So good, I didn’t even look at my own as I wrote my report. This girl had been meticulous, with her bullet points and highlights. She went above and beyond, and it pissed me off. I couldn’t even explain why. It wasn’t guilt. I didn’t feel guilty over having this hold on Zadie. Not in the least. Hopefully she’d walk away at the end of the semester having learned to be more selective in who she let inside her. No more Elliott fucking Schiffers in her life or her bed.
Heels clicking upstairs turned my attention from the screen to the ceiling. She was up there now, getting ready to go out with us. That was after she’d cooked us dinner and folded my laundry. After she’d laughed with Julien, spoken softly to Marco, and barely looked at me. She’d barely looked at me since all this began, so that wasn’t new.
Every time she was in my house, ants crawled under my skin. She was too good. Too sweet. Too pretty. Too smart. Being in the same room with her made me want to tear shit apart. My mind needed to be elsewhere, focusing on the fight I was facing in a couple hours, or, at the very fucking least, on the paper I was attempting to pound out, but every time those heels clicked, I was back to Zadie and all the ways she was too.
A cabinet slamming, followed by a grunt and clattering on the granite counter had me shutting off my laptop and striding into the kitchen.
Julien shoved Marco hard, knocking him back a couple steps. “Fuck off. That bitch is mine.”
“We both know you snuck down here last night and ate half a dozen,” Marco gritted out.
Julien thumped his chest. “I didn’t sneak. I marched my happy ass down here and ate all the crumbs. The crumbs you left on the counter after you snuck your ass down here.”
Marco clicked his tongue. “That’s only because I knew you’d be a sneaky little shit and keep all that lemony goodness to yourself. And I was right.”
I slammed a hand down on the granite. “Enough. Do I live with toddlers? Look at you.” Shouldering them out of the way, I grabbed the plate holding the last lemon bar and stalked to the other side of the island. “If anyone’s eating this lemon bar, it’s me. Pretty sure my pet baked it for me.”
I shoved the entire bar into my mouth, using my middle fingers.
Marco and Julien turned on me, looking prepared to murder me. It was Saturday night, we all had more important shit to be fighting over than baked goods, but none of us were backing down. Between the two of them, they’d packed away twenty lemon bars since Zadie had left them here last night.
“I hope you get nailed in the gut and spew lemon all over the place,” Julien sneered, but there was no real heat behind it. No doubt he’d enjoy the hell out of seeing me take a gut shot tonight, though.
Marco shook his head. “You never eat before a fight.”
I scrubbed my hand over my mouth. “Never had anything good to eat.”
Julien patted his stomach. “Gonna get fat and happy with that girl coming around every night, and I’m gonna love every minute of it. Maybe I’ll get her to make me my own dessert next time so I don’t have to share with you two assholes.”
“Never happening.” I slowly shook my head. “She’s here for me. You’re lucky I share what I do. That’s all you’ll ever get from her.”
Rubbing the top of his head, Marco exchanged a glance with Julien. “What about when you’re done with her?” he asked.
My fingers dug into my palms. “If that happens, we’ll talk about it then.”
Julien raised his eyebrows. “If? Are you thinking you’re going to have a human pet forever?”
“That’s not your concern.” The thing that sucked about knowing him since we were kids was he wasn’t intimidated by me. I could hold a gun to his head, tell him to get fucked, and he knew with one-hundred-percent certainty I’d never pull the trigger. Therefore, the glare I shot him only served to amuse him when anyone else would have been pissing their pants.
“You’re keeping that girl indefinitely?” Julien pressed.
“I’ll do whatever the hell I want with her. You don’t question me when I throw away an old pair of sneakers, don’t give me shit about her.”
Marco hissed. Julien glowered. “What the fuck? You’re equating Zadie to raggedy-ass sneakers?”
I folded my arms. “Zadie is my property, nothing more. What don’t you understand?”
Movement in the door had all three of us whipping our heads in that direction. Zadie was there, her cheeks flushed crimson, winding the hem of her shirt around her fingers. She looked all pretty and sad, and it churned a frothing ball of fire in my gut.
“Hey, I just wanted to let you know I’m ready to go when you are.” Teeth clamped on her bottom lip. “I’ll wait outside so you can finish up your conversation.”
She wasted no time darting toward the front door, and Marco groaned. “If she cries, I’m gonna be mad uncomfortable, man.”
“She knows where she stands in this situation.” I refused to be apologetic for anything I said. It wasn’t like I hadn’t said the exact same thing to Zadie’s face. “If she cries, it won’t be from anything I said.”
“Mad uncomfortable,” Marco muttered.
Julien shook his head. “You definitely didn’t deserve that lemon bar.”
