Drowning Pool’sBodiesis next on my playlist, and I turn the volume up as loud as it’llgo.
Here wego.
One. Two. Three.Four.
The lyrics fuel an already out of control fire in my veins, and I press the gas pedal harder. I’m weaving in and out of traffic on the Carolina Bays Parkway like a race car driver on the last lap when I remember where I am. Making a hard right, I cross three lanes of traffic and exit. A couple of turns later, I tear out of the car and all but kick the door open to Martial Law MMAStudio.
“Hey, Kincaid. Where ya been? Haven’t seen you in months.” I’ve known the owner, Hal, for years. I’ve shed a lot of blood at his studio, and there’s probably more than a few stains leftover. He’s a good guy, but his easy-going smile fades when he sees me. “Hey, youokay?”
My voice is low and rough as I resume pacing. “I needsomeone.”
“Anyone inparticular?”
“Someone who can take ahit.”
I wait for him to question me. Instead, he scans the room, eventually settling on a man murdering a punching bag who has biceps the size of elephant’s feet. “Keller.” Hal motions him over. “You warmedup?”
Keller looks me up and down, curling his scarred lip into a cocky smirk. “Just for this guy, or did he bring afriend?”
I don’t need backup. I’ve got enough adrenaline coursing through my veins to take on everyone in this place. Grabbing a roll of tape off the equipment shelf, I walk past him, purposely shoulder checking him on my way to thering.
“Getin.”
* * *
Shiloh is sittingon top of the reception desk when I open the door to the center seven hours after I walked out. Technically, the center is open until nine o’clock, but I could care less about rules and protocol as I turn the lock. I have my head turned away from her as she leaps off it and launches herself into myarms.
Why the hell is she stillhere?
I don’t want her to see me, but I’m sure as hell not going to let her fall. Catching her, I allow myself a moment to inhale her scent before letting her go. Free from her grip, I try to circle around her, but this is Shiloh West. Traumatized or not, everything happens on herterms.
Hooking her thumb and finger around my chin, she turns my face toward her and gasps. “Oh my God! Cary, what happened toyou!”
“I don’t want to talk aboutit.”
I should’ve said I didn’t need a therapist or a nurse as well because she lifts her other hand and traces the gashes in my cheek, above and below my eyes, and especially the one splitting my bottom lip. All of them are caked with driedblood.
I hope Keller didn’t have a date tonight. It’s kind of hard to impress a girl when you’re missing six of your frontteeth.
“What did you do?” shewhispers.
“Itripped.”
“On what, a woodchipper?”
“Boss, the inspector never showed,” Frankie announces, walking from my office into the entryway, flipping through a stack of papers in his hands. “I guess it doesn’t matter because you bounced and…fuck, man, you look like shit.” His eyes widen when he sees what’s left of my face, and the papers fall to the floor as he rushes towardme.
I know what he’s doing and I don’t want his help. I want everyone to go away and let me deal with this my way, but instead they’re all hovering over me. Before he touches me, I shove the heel of my hand into his chest and he stumblesbackward.
“Cary, stop…” Shiloh yells, grabbing my wrist and putting herself in betweenus.
I ignore her and look around her shoulder to Frankie. “Why is she stillhere?”
He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Her ride came to get her, but she wouldn’t leave until you cameback.”
Her lips thin, and she fights to control her tone. “She’s right here. You can ask heryourself.”
No, I can’t. I’ve just ended a man’s career. I can’t risk touching you rightnow.
