The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked) Page 7

  He glanced up at his best fighter, Mike “The Mouse”, glad to see him on time for once. “Yeah, yesterday. I think I’m going to call the cops.” He rose, cradling the camera in his shirt. The bundle slapped against his stomach as he and Mike headed for the double doors leading into the gym.

  “You know, Jacob was talking about some of the locals not liking us much.”

  “Can’t help that.” The locals he referred to were members of the tight-knit Korean community. The previous owners had allowed the place to fall into disrepair and debt. He was creating something new. He wished they’d share his vision for something better.

  Quin stepped through the doors and shivered in the sudden blast of cool air. Goose bumps broke out along his shoulders and down his arms. He wasn’t playing freeze out, but even with the air conditioner set at seventy-seven, it was cold in comparison with outside. The gym still had that new out of the box plastic smell.

  When he bought the building, it was in foreclosure. The floor mats were rotted and the bags stitched and duct-taped back together. The weight equipment was mismatched and repaired, or left in a corner to gather dust and take up space. He’d cleared it out and begun all over.

  The opening of the gym should have been a momentous occasion, especially after his less than amicable parting from Greg. He had a stable of mixed martial arts fighters to train and a healthy clientele that wanted access to his equipment. When he had his feet under him, he wanted to start offering classes for the recreational fighter.

  There were plenty of guys who wanted to throw a few punches without stepping into the MMA octagon, and several women had called to see if he hosted self-defense classes or even children’s activities. Those weren’t avenues of business he’d anticipated, but they made sense, especially in a godforsaken state that doubled as an oven. Kids couldn’t play outside without running the risk of heat stroke or stepping in a crack in the ground and breaking a leg.

  He dumped the camera in a box in his office and sank down in the mesh ergonomic chair. His shoulder burned from where Kellie’s nails had gouged tracks into his skin, and he had a bad case of carpet burn on his legs. Damn, she was the most interesting woman he’d met in years. And he’d lied to her.

  A knock at his door brought his chin up. One of his new regulars stood half in his doorway. Though he couldn’t recall her name, he did remember that the dark-skinned woman with the neatly trimmed halo of wiry black hair was a Dallas cop.

  “Hey, what’s up?” He stood and came around the desk, his hand outstretched. He added a smile as an afterthought.

  “Hi, Quin.” She took his hand in a firm shake and thumbed over her shoulder with her other hand. “Have you seen the women’s locker room?”

  His stomach sank. “No. Can you show me?”

  “Sure.” She turned and led him to the remodeled locker rooms. She stuck her head in. “Anyone in here?”

  No answer.

  He held the door and followed her in. On the left, bathrooms and sinks lined two walls. On the other, lockers formed U-shaped sections every ten feet. It was noticeably warmer in the women’s locker room than it had been in the gym.

  She walked to the far end, where a short hallway led to the showers. “I didn’t notice it right away. But I came in here to wash off, and that’s when I saw the busted-out window.”

  He groaned and stepped into the shower room. The fogged glass was shattered and spray paint decorated the opaque shower doors.

  “Thanks,” he remembered to say after a moment.

  “I didn’t see any other damage, but you might want to report this. I can call someone.”

  Quin shoved his hands through his hair. He had no idea who would do this. He’d been grasping at straws when he went to see Kellie in the first place; now he had nothing.

  “Yeah, please. I would appreciate it.”

  Someone really wanted him gone, but he had no plans to leave.

  * * * * *

  “But I had an appointment!”

  Kellie grimaced at the shrill tones emanating from the front of the shop. The numbers for payroll were blurring together, so she pushed away from the desk.

  Pandora was stranded at the receptionist desk with the same female client who’d come in every day. She saw Kellie and pointed.

  “You were here yesterday. Where is Autumn?”

  Inwardly she groaned while putting on her best customer service smile. The numbers crunched in her head, tallying up how much Autumn’s absence was costing them. She couldn’t keep fighting for someone who didn’t want to be with them.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” She leaned her hip against the counter and shot Pandora a smile.