My fists tightened. This was finished. It was time to spill some blood.
Reno ran fights in his warehouses. They were big, hyped up, and mostly illegal. Like the rest of his businesses, he’d inherited the fights from our uncle, along with the cops he paid to look the other way. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t been raided—he absolutely had—but evidence managed to get lost, and charges were always dropped. Illegal fight rings were the least of Reno’s crimes, and they weren’t a high priority for Savage River’s law enforcement.
The first time I stepped in a ring had been by force. When I was sixteen, Reno had been pissed at me for something trivial, and my punishment was going head to head with a thirty-year-old wall of solid muscle. I’d gotten my ass handed to me. My nose still didn’t sit right, and my jaw creaked when I opened my mouth too wide, but I fucking loved the rush of it. I’d gotten addicted, even having the shit pounded out of me. Since that first fight, I’d trained, and had gotten stronger and faster. Now, I chose my opponents and when I fought. Tonight was my first in a month.
I needed it.
Cold fury had settled in my belly, and nothing I did would dissipate it. My limbs were jittery, needing action. My muscles were primed for exertion. Walking inside the warehouse, which was now an arena, and smelling the familiar scents of bodies, dirt, and old, coppery blood got my head swimming.
Julien and Marco were slightly in front of me with Zadie tucked between them. Julien had his hand on her shoulder. Touching my pet. Maybe it was in a friendly way, but friendly was unacceptable, especially after the way he’d been bucking against my ownership of Zadie over the course of the week.
“Zadie,” I barked, and her shoulders jumped. “Come here.”
She tipped her head up to Julien, as if asking his permission, and that was not acceptable. He very much fucking knew that, which was why he pushed her toward me without sparing her a glance. I took her hand in mine, the softness of it making a crack in my anger. Once I had her and Julien didn’t, I held her gently and slowed my pace so she didn’t have to scamper in her heels.
“I’m fighting tonight. Your job is to help get me ready, show me your pretty face while I’m fighting, and be there after I win to cool me down.” We trailed around the ring, which was nothing more than a roped off diamond in the center of the room. When a fighter went down, he ate concrete. It’d been a while since I’d tasted it, but it wasn’t easy to forget.
It was early, so the stands hadn’t filled, but there were already people around. Some stopped to greet me and my boys, others nodded with respect. Marco went off to talk to someone he knew, and Julien stayed on the other side of Zadie. I wasn’t happy with him, but at least I could be certain he’d keep her safe while I was in the ring.
“I have to watch the fight?” she asked.
“Yes.” I peered down at her. She’d put on makeup for this. Lipstick a shade or two darker than her natural color. Something gray swept across her eyes, making them unnaturally big and bright. Something shiny above her cheekbones, pink on her cheeks. It was pretty, sexy, classy, and I had to fight the unexplainable urge to grab a towel and wash it all off. “That’s part of why I brought you here. I want to hear you cheering for me while I fight. I want that sweet voice to get as loud as I know it can.”
Her hand stiffened in mine. I only held her tighter. “Shut up, Amir.”
I chuckled. “That wasn’t so sweet, little mama.”
“I’m not always sweet,” she replied.
“Good. That’s mine.”
On the other side of the arena, behind a set of bleachers, was an entrance to what had once been offices but were now makeshift dressing rooms. Mine was empty, with only a couple chairs, a table, a stack of clean towels, and a few bottles of water.
A couple of the other fighters took my appearance as an invitation to come inside and socialize. It was normal for me. I never had a problem with it. But Zadie was with me tonight. I wanted her to have space from the hardened men who took part in Reno’s fights. Men like me. I let her move away from me to take a seat in the corner of the room when I got into it with a pair of guys I’d fought and defeated multiple times. They were decent fighters and always presented a challenge. Got me just the right amount of bloody, but not enough to win.
“Yo, my boy.” Reno sauntered into the room, his two guards at his back.
I moved forward, clasped his hand, and patted him on the back. “S’up, man. How’s it looking out there?”
He nodded, the ice in his ears glinting in the light. Reno had taken to wearing custom-made suits and oversized diamond stud earrings. He looked good, but incredibly douchey at the same time. Probably because he was all of twenty-four with snakeskin loafers he wore without socks. It was a look…or something, but I wasn’t a fan. The Reno I grew up with, the soccer playing, grubby punk kid, would have taken one look at grown-up Reno and laughed his ass off.
“All good, man. How’re you feeling, brother?” He raised his brows, and I heard the real question. Was I going to win him a shitload of money tonight?
“Feeling loose and ready.” I rolled my shoulders and flexed my fingers. I had some time, but yeah, I’d be ready.
