I sink into his hold and close my eyes, knowing that I won’t sleep. The dreams . . . the detective’s email . . . rolling it around in my head makes me feel dizzy, as if I’m falling.
Blake’s arms close around me even tighter, and I visualize that he’s holding me together, keeping me grounded, until the drop feels more like floating.
Seven
Blake
Throwing open the doors of the training center first thing in the morning, I already feel a fraction better than I did last night. The list of things that calm my inner turmoil is short: Layla, music, and beating the shit out of something.
It took me over an hour in my music room to work off the pent up frustration from all my unanswered questions. I fell into a restless sleep after that, only to wake up to a terrified Layla, who looked like an animal that had been beaten. And when shit can’t get worse, it usually does. She spotted the email.
Talking to her about it loosened some of the tightness I’ve been carrying in my chest, and her response was not what I’d expected. I’d anticipated her reaction since I received the damn thing, and I would’ve sworn she’d have been out for blood. Instead she agreed to leave the whole damn thing to me. The victory I felt was short-lived once my brain kicked in and reminded me that nothing with Layla has ever been that easy.
“Mornin’, Blake.” Vanessa, the training center’s receptionist and huge pain in my ass, bats her eyelashes in greeting.
I ignore her stupid attempt at flirting. “Vanessa, heads up, my brother Braeden’s coming in this morning.”
I texted Brae right when I woke up and invited him down for a tour and a workout. He’s never been to the UFL facility before, and I figured working out would be a good excuse to get him alone. If he’d just fucking tell me what’s going on at home, I could tell my parents to go to hell and get back to worrying about more important things: like the fact that someone’s after information on my woman and daughter.
I roll my head to relieve the tension. “When he gets, here if you could show him back—”
“He’s already here.” Her eyebrows pop up and a flicker of female appreciation lights her expression. “If I’d known there was a younger, sexier version of you out there, I would’ve been nicer to Layla after she claimed you.”
“Sexier? Yeah right.” I roll my eyes at Vanessa’s blatant attempt at getting me riled. As if I give a flying fart what she thinks of me, Layla, or my brother. “Where’s he at?”
“I left him with Jonah.” She jerks her head toward the hallway with a flick of her reddish-blond hair. “They’re in the gym.”
I mumble a quick “thanks” and head off to find him.
Once inside the warehouse-like facility, I spot Jonah and Braeden by the octagon. Their attention is on two fighters sparring inside. As I draw closer, I recognize them as Rex and Mason.
I shove my brother from behind. “What up, dicklick?”
He stumbles one step, groans, and rubs his temples. “Hungover, please whisper.”
“Idiot.” I shake my head and give Jonah a chin lift before joining them to watch Rex and Baywatch. “Damn, that kid’s fast.”
Jonah’s arms are crossed over his chest, his gaze focused as he studies the fighters. “Yeah, Rex isn’t even taking it easy on him anymore. Baywatch is a fuckin’ animal in there.”
I nod and watch as Mase gets Rex into full mount position so quickly the tattooed fighter barely has time to register what happened, much less block it.
No one talks about it, but we all know where Mason’s extra drive to kill is coming from. Eve’s choosing Cameron over Mase lit a fire to annihilate in the kid’s ass. He came to Vegas all wide-eyed and innocent. Now the guy takes the asshole ranks. He’s pissin’ people off, getting reprimanded for talking shit to other fighters, even got suspended for a bar fight.
I don’t judge him. Hell, if Layla had ended up leaving my ass for another guy, I’d be in prison for murder.
Just then Mason gets Rex in a ground guillotine choke. We all step closer to the cage.
“Sweet move, Baywatch!” Jonah grips the chain link, calling into the training fighters. “Rex, tap!”
Rex taps, as he should. The hold he’s in is next to impossible to break, and we’re not here to kill each other.
Mase tightens the hold, his teeth bared. Fuck. My eyes dart to Jonah, who has his gaze focused on Mason’s arm.
“Mase, let up!”
He doesn’t. Rex’s muscles go limp, but regain and struggle. Fuck, he’s going unconscious. I hook a foot and climb the fence just as Jonah does the same. Within seconds, we’re at Mason.
Jonah wraps one arm around the front of Mason’s neck as if he’s a feral dog. “Let up! Now!”