Chapter 19: Mick

Chapter Nineteen

MICK

“ I had one rule. No boobs. No booze.”

“Technically, that’s two,” O.P. says.

I have to bite down hard not to bust out laughing. Pedro’s glare is cold enough to freeze water. O.P. grimaces and says, “You’re on your own, kid.”

“You lied to me. You ran off to LA and you almost killed a kid in a parking lot. Do you know what that does for your professional career?”

“No, sir.”

“It ruins it. Before you even get started. You can’t have a criminal record and fight at the MGM.”

I want to say they started it, but the police didn’t really buy that story, and I don’t think Pedro will either. It’s better to stay silent and take my lumps. Pedro will shout at me, make me run or lift some ungodly amount until I’m puking my guts out, and then we’ll get back to the work of making me into a champion.

“I’m not going to have a criminal record. It was self-defense.”

“Do you know why I have a no boobs rule? It’s because women are a distraction. No one gets to be a champ when they’re pussymatized. All you will be doing is running after that girl. She breaks a nail, you have to cut training short to get her a file. She’s hungry, she’s thirsty, she’s bored, and she’s always going to call you.”

“Josie’s not like that. She’s got her own life. She doesn’t want to control mine, and she understands my goals.”

Pedro stares at me for a long time as silence stretches out between us like a rubber band. Then it snaps.

“Get out.”

There’s the order. “How far do you want me to run?”

“Huh?” He gapes at me.

“For punishm—or training. How far? Or should it be for time? Like an hour or two?” Two hours of running is a lot for me. I’ve got a big body, not a runner’s body.

“Get out. Clean out your locker and go home. I’m done with you.”

I blink and then shake my head because I’m sure I’m not hearing right. “Done? With me?”

“Yeah, Mick. I have rules. You didn’t keep them. And you lied to me. Why should I be wasting my time on you? Get out.” He jerks his thumb toward the door.

He’s not serious. He can’t be serious. I want to argue with him, tell him I was defending my girl and that she’s not a distraction, but he’s not going to listen. Not today, but I’m not quitting so I don’t go and clean out my locker. Instead, I go for a run. I run for two hours and sweat off my anger at him, at the assholes from the restaurant, the cops who tried to arrest me.

I return to the gym, but the door’s locked. I kick the door until Dee sticks his head out. He clicks his tongue and shoots me a sympathetic look. “Go home, Mick. Pedro’s not going to let you in today. Eventually you can come back and be one of us, but he’ll never give you that personal training again.”

“Let me in and spar.”

“No can do. You’re too good, and I have to look pretty for the weekend. I’ve got a sweet mama coming over and I can’t be looking all busted and shit.” He slams the door shut.

I stand outside the gym for a good ten minutes willing that door to open, but it never does. Sometimes a strategic retreat is in order. Pedro has gone to his corner, and I should go to mine.

I pick up Mexican for dinner. Pozole for my girl and a chicken taco torte for me because if I’m getting kicked out, I’m going to treat myself with white bread carbs.

At the curb, I call her to let her know I’m back.

“Out of training so early?”

“Yeah, did I catch you doing something naughty?” I flash back to when she was fingering herself. We should do that tonight. It’s sexy as hell to see her pleasuring herself.

“Not unless you call cleaning the kitchen naughty. Oh shoot. I just realized I could have made a dirty joke. Let’s rewind. Yes, I’m elbows deep in something dirty,” she says, pitching her voice low and sexy.

She’s joking, and yet I’m still turned on. “I’d like to be elbow deep in something dirty, too.”

“That sounds actually kind of painful. I mean you’re big, but I don’t think I could take your arm all the way inside me.”

“We could test it out.”

“My vagina is sealing itself shut at the thought.”

“Okay,” I laugh. “I’ll stick with my fingers, cock, and tongue.”

“All three?”

“Yeah.” It’s my voice that drops and roughens this time. “All three after dinner. I’m going to eat you out, then finger-fuck you and then drive my dick into your wet pussy until you’re screaming so loud the neighbors in the other complex call to complain.”

“I’ll be right down to get our food then.”

I hop out of the car at the same time the door to our apartment opens. She waves to me, and the door shuts behind her. An arm appears around her throat and a hand across her mouth. She gasps and claws at it. I drop the food and start running. It’s three stories up, and by the time I’ve reached our floor, the guy has dragged her down the corridor to the elevator. He punches the buttons. Josie is kicking her legs. I sprint faster. The doors to the elevator open, and he drags Josie’s resisting body into the car. When I arrive, the doors are almost closed. I stick my fingers in between the rapidly closing gap and start wrenching the doors open. The man cries out and shoves Josie toward me. She spits something onto the floor, something bloody and fleshy. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and I gather her into my arms and shove her out of the car. The elevator doors shut, and I stand there facing her stalker. “Say your prayers because you’re going to meet your maker.”