Fighting the Fall (Fighting, #4)

What the fuck is up with that?

With a two-hour break in my day, I plan on hitting the weights hard with hopes of exhausting myself along with the drive to see Eve. She works the closing shift at her restaurant tonight, and I’m not some needy prick who’s going to show up at the end of her shift and drag her back to my bed. Or shit, maybe I am. I scribble a note in my planner to find out what time Eve gets off and then head to my car to get my gym bag.

It’s hot today, hovering around 110 degrees, but thankfully my car is parked in one of the three covered spots reserved for the CEO and VIPs. I’m in my trunk, grabbing my shit when I hear angry voices from across the lot.

“You touch my ride, you little punk ass bitch?”

It’s Reece and one of his boys being difficult as usual. They’re in Killer’s face again, most likely about something completely made up. Lopez has his phone up, is he videoing this? Fucking juveniles. I can’t figure out why they have it out for Killer, but it’s getting old.

“I didn’t go anywhere near your car, man.”

I hang back at the sound of Killer’s voice. If he wants to be accepted as an equal, he’s going to have to stand up for himself. It won’t do him any good for me to swoop in and protect him. I’ll watch how he handles himself, and if Reece takes it too far, I’ll make sure to stop it.

“Nice try, slut. There’s a mark on the side of my car that wasn’t there this morning.” Reece looks back to Lopez, who’s making no attempt to cover up how hilarious he thinks this is.

Man, these guys need to get their asses kicked. Not in the octagon, but in a straight-up bare-knuckled street fight.

“What’s your problem, Reece? Every day you find some reason to get all over my ass about something.” Killer’s standing his ground, taking the high road rather than falling into Reece’s trap. Pride swells in my chest.

“I bet you’d like that, huh Fill-ee-man.” Reece looks over his shoulder, laughing along with his sidekick. “You hear that? He wants me all over his ass.”

The door to the training center opens, and Blake storms out. He doesn’t say a word, but stands a few feet back, muscles tense, glaring at Reece and Lopez.

They don’t seem affected by his sudden presence and continue to laugh and taunt. I know Blake’s got a soft spot for the kid, so I move closer in case he loses his shit. “Reece, Lopez, unless you’re out here washing cars, I’d suggest you get your asses back to training.”

Reece turns to me; his humor morphs into a scowl. “You’re always getting on my shit when this fucker scratched my ride.”

Killer props his hands on his hips and shakes his head. “I didn’t touch your fuckin’ car, dude.”

I swing my gaze to the car and squint to fight the glare. It’s a two-door compact of some kind, painted cobalt blue with fucking glitter. On the hood, in white letters that form an arch it says Money, Power & Bitches.

“You have that done?” I point to the hood of his car. “On purpose? Or is that some kind of joke your boys played on you?”

Blake’s low chuckle sounds from behind me, and Killer rolls his lips between his teeth.

“Yeah, right.” Reece shifts on his feet and gives Lopez a chin lift as if what I said was supposed to be funny.

He did that to his car on purpose? I blink and rub my hand down my face. He drives this humiliating piece of shit and has the nerve to give Killer a hard time?

“Reece, you can’t park this thing anywhere near the training center. Ever. From now on, you hitch a ride, take a bus, cab it, I don’t give a fuck, but I don’t want that”—I point to the offending vehicle—“anywhere near my doors again. Understood?”

His face contorts with anger. “You can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

“My contract says—”

“I can terminate your contract for lewd and indecent behavior. That”—I motion to the hood of the car—“is the definition of lewd and indecent.”

His jaw drops open. “I spent two grand to get those decals made and put on.”

“Are you shittin’ me? That’s the stupidest damn thing I’ve ever heard.”

“‘Money, power, and bitches’ is my creed. I have the freedom to put that shit on whatever I want.”

Blake moves up so that he’s at my side. “Dude, you put ‘Money, Power, and Bitches’ on a Toyota, dumb shit. Pretty sure that makes you the stupidest motherfucker around.”

I’d usually reprimand Blake for being confrontational, but he’s right. This guy’s a fuckin’ douchebag.

“I’m gonna help you out, Reece.” Blake absorbs Reece’s glare like it’s nothing. “I’m thinkin’ you need a new creed.” He rubs his chin. “Hm . . . Ah!” He snaps his fingers. “I got it. How ’bout this? ‘Broke ass with a little dick.’”

A laugh shoots from Killer’s mouth, and I’m doing everything I can to not join him.

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