Fighting Dirty
Page 67

He liked her.
This time, taking her advice, he shot in, pinned her down and held her there. “From here,” he said, “I’d start throwing some elbows to soften you up, then go for a submission.”
“Perfect,” she crowed, as if he’d just passed a test of sorts.
Armie disengaged, stood and offered her a hand. “It’s a good strategy, Dakota. Thanks.”
It was then that they realized Justice just stood there, shocked. Dakota saw him, grinned and headed his way. Justice backed up, but Armie already knew it wouldn’t do him any good.
“Every day,” Simon lamented. “I deal with that every day.”
“Lucky you,” Armie told him with a slap to his back.
Simon shook his head, then grinned. “Yeah.” He turned to help Armie remove his gloves. “She could compete, but she’s not interested. She’s more into her music and her work with abused women.”
Armie knew Dakota performed in a band. Someday he wouldn’t mind watching.
“Take tomorrow off,” Simon told him. “I mean it. A full day of rest.”
“Got it.” Armie knew he’d still jog. Had to or he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. But now that he had Rissy around in more interesting ways, a day off sounded like a great idea.
He was more than happy to make the most of every available second with her.
When he got to the locker room, he showered, dressed and checked his phone. On the screen was a message. Rissy was here.
Smiling, he called her back. It took four rings before she answered.
“Armie, hi!”
“You sound busy, babe. Everything okay?” After the robbery, he’d stopped thinking of her work environment as safe.
“Crazy busy, but yes, I’m fine. Just running late and I wanted you to know.”
Checking in with him like they were a regular couple. Armie liked that a little too much. “Thanks. I was just on my way out. Want me to pick up something for dinner?” Rissy had a thing about cooking. It often seemed she cooked like he ran, to work out her frustrations, or just because she enjoyed it.
She hesitated, said something to someone at the bank, then replied to him. “Okay, sure.” Distracted, she added, “Whatever you feel like having is fine by me.”
He felt like having her. “Hungry?”
“I missed lunch, so yes, I’m starved.”
Armie frowned. She hadn’t had breakfast, either, and it concerned him. “You need a more regular meal routine.”
She ignored that, saying, “It’s crazy, but I’ve been hungry at the oddest times.”
Stress? Armie wondered. Merissa wasn’t one of those ladies on a perpetual diet, but neither was she a big eater. She ate what she wanted, cooked often and enjoyed dessert whenever the craving hit. “I’ll pick out something good,” he promised.
“Thanks. I should go.” She made a kissing sound into the phone. “See you soon.”
Even after the call ended, he stood there grinning.
“Sap,” Leese said as he stepped out of a shower stall.
Armie tucked away the phone. “With good reason.” He turned to Leese, then did a double take at the addition of muscle mass. “You’re getting ripped.”
“A sap and a perv.”
Armie paid no mind to the insult. “Not that you didn’t have a good base to start with. But all the extra time you’ve put in shows.”
Leese gave him a look, then relented. “Maybe. But I’m still not as fast as I’d like to be. And my ground game is lacking.”
True enough. Leese showed promise, but none of it came to him naturally. “Give it time.”
Towel slung over his shoulders, Leese headed for the locker and drew out his boxers. “Or,” he said, “I could rethink all of it.”
With his shoulder propped against the block wall, Armie crossed his arms and tipped his chin at Leese. “That what you’re doing?”
Leese pulled a shirt on over his head, then sat to pull on socks. “Here’s how I see it. I’m good enough to have a significant edge against most yahoos on the street. But in the cage? Against guys like you or Cannon?” He met Armie’s gaze. “Not a chance.”
There was a dose of honesty for you. Armie silently agreed, but said nothing.
“The idea of competing and always coming up short doesn’t excite me much. I love training, so I can’t see ever leaving that. But I was thinking...”
When he trailed off, Armie asked, “What?”
“Just between us?”
Curiosity piqued, Armie nodded. “Sure.”
“I actually wouldn’t mind some input.” Leese pulled on jeans, then sat again to tie up running shoes. When he finished, he stood to face Armie, tugged at his ear, then explained, “There’s a security firm up north from here. They’re looking to add some bodyguards who’d get hired out—personal protection type stuff.”
Hadn’t seen that coming! “A bodyguard? No shit?”
“No shit.”
First Armie had heard of it, but damn, he liked it. “Sounds fucking awesome, dude.” Grinning, he held out a fist.
Wearing his own grin, Leese bumped his fist to Armie’s. “I’d have to carry a gun, along with some other equipment. And you don’t get to pick your assignments so if you’re thinking it’ll always be some sexy lady, with me playing Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard, I’m pretty sure it’s usually out-of-shape businessmen and visiting dignitaries that need the muscle.”
“It’s still totally badass.”
Leese laughed. “I plan to stay in shape, and I can’t see ever giving up my workouts—”
“It’s in your blood.”
“Yeah.” Stuffing his workout clothes into his gym bag, Leese said, “It wouldn’t happen for six months or so. I need to qualify, pass a background check, get in some time at the shooting range, stuff like that.”
“But you’ll be moving out of Rissy’s house?”
“Eventually, yeah. But hey, I figure by the time I need to go, you’ll have things worked out. Right?”
Six months. Who knew if he’d even be in Rissy’s life at that point? So much could happen between now and then.
So much was happening now.
Dodging the question, Armie asked, “How do you like the house so far?”
“It’s good. Lots of room.” He hefted his heavy bag. “Been quiet, too, in case you’re wondering.”
Shrugging, Armie said, “I figured you’d mention something otherwise.” Still chatting amicably, they left the rec center together.
The night was dark earlier than usual and fat gray clouds rolled one over the other, blocking out any light from the moon.
Leese looked up at the sky. “Storm’s coming in.”
“Looks like.” They separated, Leese heading to his truck, Armie strolling toward his across the street and in a vacant lot. He was almost to it when a shadow shifted away from a squat, squalid building. He paused, eyes searching...
“Hey.”
Bray. A tidal wave of relief rushed through Armie. Caught between grabbing the kid up in a happy hug and giving him a stern lecture for scaring him, Armie stopped, his feet planted, his heart thumping heavily. He had him now, and this time he’d make sure Bray got the message.