Since Carmine thought I was some kind of frigging god in shiny shorts, he’d done as I asked and shifted things around. He’d also given me two new work shirts for free.
Good luck forgetting how I’d lost the first one.
A week ago, I’d had no clue who Mia was. Now she was the axis of my world. If staying away from her would keep her healthy, I’d do it.
If she believed my statement last night indicated that I’d given up my campaign to be in her life, she was insane. Kizzy—crazy name, crazier hair and all—had a point. My presence had thrown Mia off her stride. In our business, that could get you seriously hurt.
Or seriously dead.
Even knowing that, I hadn’t been willing to walk away without an end date to my sentence. I vehemently did not want to fight her. Just considering it made me want to break things and throw up—in that order. But that fight was the only carrot I had. If I didn’t dangle it in her face, what guarantee did I have that she wouldn’t split town with her sister without the money she claimed to need? She could always come up with another plan.
If she did leave, I might never see her again. I hadn’t even known her last name before I’d picked up her phone under the guise of giving her Timmins’ number. I’d gotten lucky that she’d gone with a standard email addy.
Before last night, I’d given her no indication that I’d even consider stepping into an octagon if she waited on the other side. I’d had no choice but to offer her what she wanted in return for what I needed. Her safe and alive.
And mine, even if I’d bartered for those twelve hours with the one thing I’d refused to do.
Tonight I’d do a search on Mia Anderson, much as my guilty conscience protested the idea. But if she wouldn’t give me anything to go on regarding her past, what choice did I have? At least maybe I’d find out more about her fight record from one of the underground blogs.
It might be a waste of time. The contents of most people’s lives never ended up in a web crawler. I had to find out for myself. I had to try something.
First I had to put in my time at the gym.
Despite having a fight next Friday myself, I wished I could skip my daily session. I’d trained for an hour last night while I was waiting for Mia to finish work, and I didn’t feel like going back today. Truth be told, I was sick of the workout grind. This whole thing with Mia had proved to me that I had to get out. No more dicking around. I would fight Giovanni Costas next week and her three weeks after that, then I was walking away.
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And that breakup would be a permanent one.
I had two more fights to get through first. Mia’s would be as exactly I said. Straight tactical takedown, end of story. She would try to mix it up with me, but I would shut her down as painlessly as possible. Now that I’d found a woman I could actually feel something for, she actually thought I’d harm a goddamn hair on her head?
Hell no.
Costas was a different beast entirely. I’d fucked around on my training for this bout, but I needed to get myself in gear. He was the new kid on the block, untrained, likely as green as grass. Rumor had it he had no problem skirting the rules, precious few that there were. Hunger and dirty tactics could make up for inexperience. They had for me early on, anyway.
So I couldn’t slack now. I wasn’t about to tarnish my near perfect record this close to the end because I was too cocky to get my hand off my balls.
I pushed myself through three hours at the gym. My day started with the machines, then I sparred with Timmins and a new guy, Emerson. Slater, my regular training partner and corner mate—and best friend—was on vacation, so I’d been doing the round-robin routine in his absence. Emerson seemed decent enough, and I’d probably spar with him again.
Assuming Timmins didn’t run him off with his big mouth. Coach liked to bitch about his entire gym being overrun with yuppies. He had a Tray, a Slater and now an Emerson. Where were the Johns, Toms and Bobs nowadays?
My quip about getting plenty of dicks instead had been ignored.
After listening to my coach go off for no reason for ten minutes, I did suicide runs and a long solo routine with the heavy bag. My final destination was the pool, where I swam laps and tried to ignore the brunette swimmer at my side. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to notice I wasn’t interested.
Her incessant attention led me to cut my swim short. How had I ever been fascinated by fake boobs? Now I much preferred real breasts that fit perfectly in my palms. Ones with small pink nipples that got hard just from me looking at them.
I hadn’t spent nearly enough time on them yet, but I would. Those twelve hours I’d stolen of Mia’s life would fucking rock her world. Then I’d work on stealing more.
On the way out of the gym, I stopped by the PT office and grabbed a couple of brochures. I hadn’t really looked into physical therapy as a possible career, but the time had come. After only one shift, I knew I couldn’t work at Vinnie’s for the rest of my life. Hell, I couldn’t say I’d even stay in the city.
If I had a reason to leave.
I made one more stop before I headed out. Timmins looked up at my knock and waved me inside his tomb-sized office. He’d been around a million years and was one of the few guys who got his own closet.
“What’s the word, Knox?”
I dropped into the chair across him and tried to keep my knees from bumping into his desk. Failed. As usual. “I need a favor.”