of flesh showed.

  When he finished, he turned to the guys. They stood there, lips curled, eyes narrowed, biceps bunched.

  He glared at them both again. “It’s a joke, okay?”

  Leese glared back. “If you say so.”

  “Hell of a joke,” Justice added.

  God, he hated explaining himself to anyone. And if Rissy wasn’t involved, he wouldn’t bother. But she was, and Armie couldn’t bear the thought of anyone thinking whatever they were thinking.

  “You know she was robbed, right? At the bank, I mean.”

  They both nodded.

  “Well, I was there.”

  “Heard all about it,” Justice said. His gaze went to Armie’s head. “That’s how you got your noggin knocked and that big bruise on your back.”

  “Yeah. Well, after going through that, Rissy didn’t want to be home alone last night. Since Yvette just announced they’re expecting, I guess she felt like she’d be intruding to go to her brother’s. So she came to my place. I was already in my underwear when she got there, and drunk as shit, and I passed out on her. Must be when she wrote that.”

  The tension eased out of their stances, and Justice even grinned. “Man, she got you good.”

  “So until just now,” Leese asked, still sounding skeptical, “you didn’t know it was there?”

  “Had no clue. You think I’d go advertising that?” Especially with Cannon nearby. Hell, Cannon and Rissy were the two most important people in his world. He’d never do anything to embarrass or malign either of them.

  But when he got hold of Rissy…

  “Lady in the hall,” Harper called out.

  Armie strode over to the doorway. “Trying to get a peek?”

  “Now, Armie. Would I announce myself if that’s what I wanted?” She held out his phone with a receipt. “They only had to replace the screen. Good as new.”

  Armie repaid her. “You’re a dream, Harper. You know that, right?”

  She stuffed the bills in her pocket, blew him a kiss and took off again.

  When he walked back in, Cannon joined them. “Good show today, Armie. You impressed Jude.”

  “Wasn’t my intent to impress anyone.” He hadn’t altered his workout except to add the extra sparring Jude had requested.

  Grinning, Cannon said, “You did anyway.”

  While he dressed, Justice and Leese said their farewells and took off, leaving Armie and Cannon alone in the showers.

  “Rissy called,” Cannon said. “I asked her to check in every so often.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “All right, I guess. But she’s too stubborn to tell me otherwise.” Cannon finger combed back his hair, then let a fist drop against the locker. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

  “I’m there with you.” The fact that someone had manhandled Rissy, threatened her, kept an uneasy turbulence churning inside Armie. “Any word from the detectives?”

  “Not yet, no.” Cannon turned his head to face Armie. “You were there. You think it’s possible it was more than a robbery?”

  Over and over, it had played in Armie’s mind. “I honestly don’t know. I mean, one guy seemed to make a beeline for Rissy. I’d just noticed that he closed the door on her office when the other guy pulled the gun. But I don’t see how that setup helped them. I get that she’s a manager, but why separate her from the others?”

  “I don’t know.” Cannon sat on the bench and pulled on his shoes. “I have a bad feeling about it.”

  Cannon had a lot of contacts on the street, but mostly in the neighborhood surrounding the rec center. Whether or not those contacts would be of use for a bank robbery, Armie didn’t know. Thanks to their combined efforts, these days there was less crime and more enterprise. But on the outskirts of their small town, the criminal element still thrived. “You have feelers out?”

  “Yeah. And I know Reese and Logan are on it. But I’m not going to rest easy until they catch the bastards.”

  “And until that happens, Rissy’s going to keep checking in with you?”

  Cannon shrugged. “She’s understanding about it.”

  “She knows you love her.”

  Cannon went quiet again, then said, “Thanks for keeping an eye on her last night. I appreciate it.”

  Armie almost choked. “No problem.” It amazed him that Cannon wasn’t raising holy hell about his sis being alone with someone of his ilk. But then, he probably had no idea that Rissy had peeled off her pants, insisted on sleeping plastered against him, asked about sex games and left her MO emblazoned on his ass.

  “It might cramp your style, but if she asks again—”

  “I’ll look out for her,” Armie promised. He’d do whatever he thought was best to protect her—even if it meant protecting her from him. “You know that.”

  “Yeah.” Cannon watched him. “I do.” Putting that discussion aside, Cannon switched gears. “I’m looking forward to hearing what Jude has to say.”

  Armie eyed his best friend. “You know it’s going to be some idiotic promo shit they want me to do.” And he hated it. Not the camera—he’d never minded that. But the dog and pony show wasn’t his way.

  “Maybe,” Cannon conceded. “Promo is good. Since we finally got you in the SBC we might as well ensure you make a big splash.” But since he knew that wasn’t what Armie wanted, Cannon clapped him on the shoulder. “Try having a little faith, okay? You have the organization behind you. That counts for a lot.”

  “If you say so.”

  Together they went back into the main gym and met up with Jude, who wanted to take them to a nearby diner to talk “away from everyone else.” Sounded ominous to Armie, but what the hell. He had time yet.

