I wish I’d put my heels on. Standing taller would make me feel less foolish.
“What are you up to tonight?” he asks in a low voice, his gaze roaming up and down my body.
“Uh,” I don’t lie well. “Stuff.”
He cocks his head. “Pretty fancy for just ‘stuff.’”
“For an employer, you spend a lot of time noticing my clothes.”
“Hard not to,” he mumbles.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
Nervous from the way he’s staring at me, I wave my cosmetic bag in his face. “Well, I have what I came for. I’m running late.”
“Date?” he asks.
“Does it matter?”
He closes his eyes briefly. “No. I shouldn’t have asked.” His gruff voice is laced with what seems like regret. “Go on.”
I open my mouth to confess my plans, then shut it. He’ll only try to stop me.
Jake: Is Aubrey with you?
Me: No. Why?
Jake: She’s late.
I’d ask for what, but I have a sinking feeling I already know.
Why’d I let her slip through my fingers?
No wonder she was all dressed up.
The ridiculous possessive streak in me was convinced she had a date. Asking questions I might not like the answers to seemed to be the smarter move.
I stalk out the back door, but too late. She’s gone.
To the Castle.
Unfortunately, I know how to find the place.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The directions Griff sent weren’t the most useful, but eventually, I find myself driving down an overgrown dirt driveway. Ten-foot-high chain link fence with barbed wire spirals at the top define the grounds long before the decaying brick building comes into view.
Large, portable floodlights—the kind usually only seen along the highway during night time roadwork—illuminate the circular driveway that loops around the building. The parking lot is full of trucks, motorcycles, and a lot of low-slung sports cars. Nothing too flashy.
I tuck the car into a corner spot, praying no one damages it. Celia won’t appreciate me taking her car on this particular adventure.
Threading my car key through a chain, I drape it around my neck and tuck it into my cleavage. My wallet stays in the glovebox. I stuff my heels, a hairbrush, and my makeup bag into a bigger tote and take a deep breath before stepping out of the car.
The leering and low whistles from the guys standing around outside make me wish I’d worn jeans and a hoodie. Surely this place has a bathroom I could’ve used to change into my ring girl gear.
At the door, a guy stops me with a hand in my face. “Name?”
“Aubrey. Griff asked me to work tonight.”
He scowls, but I scowl right back. No one told me I needed a secret password to enter.
“Royal’s in the back.”
“Royal?”
“That’s Griff, but don’t call him that here.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, already regretting tonight.
Griff is nowhere in sight. And I’m not sure where “the back” the doorman referred to actually is since it’s one big circular room. Luckily, I spot Jake inside a circle of other fighter-types. He’s engaged in an intense discussion with a big, bearded red-headed guy who appears to be inked from neck to fingers.
A bit of a hush falls over the guys surrounding Jake as I approach and he glances up. A welcoming smile spreads across his face.
“Aubrey!” Jake calls out, waving me over. “You made it.”
The guys surrounding him part, giving me room to approach. None of them say a word to me.
Jake gives me a friendly squeeze. He seems to command respect here, so his acknowledgment makes me feel less out of place. Protected even.
While Griff claimed he had no other ring girls for tonight, there are a number of scantily clad women milling around. I mention that to Jake and he snorts. “Ring bunnies. They’re here for a…different purpose.”
“Oh.”
His burly friend laughs, and Jake slaps him in the chest. “Aubrey, this is my buddy, Murphy.”
He nods at me. “Sully’s girl?” he asks, raising an eyebrow Jake’s way.
“No. Not Sully’s girl,” I snap. “His employee. Sheesh.”
Murphy’s not offended. No, he laughs at me and holds up his hands. “I must’ve been given bad info.”
One of the guys who’d whistled at me outside walks by and Jake glares, pulling me into his side. “Sully flip his shit when you told him you were coming tonight?” he asks once the threat has passed. Whether he’s feeling protective of me or that was his opponent, I’m not sure.
“I didn’t tell your brother what my plans were. It’s none of his business.”
