Fighter

I fixed him with a pointed stare. “Start talking. What’d Chris say?”


“Nothing about the match. He told me Libby went to see him.”

I scooted next to him. “She did?”

A haunted look came to his eyes. “Yeah. She offered to be one of his whores if he’d let her boyfriend off the hook.”

My eyes went wide. “What’d he say?”

“No. He held up his end of the deal. He told me to crush my opponent, and he’d do one better: he’d make her boyfriend dump her if he wanted to keep gambling with them. Knowing that dipshit, I bet it’d work too. He’d toss my sister to the curb for the next big game.”

I frowned. “He’s probably betting on this match with you.”

Jax jerked a shoulder up. “I don’t care. As long as my sister is out of his life, I’ll do what I need to do.” He skimmed an eye over me. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” My fuzzies, butterflies, and twisted pretzel insides were getting along famously. “I’ll be fine. So Chris didn’t say you had to throw it?”

“No. He said to crush him.”

“Oh.” That was odd. “Who are you fighting?”

Jax shrugged. “I have no idea. We’ve been out of the loop. I’ll find out when they announce him, I guess.”

And that’s what happened. Turns out Jax wasn’t fighting just another fighter. He was fighting Charles Monroe, Chris Monroe’s older brother and also a part of the local Monroe mafia family.

This had just taken an entirely different turn. I shared a worried look with Jax, but when they called for him, he shrugged and said, “I gotta do my job.” He rolled his shoulders back, as if shaking off concerns, before jumping from our box and into the ring. As he did, the crowd went nuts.

No matter who won, the crowd had picked their favorite. They loved Jax Cutler.

So did I.

“It’s a brilliant idea, isn’t it?”

I turned to see Chris Monroe standing in the walkway. Turgo lifted the rope to my box, and Chris ducked under his arm, smiling at me. He indicated Jax’s empty seat. “May I?”

I nodded, keeping quiet. Chris Monroe had been in our grade in school. He never said much back then, but everyone knew about his family, so no one messed with him. He’d been the studious type. He was also athletic, but he didn’t go out for any of the teams, a fact I’ve often thought the rest of the guys had to be grateful for. Had he gone out, he would’ve played, regardless of whether he should’ve been first string or not.

Looking him over now, I noticed his outfit. He’d worn sweatshirts and jeans in school, never stood out. I always thought that had been his intention—not to stand out—and that sort of still seemed to be the case. Tonight he wore a blue sweater over jeans and loafers. His clothes were high quality, though. He wasn’t wearing anything from the local Walmart, unlike 95% of the people in Sally’s that night, myself included. I felt a little foolish, knowing I’d bought this shirt from a clearance rack. It’d been so cute.

I didn’t feel cute anymore.

“You’re supposed to ask what’s brilliant,” he prompted me, running a hand over his hair. He didn’t need to. His brown hair was combed perfectly to the side.

I snorted. “Is this how the mob looks now? The college professor vibe?”

His green eyes seemed startled, then he started laughing, shaking his head. “I forgot you weren’t to be messed with.”

“I’m a Holden.” Holdens didn’t get messed with either.

“True.” He gestured to the ring where his older brother flexed and stretched, trying to intimidate Jax. “Aren’t you going to say anything about that? You know everyone’s assuming Jax will throw the match.”

I nodded. This was starting to make sense. “And you knew your brother would get to the championship match. All his opponents would throw their fights, not wanting to get on the bad side of a Monroe.”

He grinned in approval. “But not Jax.”

“Not if he had a good-enough motive.”

“Libby.” Chris’ smile stretched from ear to ear.

“Who you were never going to let pay her boyfriend’s gambling debt, were you?” I remembered how he used to watch her in school. When she noticed, he would pretend to be studying. “You always snuck looks at her, thinking no one noticed.”

He laughed again, but this time the sound was more somber. “I didn’t think anyone did notice.”

“You care for her, don’t you?”

His smile was gone. He nodded, the somberness moving to his eyes. “I always have.”

“Does Jax know?”

“I think he will after this match.” He gave me a pointed look.

He was right. I was going to tell. Jax needed to know. “Jax would do anything for his sister.”

“I know.”

“Everyone’s betting on your brother, but your money’s on Jax.”