“Good, good. Just don’t take him down too early. Let him get in there. Give them a show.”
He was asking me to take some hits so the fight wasn’t over too soon. It was an easy request for him to make when it wasn’t his body taking the blows. But I’d never minded a little bit of pain, not in the ring or out of it.
“I can make that happen.”
With a sharp nod, Reno’s focus shifted to a spot in the room behind me. From the glimmer in his eyes, I knew exactly what he was seeing.
“Who’s that sweet little thing you’re hiding in the corner, Amir?” he asked.
I turned, holding my hand out. “Zadie. Come.”
She pushed forward and rose from her seat. My back was turned to him, but Reno’s groan couldn’t be mistaken. I saw what he saw. Zadie had ditched her girly little skirts for a pair of black skinny jeans that hugged her thick thighs, round hips, and ass, and cinched high on her waist. When she walked on her high heels, those round hips swayed. I could say with certainty she wasn’t even doing it on purpose, but she was fucking doing it.
She wore a pale-blue T-shirt on top, with a low V, and two long necklaces that kept dipping between her tits—full, plush tits that were another taste I’d never, ever forget. And with her soft, chestnut hair cascading down her shoulders and back in loose waves, Zadie had the modern pinup thing going with her own achingly sweet spin.
Reno liked flash, girls like Vanessa. Zadie wasn’t anything like Vanessa. She was stunningly beautiful, though. Her beauty was quiet, but it was unmissable. The thing that drove me most crazy about her was she had no fucking idea what she looked like. She didn’t see the heads she turned or men she left on their asses. She’d wrapped up Julien and Marco within days, and my boys weren’t the kind to get wrapped up.
So, yeah, I saw what Reno saw and knew my brother well enough not to like him seeing what was mine. Even if Zadie was only my pet, she was still mine, not open for the taking.
Zadie came to me, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, tucking her to my side.
Reno’s lids went half-mast, and his nostrils flared like he was trying to inhale her from three feet away.
“Zadie, this is my brother, Reno. Reno, my girl.” She went still, and her little gasp was audible.
Reno gave Zadie a long, slow once-over. “She’s yours?”
I inclined my chin. “She’s mine. My girl.” Zadie’s arm circled my waist, and she pressed in deeper to my side. Yeah, she was smart, choosing me as the lesser of two evils. Reno would tear her apart like tissue paper. It was just who he was.
That was why I’d claimed her, right here, right now. If Zadie hadn’t been mine, Reno would have sunk his teeth into her so fast, she wouldn’t have known it had happened until he’d ripped a chunk out of her. He would have seen her as ripe for the picking—and he would have picked. A little power in him, and Reno had become insatiable. But beneath it all, he was still my brother, and he respected me enough to leave those who were mine be. That had only been Marco and Julien. Until now. I’d added Zadie to that list, whether either of us wanted it.
“All right, all right. Nice.” The corners of his mouth tipped. “Vanessa’s going to shit herself when she sees you with her.”
I scoffed. “Vanessa was never my girl.”
Reno chuckled. “I fucking hope not, since I had my dick in her last weekend. That would have been awkward.” His eyes slid to Zadie. “Nice to meet you, mami chula. Take care of my brother, all right? I’m watching.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Zadie replied softly.
Reno grinned lasciviously at me. “Oh shit, you landed a shy girl?” He clapped his hands. “I fucking love it. Bet you she gets wild when you get her alone. I’m proud of you, baby brother.”
He wagged a finger at Zadie. “Let’s hope you’re Amir’s good luck charm so he can make bank for me tonight. I’m counting on you to do his body good, shorty.”
A few more words, and Reno was out, probably to make his way around to all the rooms to hold court like the king he saw himself as.
As soon as he left the room, I turned on Zadie, holding both her shoulders. “When I’m fighting, you don’t go anywhere by yourself. You need to stay with Marco and Julien. I can’t worry about you when I’m up there.”
Her head tilted, sending a mass of curls over her shoulder. “Why would you worry about me?” Her nose crinkled. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on wandering around out there on my own. I’m smarter than that.”
Nodding, I let her go. “Remember that. Now, I have to get prepped for my bout. Take a seat. When I need you, I’ll let you know.”
Marco handed me a bottle of water and three painkillers. No matter if I won or lost, I was going to hurt later. Better to have some meds loaded into my system before I needed them.
Zadie watched the whole time I went through my rituals. The pills, pushups, oiling my skin, more pushups. I didn’t need her there, but her presence stoked the fire that always burned in my belly when she was around. That, I could use.
I’d take that fire to the man who thought it was wise to step in the ring with me and burn that motherfucker to the ground.