  The diner surprised him. It was a local family-run place. Armie had been there before, but for a man of Jamison’s stature, a freaking movie star, as Harper had pointed out, it seemed pretty humble.

  Recognizing the direction of Armie’s thoughts, Jude said, “I don’t want to be recognized, and I don’t want to keep you long. I assume this place is okay with the two of you?”

  “I know the owners,” Cannon said. “They’re good people.”

  “And they serve killer homemade soups,” Armie added. “Just didn’t seem like your speed.”

  “I was a fighter before I hit Hollywood. And believe me, I prefer the fight circuit a hell of a lot more.”

  Once they were seated in the back corner booth with drinks in front of them, cola for Jude, lemon water for Cannon and Armie, Jude got down to business. Hands folded on the table, leaning in, he addressed Armie. “You know I was once accused of murder.”

  Whoa. Definitely not what he’d been expecting. With dread, Armie figured he knew now where this was going. “Everyone’s heard. You were also cleared.”

  “Yes, but to much of the world it didn’t matter.” He looked at his hands. “Everyone thought I’d just gotten away with it. That I’d somehow bought my freedom.”

  With conviction, Cannon said, “Everyone was wrong.”

  That made J
ude smile. “Yes, they were wrong. But you just reinforced my point.” He looked at Armie again. “When all of Hollywood and most of the world continued to accuse me, the SBC stood behind me. They were my family, my friends, there to support me. They knew me and believed in me.”

  Armie sat back in his seat.

  “They’d be there for you, too.”

  Well, hell. Somehow, Jude Jamison had uncovered his deepest, darkest secrets. “You know, don’t you?”

  Jamison nodded. “Simon and Havoc told me you were tough to nail down, and that although you’d signed on, you still seemed to be resisting. Throughout my career I’ve worked with a lot of hard cases, guys teetering on a life of crime, trying to clean up their lives.”

  “That’s not Armie.”

  Again, always, Cannon was quick to defend him. He turned to Cannon now. “I’m guessing he already knows part of it or we wouldn’t be here.”

  Jude shrugged. “I got curious. After what Simon and Havoc told me, that you had all the right tools to be a champion but no real desire to make it happen…well, it didn’t sound plausible.”

  Armie scoffed. “Believe me, I’ll do what I can to win the fight.” He didn’t know how to fight any other way. “If you’re worried about that—”

  “I’m not. The thing is, I want you to want it, too.”

  Enthusiasm? Was that what Jude needed to see?

  “I watched a few of your fights,” Jude admitted. “I haven’t seen many with your raw talent. So I checked into your background. It was easy enough to find out why you’re hanging back.”

  “I’m not.” Jesus. He’d signed on. What more did the SBC want?

  “You’re not full-go,” Jude insisted. “Not yet. But we’ll get you there.”

  Talking about it always made Armie edgy with suppressed rage. The urge to walk off clawed at him. But damn it, he’d walked away so many times, from so many opportunities.

  “The SBC has resources.” Jude gave him a level look. “And I have resources.”

  Oh, hell no. Armie didn’t want Jamison using his own funds to defend him.

  Jamison held up a hand before Armie could protest. “False accusations are personal to me.”

  “And they were false,” Cannon assured him.

  Jamison half smiled. “I drew that conclusion all on my own after I found out all the details, including how you, Cannon, helped to back down the accusers.”

  “Temporarily,” Cannon clarified. “They said they’d dredge it all back up if Armie didn’t disappear.”

  “Let them try. They think money and clout gives them leeway to spread lies. I look forward to proving them wrong.”

  “Damn.” Armie had thought that whole episode of his life was completely buried—and would stay that way as long as he kept out of the limelight. “You must have some great contacts to know so much about it.”

  “The best money can buy,” Jamison stated. “So what do you say? Will you dive in and give it your all?”

  He didn’t relish the idea of reliving that particular hell.

  “Until you do,” Cannon told him, “it’ll always be there.”

  “True words,” Jamison agreed. “A woman taught me that. Until she came into the picture I was content to ignore the sensationalizing media and the scum-sucking liars. I’ve never regretted the decision to finally fight back, because now she’s my wife.”

  The claws of uncertainty retracted a bit. “She never believed the lies?”

  “Not even for a second.”

  Cannon clasped Armie’s forearm. “You’re better than them. I’ve always known it. Now you need to know it, too.”

  “And then you can show the world.”

  Armie had come to expect Cannon’s unwavering support. But Jude Jamison’s? That left him perplexed. “Some accusations have a way of hanging with a guy.”

  “Like being called a murderer,” Jamison confirmed. “But it’s past time to shake it off.” He held out his hand. “Agreed?”

  Armie hesitated, but damn it, he knew Cannon was right. He’d had enough of that particular shadow hanging over him. “All right, Jamison.” He took his hand. “Thank you.”

  “Call me Jude. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of me so we might as well be friends.”

  Just how involved did Jude plan to be? “You don’t say.”

