“I’ll have to have a talk with Jax and Finn because he’ll walk right up in there and grab towels, water bottles, anything that has your DNA on it.”
“They won’t match it to the scene.”
“That doesn’t mean they should have all that,” Mag replies, gritting his teeth. “There are good cops and bad cops, and Detective Reynolds is an over-eager asshole.”
“You’re saying you wouldn’t put it past him to plant evidence?”
He nods curtly, gaze still moving to the rearview mirror every once in a while. Not enough to make it obvious, but enough to be sure that it’s Reynolds still following us. “We don’t leave anything behind at the gym, okay? And we’ll tell Jax and Finn they shouldn’t trust him.”
“Maybe I should find somewhere else to train,” I offer, stomach flipping. I hate involving them. “I don’t want to drag Jax and Finn into this. They’re trying to get their business going. They’re good guys.”
“Brawler’s already discussed coming back with them, and they want you there, Kyla,” he says, looking over at me as he parks the car out front of the gym. It sits inside a strip mall, taking up the majority of the building with Boxing Gym written in bold, black letters over the door. It’s pretty generic, but the place is well kept for the Heights.
I pull my phone out of my bag, hesitating before I click on the last text I got from Johnny. He told me to tell him everything, but I also don’t want to bother him at Candy’s either.
“What’s up?” Mag asks.
“Just wondering if I should tell Johnny about Reynolds now or later.”
Mag lifts his gaze to the rearview once more. Finally, I follow his gaze, twisting in my seat like I’m getting something from the back and see a gray sedan drive slowly by the gym and continuing, turning the corner at the next intersection.
“Tell him I have it handled, but he’ll want to know now.”
I type out the text and hit Send before we get out of the car. When we walk inside, relief shakes me. A training gym has been one of the few constants in my life. Finn jogs forward, his light hair down, caressing his shoulders as he moves toward us. “Damn girl,” he says as he laces his arms around me. “You’re like a magnet for fucked up shit.”
“Don’t I know it,” I grumble, squeezing him back. “I’m glad to be here.”
He pulls away, grinning at my arm. “Looks like you have better use of the hand. I was worried since the last time we met you could barely open a window.”
I stretch my fingers out, flexing my wrist. “It’s healing nicely. The doctor said that since I was a boxer, it might heal up faster than others would, and I think he’s right. Mag hung a huge punching bag in my place, and I’ve been hitting it when I can.”
“When you aren’t in danger of dying, you mean.”
“Yeah, then,” I say, playfully punching him in the shoulder.
He chuckles, then looks behind us. “No boss man today?”
“Who? Johnny? Nah, he has business shit.”
Finn throws his arm around my shoulders and walks me toward the middle of the gym. Brawler is already hitting a speed bag in the corner, looking like he’s going to murder it, and Oscar isn’t here yet.
“What’s Brawler’s problem?” Finn asks, tilting his chin his way. “He’s been like that since he got here.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
Finn eyes me suspiciously. “No, what?”
I laugh with no humor. “Just you wait.”
Out of the back, Jax walks toward us, wrapping his hands with bright green wrap at the same time. He puts the end in his mouth as he tapes it up then bites the remainder off. When he gets to us, he places his hands on his hips.
“Is this okay?” I ask, looking solely at Jax. He’s always been the one who’s unsure about this arrangement, and he certainly wasn’t a fan of coming to see me at the PT place a couple of weeks ago.
“We’re good,” he says.
The bell above the door rings, and I stiffen. “What’s up, Princess?”
Oscar comes up on my other side, poking me with his elbow. “Same old stuff,” I tell him, having to shut my mouth before I drool. He’s wearing a tank top with overly large armholes. His tanned football chest muscles peek through the sides. He’s paired it with black athletic shorts that stop at his knees, showing off amazing calves.
“Just people trying to take you and kill you? That kind of thing?”
“You know it.”
“And spy on her,” Mag says, bringing the conversation around to Detective Reynolds and completely ruining the light mood.
“What?” Oscar snaps. The good humor that was on his face just evaporates.
“Let me get Brawler,” Mag says. He calls him over, having to yell his name several times before he catches his attention.
He lumbers over to us, and the strain in his body and face is apparent. I couldn’t comfort him enough yesterday. I couldn’t tell him everything was going to be okay as much as he needed. I hate that I couldn’t do that, and guilt lays over me.
“I have a feeling I’m about to eat my words,” Jax complains, looking between all of us. Lines form between his brows.
“Knock it off,” Finn chastises, pulling his shoulder-length hair around his ears. “They’re our friends.”
Brawler finally reaches us. “What’s up?”
I can’t keep my gaze off him. I want to go to him—hug him—but I can’t do any of that right now. Not with Jax and Finn here, and certainly not with Detective Reynolds spying on me. For all I know, he could be ogling us right now.
Mag launches into a spiel about what we witnessed on the car ride here, explaining why it’s a big deal though I think anyone with half a brain could figure it out. Everyone listens intently, Oscar cursing when he learns the news.
“So, you want to take back that invitation now?” I ask Jax. “I won’t be offended.”
“I’ll be offended,” Finn says, speaking up for me. “Nothing’s changed. The cops are trying to threaten you, and that doesn’t fly with us, does it, Jax?” His brother doesn’t respond, but Finn keeps going anyway. “We’ll continue like usual, only be more careful.” I admire his easygoing nature, and the lengths he’ll go to help me. He gives me a wicked grin. “Now, let’s hear it. Who are you fighting next?”
I lock gazes with Brawler, my tongue darting out to lick my lips. “Him.”
“Him?” Hesitantly, Jax and Finn follow my gaze, but return back to me. “Him, who?” Jax asks, gaze narrowed.
I shrug. “They’re putting me up against Brawler on Friday, and needless to say, both of us have to win for different reasons. We need a plan.”
Finn’s brows shoot up just shy of his hairline as he gawks between the both of us.
“A plan?” Jax asks, scoffing. “Two people can’t win the same fight. If that’s the case, you need a goddamn miracle.”
Yeah, that would help too. I wouldn’t turn one of those away, but I already know God doesn’t listen to me.