  “Not good. I was supposed to get this tattoo, but Autumn hasn’t been here. Now she’s not here today.” The client waved a folded piece of paper as she spoke. It didn’t have quite the effect she wanted. Instead of looking angry and indignant, she appeared to be imitating a floundering bird.

  “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. Autumn’s going to be out for a little longer. We didn’t anticipate this, so it sucks. If you like, Pandora or I can do your tattoo.” She didn’t dare look at her coworker. She could feel the daggers from her gaze already. “But that’s about all we can do.”

  The lies poured off her tongue, leaving an acrid, bitter taste in her mouth. Although Kellie had called and even gone by Autumn’s apartment before work, the other woman was still a no-show. Kellie didn’t know whether she should be worried or pissed off.

  The client grasped the long strand of plastic beads hanging around her neck with both hands. “I really wanted Autumn to do it. There’s no way she can come in for a little while?”

  Kellie shook her head. “Sorry, no.”

  Autumn’s potential client’s shoulders slumped and her expression was a cross between irritated and pitiful. If Kellie had to hazard a guess, she was someone’s spoiled princess, unaccustomed to hearing the word no. Lucky for her, Kellie was well-versed in the many uses of the word.

  “Can you have her call me when she’s back?”

  “Yeah, I have your contact information here.” She pulled out the slip of paper with her info just for spite. “Is this correct?”

  She glanced at the paper. “Yes. Just have her call me.”

  “Will do.”

  They waited until the door had closed behind the client and she’d walked several feet before turning to each other. Pandora had dark circles under her eyes, no makeup and her hair was up in a ponytail. Ever since becoming serious with Brian, she’d gone the extra mile to look nice, even twisting Autumn’s arm into giving her a few makeup lessons, so the abrupt change didn’t bode well.

  “Rough night?” It was about time they had at least one argument. It was healthy. All that mooning over each other wasn’t.

  Pandora scrubbed a hand across her face. “Kinda.”

  The back door rattled as it opened. “Hola.”

  “Hey, Mary.” She turned and her brows lifted. “Hey, Sam.”

  The teen nodded, his features obscured by a dark slash of hair across his face and the hood from his jacket he’d pulled up. Sam had served as the shop manager since he was thirteen. The last few months had shown how good Mary had it with him before the attitudes and work ethic had tanked to record lows.

  Kellie stepped away from the desk and allowed Sam to assume his duties. Pandora peeled out and headed for the office, where Mary had disappeared.

  “How’s it going, Sammy?”

  He shrugged and pulled out his ear buds.

  “That good huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s summer school going?”

  “It blows.”

  “Well, yeah, it’s summer school. It’s not exactly a party. If anyone comes in for Autumn, she’s a no-show today. Tell them she had a family emergency, and don’t tell them when she’ll be back.”

  Sam nodded, already tapping out a beat on the desk with a pencil in one hand and a pen in the other.

  She want
ed to do something, anything that would penetrate the haze of teenage stupidity Sam had fallen into. But she’d been an only kid, and Grandma would have put her in her place if she pulled the shit he was pulling. It frustrated her to no end to watch Mary struggle to raise Sam on her own. It was a burden Kellie didn’t envy.

  “I’m going to powwow with the girls in the office. Holler if you need anything.”

  She didn’t wait for him to reply. The changes in Sam over the last few months were pronounced, as if someone had turned off the lights. She wanted to help, but she was overstressed as it was. Though after her romp last night, she was far more relaxed than she had been.

  “There you are,” Pandora said as Kellie entered the office and dropped into her chair.

  Mary and Kellie had desks facing opposite sides of the room. Both were repurposed pieces, painted and personalized. Pandora sat on the loveseat between the two desks, her legs curled up under her, brushing out her hair.

  “What’s up with you? You look like crap.”

  Mary shot Kellie a glare, which she ignored.