  “I’ve invested in the sport, you know that. Well, Armie, now I’m going to invest in you. And as anyone can tell you, I’m good with money.”

  They spent another half an hour talking about his opponent, Carter Fletcher. According to Jude, Carter had the second-best camp and representation in the business. He was quickly making a name for himself and a lot of behind-the-scenes people were saying he’d soon get a shot at the championship belt.

  Armie had never been all that interested in a belt. For the longest time his focus had been on working at the rec center and dominating in every smaller-venue fight in the tristate area. He’d had enough trouble adjusting to the idea of throwing himself into the SBC without leaping ahead to thoughts of a title shot.

  Jude, however, had other plans. He expected Armie to win, and win big. Sketched within a short time frame, he’d drawn a path for Armie to go straight to the top.

  For the very first time, Armie decided he wanted it. And there was something else he wanted. Something he’d craved for too damn long, something he’d denied himself because he hadn’t deserved it.

  Merissa. Naked, in his bed.

  Merissa—maybe forever.

  If he could really have a second chance, if he could win the belt, maybe he could have Merissa, too.

  Though the old fear still existed, for once he was ready to ignore it and go after what he wanted instead.

  But it wouldn’t be fair to go there without her first knowing everything. And if they were alone at his apartment, he wasn’t sure they’d get around to talking.

  As to that, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go into it all tonight. He needed some time to come to grips with the changes, to figure how to explain it to her. If she didn’t trust him, if she didn’t believe in him, it would level him as nothing else could.

  One thing at a time, he decided, no matter how it might kill him to wait.

  With that decision made he drove toward her house, his intent to put her off at least until tomorrow. Lunch, maybe. Yeah, they could have a conversation over lunch. In a crowded restaurant.

  Where he wouldn’t be tempted to strip off her clothes.

  Unfortunately, when he pulled up to her house, he saw her ex, Steve, standing on the stoop talking to her.

  What the hell? She’d dumped that loser months ago, so why was he here now? Standing so close. Smiling at her. Schmoozing.

  Whatever plans Armie had made disappeared like vapor. Steve was a creep, but Rissy might not know that because he’d never told her.

  Another idiotic decision—one he could set straight right away.

  *

  AFTER A GRUELING, nerve-racking day at work, Merissa wanted nothing more than to escape her own jitters. It shamed her that every time the front door of the bank had opened, tension had dug into her spine, leaving her heart racing and her palms clammy.

  Her tellers, who were all nervous, needed her to lead by example. She didn’t want to be a coward so she’d done her best to hide the reactions, especially when talking to her brother. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking that the robbers might return. Everything they’d done had felt so personal, as if they’d come specifically for her, not just to rob the bank.

  Detectives Riske and Bareden had assured her that the police would make frequent drive-bys to check on things. The FBI even had a plainclothes officer keeping watch, occasionally inside the bank.

  None of that had mattered to the fear that repeatedly surged to the surface.

  By the time she’d left the bank she felt so tightly coiled she wanted to scream. Even at her house, with the security system on, she hadn’t been able to regain her calm. Part of that
, she knew, was living alone. Her bilevel home was fixed up so that she could live on the upper floor and, until recently, Cherry had lived on the lower level. But once Cherry and Denver married, the space became empty and she hadn’t so far rented it out again.

  The long, warm shower that should have been relaxing instead left her straining her ears listening for any unfamiliar sounds.

  By the time she’d dried her hair and dressed casually in jeans and a fitted T-shirt, stuffed a few necessities into a tote bag, and gotten out the door, all she could think about was seeing Armie again.

  Unfortunately, she’d found Steve, a very unwelcome ex, coming up the walkway. And for the past five minutes she’d been attempting in vain to get rid of him.

  “I’m concerned for you, Merissa.” He reached out to touch the bruise on her face, but she leaned away. Lips pressed together, he dropped his hand. “After the robbery yesterday you have to be shaken.”

  “No, I’m fine.” And I’m a good liar—but it wasn’t Steve she wanted to comfort her. They hadn’t been together for months so why he thought he could waltz back in now, faking concern, she didn’t know. “I’m running late so if you don’t mind—”

  “Merissa,” he said in a tone as thick as honey. “I know you better than that.” His gaze went to her house. “And didn’t you lose your roommate? You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I’m not.” Another big lie, but no way did she want Steve to think she’d be the only one in the house. “And really, Steve, it’s not your concern. We’re over.”

  “But still friends.”

  “Since when?”

  He sighed. “I don’t blame you for being bitter. The way I treated you—”

  “I’m not bitter,” she said from between her teeth. “I’m not anything—except in a hurry.”

  Just then, she recognized Armie’s truck as he pulled up to the curb and her frustration mounted. She didn’t need a conflict between the two men and worse, if Armie was here to cancel on her, she’d… Well, she didn’t know what she’d do. Maybe try insisting.

  But he wouldn’t be drunk now and that meant her odds of swaying him to her way of thinking were greatly diminished.