Chapter 18

Well, that was awkward.

I quietly close the door behind me until it clicks shut. The rumble of Torch’s engine increases then slowly fades away. I press my hand against my chest. Why did that talk, hell, the whole night, leave a heaviness clinging to me like heavy chains wrapped around my body?

Low, murmuring voices come from the kitchen. Great, does Remy have someone over? Probably a girl he picked up at the track. There were enough of them crawling around tonight looking for a hookup.

I should run straight to my room, but I’m thirsty. Besides, this is still my house. I cock my head, listening. Sounds like another guy. Eraser maybe? I hang my bunny mask on a hook by the door, unlace my boots and yank them off. In my stockinged feet, I slide my way into the kitchen.

At the threshold, I skid to a stop. My hand shoots out and hits the wall.

Griff.

In my kitchen.

With my brother.

Casually leaning against the counter like he’s done so many times before.

As if he hasn’t messed up my night—my life—enough.

“Why are you here?” I blurt, harsher than I meant.

They both turn my way. When Griff’s gaze lands on me, the desire to melt into the floor consumes my soul.

Griff stares at me like he’s trying to memorize every hair on my head, forcing me to look anywhere but at him. “We have business to discuss.”

“Oh.” I frown in Remy’s direction. They couldn’t have talked about whatever at Zips?

“He’s buying me out of The Castle,” Remy explains.

“What?” My eyes bug. “Why?” They’ve owned the old building and the property around it for a couple of years now. They hold all their underground fights there.

Oh no.Are they parting ways because of me? I always worried I’d ruin their friendship if Griff and I got involved. I never thought about their business relationship. I try not to spend too much time thinking about their illegal cage fighting as it is.

“Don’t worry about it,” Griff says.

My temper spikes at his casual dismissal. “What are you going to do with the building?”

“I haven’t decided, yet.”

Whatever. It’s not my business. “Excuse me.” I don’t want to get too close to Griff but he’s blocking my path to the refrigerator.

He slides his body less than a foot away from where he’s standing. I shoot a glare at his feet, but he doesn’t move another inch.

Heat travels over my exposed skin as if I can feel his gaze on me. I yank open the refrigerator, rattling the bottles in the door. I grab a can of seltzer. “I’ll leave you two to your business.”

“You going to bed?” Remy asks.

Don’t look at Griff. Don’t look at Griff. “Maybe.”

As if I can sleep knowing Griff’s in my house.

I pop the top on my can and take a quick sip. Awkwardness slides over me. My presence isn’t wanted or needed here.

“Night,” I call over my shoulder.

Tears sting my eyes as I leave the kitchen. Why does seeing Griff twist me up in knots so bad? I’m over him.

Liar, liar, red-striped tights on fire.

I pause in the dining room.

“Did you talk to her?” my brother asks.

My heart thuds so loud I’m afraid I’ll miss Griff’s answer.

“We talked.”

“And?”

None of your business! Why is my brother so damn nosy?

“Not your business.” Griff’s rumbling dismissal makes me want to punch my fist in the air in triumph. Hah! Tell him.

“Dead wrong, bro. My sister is my business,” Remy, the caveman growls. “I still owe you an ass-kicking for hurting her.”

As annoying as Remy’s overprotectiveness can be, love for him swells in my chest.

“Oh, yeah.” Griff chuckles, low and rough. “What’s stopping you, Ruthless?”

“I was waiting for your Frankenface to heal,” Remy scoffs.

Huh? Afraid I’d melt into a puddle at his feet if I looked at him too closely, I’d looked everywhere but Griff’s face tonight.

The urge to return to the kitchen almost moves my feet in that direction.

No.

I’m going to my room.

Hopefully they don’t kill each other.

Griff

My chest’s so tight I can barely breathe. Having Molly so close again and not touching her is fucking torture. Why’d I do this to myself tonight? Remy and I could’ve talked about this any time. It didn’t have to be now.

But I needed to see Molly again.

And you wanted to know if Torch dropped her off and drove away or if he came inside.

Thank fuck I heard his car leave.

But now I’m obsessing about her being alone with Torch in his car. It sounded like they sat out there for a while. What the fuck were they up to? What do they even have in common to talk about? Why was her lipstick smeared? Nope. Can’t dwell on that question too long or my head will explode.