Murphy nods toward the door. “Well, I’m guessing someone told him.”
I’m close enough to feel Jake vibrating with laughter as he watches his brother. “Bastard hasn’t come to one of these in years,” he mutters.
Sure enough, Sully’s striding in the same entrance I used and surveying the vast circular room. I turn away, hoping he’ll miss me.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with me.” My denial sounds weak even to me. I lift my chin at one of the pretty blondes pacing in front of the bathroom. “Maybe he came to pick up a ring bunny to bring home with him for the night.”
Jake laughs even harder. “Nah, my brother doesn’t bring girls to his house.” He raises an eyebrow, waiting for my reaction. I shrug not sure what to make of the information.
Griff waves to me and I wriggle away from Jake. “I better go. Griff wanted me to talk to him first thing.”
“Kiss for luck?” Jake asks.
I rear back. “Um, no.”
He screws his face into a mask of outraged surprise. “Not even one little kiss?” He touches his hand to his chest as if he’s heartbroken. “What if I get hurt in the ring and your good luck kiss is the only thing that could’ve prevented it?”
Murphy bursts out laughing. “Laying it on thick, bro.”
“Well, I guess you should be extra careful then.” I narrow my eyes. “What makes you think I’d kiss you for luck or anything else?”
He flashes a cocky grin. “No reason.”
“Why would…wait, what did your brother tell you?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“He’s special,” Murphy agrees, patting the top of Jake’s head.
“Are you fighting too, Murphy?” I ask.
“Maybe. I mostly came to scrape Jake off the ground after he gets his ass handed to him.”
“Bullshit,” Jake shoots back.
Underneath their growly man-teasing, I get the sense they’ve been friends for a while and Murphy’s here as some sort of protection for Jake. I also notice some of his tattoos are similar to Sully’s friend, Wrath.
Maybe Sully’s not as clean-cut as he wants people to think.
“Better run, Aubrey,” Jake says, tilting his head to a determined Sully weaving his way through the crowd.
I pat his shoulder and wish him luck before hurrying away to find Griff.
He meets me halfway and shakes my hand. “Thanks for showing up.”
I can’t tell if he’s sincere or being sarcastic because I’m late.
“You can store your stuff back here,” he says, pointing to a metal desk in the corner. He runs his gaze over my dress. “I guess that’ll do.”
“Gee, thanks.”
His mouth quirks. “I like you, Aubrey. You’re totally worth getting an ass-kicking from Sully.”
I roll my eyes as I slip my heels on and stuff my bag in the bottom desk drawer. “That’s ridiculous.” I turn and face him. “So, what exactly does a good ring girl do?”
“Follow me.” He waves me closer and I trot after him. We end up in a locker room and I avert my gaze from the half-dressed guys getting ready for their fights.
He stops so abruptly, I almost slam into him. Tottering in my heels to stay upright. I throw out my hand, bracing myself on the wall of lockers to my left.
“Easy, girl,” he says, grabbing my shoulder until he’s sure I’m steady. “Nervous?”
“Maybe a little.” My gaze drifts over the guys crowded in the back. “Are you a fighter too?”
“Not tonight. Remy and I never fight on the same night.”
“Your sidekick?”
“More like brother from another mother.” He whistles loud enough that the whole room quiets and points to me with both index fingers. “Aubrey’s helping Myra out tonight,” he shouts with authority. “Treat her nice.”
A few of the guys nod my way, but most of them go right back to their conversations with their crews.
“Who’s Myra?” I ask Griff.
He nods toward a tall, pretty blonde hurrying over. She’s graceful even in her five-inch heels and I feel like even more of a clod for almost tripping in mine.
“Hey, Griff.” She tries to plant a kiss on his cheek, but he brushes her off.
“Show Aubrey the ropes tonight,” he says.
Myra and I couldn’t be physically more opposite. She’s so tall she has to stoop to talk to me. Her platinum blonde hair is a mass of wild corkscrew curls down her back. She’s friendly and waits to make sure I understand everything she explains before moving on.