There was a pause on the line, long enough to make me suspicious as all hell. More so than I'd already been after hearing about the partial fingerprint.
"What?" Scott finally responded, sounding... weird. "What? No, no way. Of course I wouldn't... I wouldn't do that, Maddie. That's next level creepy. Who would even do that? What did the message say?"
I needed to swallow past a lump of dread and anxiety to answer him. "Forget it. We're about to drive through a tunnel, though, so the phone might cut out."
"Maddie, babe, tell me what's going on. I'm really worried about you..." Scott paused, then his voice hardened. "Did they accuse me of doing that? You can't seriously believe them! This is totally jealous, possessive behavior, babe. They can't handle you being friends with any straight guys, so they're eliminating the competition. Maddie, you know I—"
I ended the call, cutting his bullshit off mid-sentence.
Steele glanced at me as he slowed down and pulled over to the shoulder before stopping the car completely. We were way out of town on an open stretch of road with no one around for miles, and certainly no tunnels to interrupt reception.
Fuck it. Whatever.
"Are you okay?" Steele asked me in all seriousness.
I bit the inside of my lip, thinking. Was I okay? Scott hadn't exactly admitted to being involved with my stalker, but he sure as shit didn't sound innocent.
But part of me couldn't accept that he was actually a bad guy. It was the same part that didn't want to admit how bad my judgment had been in choosing a new friend.
"Yeah," I replied with a sigh. "Yeah, I guess I just didn't really want to believe he'd done anything... you know... creepy."
Steele grimaced. "Yeah, that boat sailed when he followed you to the shoot with Arch, then lied about using Bree's phone tracker."
I gave a bitter laugh. "Fair point. Can we just forget about Scott for tonight? We can deal with all of that when we get back tomorrow." I paused, giving him a suspicious look. "Although it sounds like someone already started dealing with it, hmm?"
Steele's eyes widened, and he held his hands up defensively. "Not me."
I squinted at him, not believing his innocent act for a second. Maybe he hadn’t physically dealt any blows to Scott for what he’d said to me, but Steele was fully aware that it'd happened.
With an easy grin, he shifted the car back into gear and we glided back out into the road. "But if it’d been me—not that it was—but if it had been, I'd be teaching him a lesson about grabbing my girl’s arm so hard she had bruises the next day. As well as teaching him some respect for women." He shot me a wink. "Hypothetically speaking."
Heaving another sigh, I turned my face to look out the window, letting my long, pink curls fall over my cheek. I shouldn't be encouraging that kind of Neanderthal behavior, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me all warm and fuzzy inside. The fact that they cared enough...
It was a new thing for me. But I loved it.
The crowd was in full party mode when Steele and I arrived at the event center. Tickets to see the fight were just shy of two hundred and fifty bucks a head, but the money was being donated to a prominent women's shelter in our area.
"Kind of on the nose to raise money for battered women by, you know, beating the shit out of another dude, isn't it?" I asked Steele quietly as we made our way through the well-heeled crowd. Tuxedos and cocktail dresses seemed to be the attire for the night, meaning we were woefully under dressed. Not that either of us really cared. We weren't guests; we were support crew.
Steele snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed me one. "Actually, Arch has been stepping up in his support of this charity lately, teaching people there is a huge difference between training in MMA to hone his skills in a highly disciplined sport... and spineless fucks who bash their women because they lack the balls to deal with their problems the right way." He tipped his glass up, drinking half of it in one sip. "Come on, let's go poke the angry bear and get him all worked up. I've got my money on a knockout in round one."
I grinned, taking a sip of my own champagne, and followed him through the crowd. "Nah, my bets are for a ground and pound TKO," I replied, already buzzing with excitement to see the fight. "Arch has a whole load of frustration to get out; a clean knockout is way too easy."
Steele laughed, his smile easy and his posture relaxed as he linked our fingers together. "You're just bloodthirsty, Hellcat. It's such a turn-on."
I couldn't even disagree with that. We made our way through the main hall and past the cage where the fighters would meet in just under twenty minutes. Steele led me through a service door, nodding to the security guard stationed there, then led me down a corridor bustling with waiters and other hotel staff.
The makeshift locker room they'd assigned Archer was really just a meeting room set up with a handful of chairs and a folding trestle table holding several bottles of water. Kody leaned against a wall, his arms folded over his chest as he gave Archer a pep talk. Archer himself was jogging in place and shadowboxing, warming up his muscles.
When the door closed behind Steele and I, though, their eyes locked on me, and Archer's brows raised.
"Fuck," he breathed, his eyes raking over my outfit. "Where the hell did you get that?"
I beamed, pleased at the reaction I'd gotten. "Oh, this old thing?" I smoothed my hands down the front of my pristine white hoodie-dress. "I've had it for ages, just never found the right time to wear it."
Archer prowled closer, his eyes pure predator. "That design was cancelled after Riot Night, Princess. You wanna tell me you were a fangirl before you knew who I was?" His smile was half disbelief, half smug satisfaction.
I shrugged. "What can I say? I sure as fuck wasn't at the Laughing Clown for the other guy."
He shook his head, his hands clasping my waist as he pushed me into the wall. "Kody, bro, have you got that marker pen?"
Archer reached his hand out, and Kody handed over a chunky black pen from his back pocket. With one hand pinning my chest against the wall, he made an amendment to my limited-edition, fangirl hoodie.
When he was done, he eyed his handiwork with total satisfaction and capped the pen once more.
"Much better," he commented, then grabbed the back of my head and tilted my face up for a bruising kiss.
"Caveman," I muttered when he released me, but he just brushed his thumb across my swollen lower lip and winked with a promise of later.
I sighed, peering down at my hoodie when Archer turned back to Kody. The black text across my chest had previously just read The Archer, and on the back was a stylized stag, like a watered-down version of the intricate tattoo on Archer's back. Now, though? My chest read The Archer's Girl. Back Off!
The bastard himself met my eye across the room as Kody finished taping his hands and scribbled a signature across the inner wrists with his marker.
"You ready to win, bro?" Kody asked as Archer flipped his hood up and took a quick sip from his water bottle.
Archer paused a moment before he replied, running his gaze over me and staring at his handwriting on my breasts.