“Oh, yeah?” I poke him in the chest, knowing full well how much he hates that. “What’s stopping you?”

He lightly slaps the unscarred side of my face. “I was waiting for your Frankenface to heal,” Remy scoffs.

“You’re just mad that, Frankenface or not, I’m still better looking than you.”

He chuckles and backs up a step. “You wish.”

I want to follow Molly upstairs. Force her to really talk to me this time. Instead, I’m stuck with Remy insulting my face and threatening to kick my ass.

He cocks his head and his gaze strays toward the living room. “On second thought, I don’t think I want to sell off my part of The Castle to you.”

What the fuck is he talking about?

“Why?” That was going to be the only way I could give Remy some of my earnings from the show. The stubborn fucker sure as shit won’t let me give him the money.

“Because I don’t want to.”

I narrow my eyes and study him. Why’s he fucking with me like this? “All right. Well, we should talk about what we want to do with it, don’t you think?”

He reels back as if I’d slapped him, which I haven’t ruled out yet tonight. “You don’t want to host fight nights anymore?”

I run my fingers through my hair and stare at my boots for a few seconds. “As you’ve so charmingly pointed out,” I wave my hand in front of my face, “I might draw unwanted attention to our little operation now.”

“Oh,” he sighs. “Right. So be a silent partner.”

I cock my head and give him my best are you stupid face. “Because I’m so good at staying silent?”

“Well what else do you want to do with the place?”

“Fix it up and use it as our clubhouse. Have a base of operation for our support club.” I had a lot of time to think about it over the last few months and it makes the most sense.

He stares at me for a few beats and now I’m getting the are you stupid vibe. “You think making a bigger commitment to the Lost Kings right now is a good idea?” He waves his fingers in front of my face. “In light of all your newfound fame and all?”

He’s got a point.

“Besides,” he continues, “I thought that’s the last place you’d ever want to spend another night?”

“That’s why I said fix it up.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it.” He frowns as if he’s actually considering the idea. “That’s going to cost a fuck ton of money.”

“It doesn’t have to. If we do some of the work ourselves.”

“Because we’re such good contractors and have so much free time?” He raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Don’t be a dick. I’m serious.” I take a beat and brace myself for the reaction I’m going to get to the next thing I want to tell Remy. “There’s some talk about a professional fight I might be offered. In Vegas. They’re throwing around some big numbers just for me showing up.”

He stares at me.

And stares.

Finally, he opens his big, opinionated mouth. “You’re not seriously considering taking it, are you?”

“Uh, six figures, fuck yes, I’m considering it. You wouldn’t?”

He’s silent for so long, he doesn’t have to answer. Of course he would say yes.

“Actual fighters don’t make that kind of money. What’s the angle?”

That had been my first thought too, but I’m not admitting it to Remy. “It’s just because I was on the show.”

“Where does this end, Griff?” Remy steps back and crosses his arms over his chest. “You gonna keep stepping in the ring until you end up looking like a splattered jack-o-lantern who speaks like he’s got scrambled eggs for brains?”

“Well, that’s…insulting.” I run my hand through my hair. “And no. I’m sure they’ll get tired of me eventually. I might as well ride it and rake up the cash while I still can.”

“While you can still walk,” he says with a dickish scowl. If I didn’t detect a hint of genuine concern in his voice, I’d walk out the door right now.

I glance toward the hallway where Molly disappeared. What are the chances she’s still awake?

“Don’t even think about it,” Remy warns.

“Last week you were practically begging me to move in.” I give him a wide-eyed, confused face.

“Yeah, well, since you haven’t and you still have your own place, I think it’s best if you stay there tonight.” He glances toward the dining room. “I don’t want you upsetting her.”

Fuck, that hurts. “I fucking love her, Remy. And all of this,” I circle my finger in the air between us, “is gonna get fixed.”

“Bro, if you think money and more fights will fix things, you don’t know Molly very well.”

“I never said that. Doesn’t mean I’m not still trying to plan for our future.”

“God bless you, Griff.” He shakes his head. “You’re either the most stubborn fucker or the dumbest.”

“Stubborn sounds better. Let’s go with that.”