  Pandora groaned and scrubbed her face again. “Brian and I had a fight after we got home from seeing Carly. I didn’t get any sleep. It was a hot mess.”

  “How is Carly?”

  Pandora chewed her lip. The silence ratcheted up the stress in the room, but also prepared Kellie for the inevitable bad news they had been waiting on.

  “She’s good. She has control of all of her—functions—but they’re still not positive she’ll walk again.” Pandora dashed tears from her eyes. Her boyfriend had overcome a similar prognosis and now walked without any visible sign of his injuries. He still used a cane at times, but not around anyone but Pandora, a secret Kellie and Mary were sworn to protect.

  “How do they know?” Mary asked.

  “They don’t for sure, but the doctor told her to be ready to learn to live in a wheelchair.”

  Kellie slumped in her chair. “Shit. That sucks. What did you guys fight about?”

  “It’s stupid.”

  Pandora didn’t reply, so Kellie prompted her. “About?”

  “He wants me to move in with him, and I’m not ready to.”

  “Not to take sides or anything, but you do realize you sleep at his place most nights, and he drives you to work half the time.” To Kellie, it made sense on an economic level. What was the point of keeping up two homes when they really only needed one?

  “Yeah, but I’m not ready for that. Plus, there’s no room for me. He has the band shit still there. It’s like being in a fucking tomb.”

  “I thought he was getting rid of the stuff.”

  “He’s ‘working on it’. Whatever that means. I get that the equipment is sentimental, but all the merch can go. It’s doing nothing for him except taking up space. And if he wants to keep the guys’ stuff, display it. Don’t leave it packed up.” Judging by the impassioned speech, this was a topic Pandora had talked about more than once.

  “He should sell that stuff. I’d bet the Sucker Punch Sunday fan clubs would go nuts over it.”

  “Brian had me email them. They want to take some and sell to their members. He can get rid of it. He’s just dragging his feet. And I wish I could be pissed off about it, but I get why it’s hard to purge.”

  Kellie’s mouth screwed up on one side. “Yeah, but it’s just stuff. I saw the crazy crap load he’s hanging on to and I get it. The instruments, old merch and stuff that has memories associated with it, that I get. But the rest of it? It’s junk. I mean, you said you found boxes of Dr Pepper cans and chip bags. That’s not sentimental. That’s hoarding. I’m all for honoring the memory of our ancestors and friends who have passed, but he needs to move on.”

  Pandora rubbed her face, agony twisting her features into a pained mask. “It sucks. He’ll get over it, but it seriously sucks and I don’t want to move into that.”

  “He cares for you,” Mary said, finally breaking into the conversation though she’d been watching it, following the progression as if she were an observer at a tennis match.

  The corners of Pandora’s mouth turned up and a flicker of warmth blossomed in her gaze. “Yeah,” she said quietly, twirling her hair around her fingers. She glanced at Kellie and her eyes narrowed. “So what about you? You seem awfully chill today.”

  “What?” Kellie released her grip on the armrests and swung her chair back and forth, but she’d already been caught.

  Pandora’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

  “She’s right.” Mary leaned on the desk and propped her chin up. “What gives?”

  She glared at her coworkers. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you?”

  “Who else are you going to tell?” Pandora countered.

  “I hooked up with a guy after the party on Monday.” She rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Mary said something in rapid-fire Spanish, while Pandora’s eyes grew large and round.

  “Whatever.” Kellie jabbed her finger at the other two. “Don’t act like you haven’t done it. I’ve heard your stories.” It was the best sixty bucks she’d spent in a while. Granted, she was probably charged for the picture they’d broken, but Quin had been worth it.

  Mary snorted. “It’s about time. You’ve been wound too tight.”

  “Who was it?” Pandora propped her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. “Anyone we know?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. He was a client Sunday.” She managed to say it all without choking too. It wasn’t the most professional thing she’d ever done, but she’d live.

  “The guy from Sunday? The one you wanted to feed him his own balls?” Mary smirked and shook her head.

