“You like it too, don’t you?”
She peered down as she adjusted her clothing, and he decided to let her keep her tenuous grip on modesty. He’d rid her of it soon enough.
“What do I bring?”
“As many clothes as you can fit onto my bike and toiletries you can’t live without. We got the basic shit covered, but I know women can be picky about that shit.”
“What about Paul?”
“I’ll take you to see him myself, okay? I know this is a lot to take in and coming at the worst time, but this is all to keep you and everyone safe.”
“I know. I get it.” She nodded. “Doesn’t make it any easier.”
“This is the life and whether or not we were together you’d be neck-deep in it.”
She peered at him and tilted her head. “You owe me a story.”
His heart raced. “W-what do you mean?” The thought of rehashing his fucked-up childhood didn’t sit well.
“I want to know everything you do about Levi.”
Her answer both relieved and worried him. “Why torture yourself? Can’t you take our word… He’s psychotic?”
Her chest rose and fell as she balled her hands into fists. “Because I laid down with that, I loved that. I thought it was a catch. I need to know what kind of monster fooled me.”
He didn’t agree but he’d learned to keep his mouth shut and pick the time and place for his battle.
“Rocco, I’m serious.” She added bass into her voice.
“Yeah, I hear you. Pack.”
She walked into her room and he watched the sway of her ass. I need to let my brothers know right away this shit’s off the market. Lockdown turns the most decent of them into fucking vultures. How the fuck did I end up like this? His mind drifted back to the moment everything had changed.
Two months earlier…
Strains happened. They were a part of life as a fighter, and the only remedy was rest. Untreated or ignored, you could push your body past its breaking point and end your career in the blink of an eye.
“Sorry, man, you know the drill,” the doc said and patted Rocky on the back in the locker room.
Rocky nodded. “Rest, ice packs, compressions, elevation and no gym for at least a week.”
“Yes, and when you do go back, it’s only after I clear you.” The balding man in his late fifties narrowed his gray eyes. “You hear me?”
“Yeah, Doc. I hear you.”
“Good. You’ve been working your ass off the past six months, son. Enjoy the break and call one of the boys to come get you and drive you home.”
“Fuck.” Rocky ran a hand over his face. “I’m on it.” A thigh sprain meant no riding for a while. That was like chopping his balls off. The thought of anyone driving his bike pissed him off, but being dragged around like an invalid pissed him off more. Evonne. He grabbed his phone and made a call.
“Hey, are you headed home?” Evonne asked.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling you actually. I, uh, pulled a muscle in my thigh and I’m out of commission for a week. I need a ride and someone to drive my bike back.”
“Oh, are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s nothing major, but if I don’t take caution it could be.”
“Okay, well, Mouth is here right now. Will he work?”