“Then he’s a very lucky man, indeed.” Gunter leans in to unzip the dress and pats me on the shoulder. “Good-bye, my dear.”
Forty-Five
Legend
Metal gratesagainst metal as a crew assembles the cage in the middle of the club on Thursday. I finished my morning training and came in to check on the setup before I go back for my afternoon session. We’ve slowed the pace to let my body rest, but continuing to go through all the moves keeps me sharp.
Q comes down the stairs and stops beside me. His suit and tie are a definite contrast to my sweats and T-shirt. And yet, this is my club. Something about that makes me smile.
“You get any more info from the mob on Moses?” he asks. “Why didn’t they just take him out?”
I look at Q. “The last words from Creighton Karas were that you don’t question the mob. I gotta believe they have it handled, or it’ll fuck with my head thinking Scarlett’s not safe. Karas said he’s adding guys to our security team too.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m asking. I got word from our security firm earlier. They said they’re being invaded, and Karas’s guys are going to be calling the shots.”
My head pulls back. “No shit?”
“I’m not sure if it makes me feel better or worse, Gabe. Why the extra measures if they’re sure they’ve got Moses contained?”
I glare at him. “Are you trying to fuck with my head?”
“No. I’m trying to decide if Scarlett should even come tonight.”
“What if that’s what Moses wants?” I ask, my voice hushed as I remind myself that Moses is even more calculating and devious than he used to be. “What if he knows I’m going to win the fight, and he thinks we’ll keep her locked up somewhere else? What if the safest place for her is here, especially with Karas’s security team running things?”
Q’s gaze drops to the floor for a few beats before he looks at me again. “Hell, you might be right. I don’t know the guy, but if he’s that Machiavellian, maybe it is.” He jams a hand in his hair. “I’ll be glad when this fucking week is over. If I get gray hair from this, I’m blaming you, asshole, and you’re paying for my dye jobs for life.”
“Good to see it’s your vanity calling the shots, brother.”
“Shut the fuck up, Gabe.” He leans over and gives me a rough hug. “Just don’t fuck this up. We’re all counting on you.”
With the weight of the world already on my shoulders, Q’s statement lands heavy. “I know. And I’ve got this.”
Thankfully, I’m not lying.
Forty-Six
Scarlett
When I wakeup Saturday morning, I already know Gabriel is gone. He told me what time he had to be at the gym to go over the game plan with Jeb one more time. I won’t see him until later, when he comes home from checking last-minute preparations at the club to shower. Then we’ll ride to the club together.
I told him about the suit from Gunter, and his whole face lit up. “No shit?”
I giggled. “You must’ve made quite the impression when you went to be measured. He likes you. He told me you’ve got his approval.”
The moment his face softened and quiet happiness settled over it, I snapped a mental image entitledGabriel Feeling Loved.It’s an expression I’m determined to see even more often.
Today is just the beginning. What we have is going to grow and change, and become old and wise like Gunter. All we have to do is get through tonight.
When I sit up in bed, I spot a box and a note on my nightstand.
“What is that?” I say to the empty room.
I pick up the note. In Gabriel’s bold handwriting, it reads:
Ladybug,
We’re sleeping in tomorrow. I love you.