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  Mary shrugged. “I like him. You could do worse. I have.”

  “Thanks for your approval.” The quip left her lips easily, but Mary’s statement stuck with her. Her best friend was slow to warm up to people, and she already liked Quin? Had she seen something in him Kellie had missed?

  Pandora lifted her shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with it. And hell, I have no room to point fingers. You ran interference for me.”

  “That guy was a piece of work too.” Kellie shook her head as she recalled a college swimmer Pandora entangled herself with before learning of his stalker tendencies.

  “You’re going to see him again. Is this going to be awkward?” Mary asked.

  Leave it to Mary to say exactly the thing that was bothering her. Kellie sighed and crossed her leg over her knee. “I don’t think it will be awkward. We agreed that it was just sex.”

  Pandora leaned forward and propped her elbows on her knees, her chin perched on her hands. “How did this happen? Was he getting a tattoo and you thought, why not?”

  She glanced at Pandora. “Um, no, nothing like that. I did his line work before he had to leave, then came back for his phone and the party. After we closed up, he and I grabbed tacos from the truck down the street and got a room.”

  “Romance isn’t dead. You know how to woo a boy,” Mary scoffed.

  “As much as I would love to sit and talk roses and shit with you hussies, I have work to do.” Kellie pushed to her feet and stretched. “Is Sam doing inventory, or are we doing that ourselves?”

  Mary replied with a venomous note, “Sam is here to work.”

  Chapter Five

  Geisha—In Japanese it means “person of the arts,” and often these artistic, beautiful women symbolize mystery with their painted faces that hide their secrets. Red is often a color associated with these figures.

  Quin held the bag for Mouse, bracing under the rain of blows.

  “Come on, Mouse, hit it like you mean it.”

  Mouse grunted and blew breaths out of his mouth, his gaze trained on the bag.

  “Don’t drop your guard. Don’t be lazy.”

  In answer, Mouse corrected his stance and laid into the bag with more force. Quin counted down
in his head. They’d been going for almost two solid hours, and this was Mouse’s second session of the day. There was a lot of training to do over the next two weeks before what he hoped would be the first fight that would truly establish his gym in the MMA world. It sucked that it all depended on Mouse doing well. The sad truth was that the other fighters he was working with just weren’t ready.

  “Good. Go cool down, man.” Quin slapped a hand on Mouse’s shoulder and instantly regretted it. Sweat and grit from the mile jog up and down the street coated Mouse’s arms. Quin grimaced as he turned and wiped the palm on his shorts.

  “See ya, Coach,” Mouse got out between pants. He plodded off to the water fountain, looking worse for wear today. They needed to amp up his stamina training.

  “Hey, Coach, got a moment?”

  He looked up at Jacob, one of the rare members turned fighter who had transferred from the old gym. Quin was thankful for the handful of people like Jacob who supported him.

  “What’s going on?”

  Jacob glanced around them, his usually impassive face tense and his eyes narrowed.

  “Do you want to step into my office?” He gestured toward the other side of the gym.

  “No, I just wanted to tell you that Greg Redding was talking to some of the guys during lunch. It was over Twitter, and it was dumb, but I thought you should know.”

  Red hazed Quin’s vision and he clenched his fists. He’d brought most of his fighters to Texas and put them up in a house he’d renovated. While he didn’t expect them to jump ship to Greg’s gym any time soon, if Mouse didn’t do well for them, if they didn’t win some bouts, the guys would have no reason to stay with him. Pivoting, he landed a punch into the bag Mouse had whaled on minutes before.

  “Fuck,” he growled out, putting his hands on his hips. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “That’s not all.”

  Quin briefly closed his eyes. “Give it to me.”

  Jacob darted a look at Mouse, who was spotting one of the younger guys at the bench press. “I don’t like telling you this. I don’t want to be a snitch, but I think you should know. Greg called Mouse to try to talk him into going back. Said he’d make it worth his while. Mouse was bragging about it.”