Chapter Two

Someone knocked into Fighter and broke their eye contact.

Fighter whirled and blocked the punch coming. Jaxon spun and came back toward Brick.

“Let me handle this,” Jaxon said, tightly gripping Brick’s arm.

“The fuck I will.”

Holding him back wasn’t fucking happening and he jerked away. Pain lanced into his side, but it was nothing more than a distant annoyance as rage consumed him. Jaxon was converged upon, taking his attention from him, and Brick was okay with that.

The floor was slick from snow and slush that had come in with the crowd, and the wind blew in icy air.

He reached his target, closed a hand on the back of Fighter’s neck, and jerked the slighter man around.

Where most men would cower in the face of his anger, Brick had to hand it to Fighter, the guy barely blinked. Dark eyes snapped with rage and then a fist that he didn’t see punched him right in his wounded side. Pain ripped through Brick and he stumbled backward.

Cheating fucking asshole! Brick gnashed his teeth.

“You son of a bitch!” Felix’s fist cracked into Fighter’s jaw, knocking him back, but the man stayed on his feet by a miracle.

“Felix, fucking back off,” Brick growled.

Fighter sent a roundhouse into Felix, knocking the bodyguard down to the floor. Two of the Suwan Guardians lunged at Felix, taking his attention and somewhere, Brick heard Gunner bellow like a mad bull.

Spitting blood, Fighter turned on Brick and lunged for him, dark eyes burning with unhinged rage.

“You just had to fucking go there!” Fighter hissed.

“Go where?” Brick smirked and lifted his fists.

“You fucker. You knew I was bidding for the Thomas job. You fucking knew it.”

“So?” Brick mocked and Fighter lost it.

Brick let him come and deflected the punch, but Fighter was fucking fast and delivered another blow to his side. Exploding pain almost took Brick down, the warm trickle of blood wetting his shirt and black dress pants.

Sirens sounded in the distance.

Brick snarled, and when Fighter threw another strike, Brick blocked it and sent his fist into Fighter’s chest. He probably should have aimed for somewhere else, but he was too pissed off to give a shit.

This fight had been weeks in coming after the steak knife incident, and that lent power to his fist. With his size and strength, his blow sent the slender man flying backward to land on the wet, dirty floor.

Not down for long, Fighter rolled to his feet, pain slicing over his pale face, and came at him with a blur of fists and feet flying so fast, all Brick could do was block and move. Brick had known Fighter was a jujitsu expert, because his late father had been a master, and growing up with that kind of training wasn’t something to sneeze at.

What he hadn’t known was how good the guy’s skills were. Plus, he’d never been on the receiving end of said skills. This attack was more vicious than their altercation four weeks ago.

When Fighter lost all control, all Brick could do was try to block and dodge. He managed to get in a few more hits. His white dress shirt turned red and when Fighter’s foot connected to his jaw, copper filled Brick’s mouth.

Blue and red lights flashed through the window and sirens cut off abruptly.

As much as Brick hated to admit it, Fighter had probably won this round. The wall at the far end of the lobby met Brick’s back and he ducked when Fighter sent a punch lightning fast at his head. Brick lifted his forearm and deflected another kick, but another punch caught him in the jaw. Dizzy and fighting the urge to puke, Brick slid down the wall to his ass with Fighter standing over him, breathing hard, fists clenched.

Icy melted snow soaked his pants in seconds and Brick leaned his head back against the wall. He would just close his eyes for a moment, he thought when the room whirled.

Cops swarmed through the front doors shouting orders.

“On your knees! Now!”

Most of the bodyguards dropped to the floor at the raised weapons of SWAT officers. The ones standing raised their hands.

“Get on the fucking ground!” a voice said from behind Fighter.

Brick glanced through a haze of pain at a nervous cop, who looked like a rookie, in a battle stance with his weapon aimed at Fighter’s back.

Instead of complying, Fighter turned on the SWAT officer, making the man take a nervous step backward.

“Just shoot him,” Brick rasped, pressing a hand to his side in an effort to stem the flow of blood.

“You okay, Mr. Brick?” SWAT commander Smith came forward and pressed a hand to the younger cop’s arms, effectively lowering the man’s gun.

“Yeah,” Brick said, even though he wasn’t and that pissed him off. He was going to have to make another trip to the fucking hospital.

“Mr. Suwan, I thought you were smarter than this,” Commander Smith added.

Brick aimed a smug look upward in Fighter’s direction. The right side of the guy’s face was swollen and his lips were split. Blood had trickled down his neck. Without a word of argument, Fighter held out his wrists. When Smith nodded to the young cop, the man came forward and fumbled a pair of handcuffs until they were snapped on Fighter.

Fighter turned on Brick with hate in his eyes. “Stay out of my business from now on.”

“You stay the fuck out of my way,” Brick said with all the strength he had left and then slumped. Taking a nap sounded really good right about then.

Smith’s word came from a long way away. “Get him out of here.”

“Brick!” Jaxon was suddenly there with a hand on his shoulder, but Brick was too fucking tired to open his eyes.

“I’ll fucking end you if there’s permanent damage,” Jaxon snarled, and Brick assumed it was at Fighter, who shouted back.

“Send me the bill!”

That asshole.