Legend (Page 29)
“On his ol’ daddy’s list,” Pete says, “there’s blackmail, extortion, kidnapping—”
“Drugging my sister, harassing our team,” Brooke adds fiercely. “His father is the most despicable fighter in history. No scruples, he is pure evil incarnate who would do anything to win, no matter who he ran over, drugged, cheated, blackmailed, or—”
“Brooke,” Remy cuts her off gently.
She’s looking emotional. She drops her head back and is now staring at the car ceiling and blinking her eyes. Remy takes her chin and forces her gaze to his. “Hey. He’s a kid,” he states.
“When you’re up on the ring,” he says firmly, “you’re nobody’s kid. You’re you, your team, and that’s it. With Oz in the state he’s in, this kid’s up there alone.”
Brooke takes his hand, kisses his knuckles. “I trust you, Remy,” she says thickly, and when the car stops, she scoops Racer out and stares into the car interior when I try to maneuver myself to the door.
“You haven’t had time to have any fun here, Reese,” she says, stopping me from getting out.
But I shake my head. “Oh, no, I have a blast with Racer.”
“Go out with the adults tonight. There’s this party hosted by a huge fight lover. Diane’s staying in and she offered to sleep over with the little guy.” She smiles to convince me and heads away, and, reluctantly, I sit back by my window.
I look at Remy and he’s watching me speculatively. I say, “Thank you. For helping him.”
He raises his brows, laughs softly again, and says, “I’m not doing it for him, I’m doing it for me.”
“And him,” I counter.
He says nothing, simply lifts his brows as if surprised by me, then he hops out of the car to walk his son upstairs with Brooke.
Riley breaks the silence in the car. “A part of him misses Scorpion. No one gave him a run for his money like that man did. He doesn’t like his wins easy and that’s all they’ve been lately. Which is why he’s leaving the Underground.”
Pete nods. “This is his last season. The final match of the season will be Rem’s last.”
The two-story Denver home is pulsing with music inside. Fighters I know and fighters I don’t know bustle around with their teams, groupies, and the high-end Denver crowd. I’m not talking to anyone. Everyone knows better than to come near me. I suspect I’m putting out some major back-off waves, and there’s a wide radius around me that people are steering clear of.
I watch her in a lounge area. She’s with a couple of other women she just seemed to meet. The group is talking, but Reese isn’t. I watch her tuck her hair behind her ear, and not for a second do I miss the way her eyes slide over to meet mine. Her breasts coming up and down with each breath. Her eyes escape me again. Then come back.
To find me still watching her.
Every time they do this . . . her eyes, come back and hold . . . I get harder and harder.
I’m stone-hard and still waiting to make a move until she can’t take my stare anymore.
She shifts in place, then messes with her hair. I want to mess that hair too. I was taking it slow. But now she knows who I am. And I know who she is.
If I don’t grab her now, I’ll lose her from my grasp.
I don’t want more distance between us when there is already too much as far as I’m concerned.
I’ve wanted her closer. Every second since she said that I was with her.
She’s drinking a bottle of water, meeting my eyes across the rim as she takes a sip. She sets it down and stares at me. My blood is heading south faster than a thousand-ton drop. I’m slammed. I probably look like s**t. Oz sewed up my cut, and for sure it’ll scar this time around from his hands. That scar brings to mind the girl who said, He’s with me.
I am with her. And tonight, she’s with me.
She breaks her gaze, at last goes to her feet, and starts down the hall. I push away from the wall and start forward.
She looks back at me, and her eyes widen and her lips part, and I like that they part. I like that she knows, with every step I take, what it means.
♥ ♥ ♥
I COULDN’T SIT there anymore. Avoiding the bar, drinking my water while everybody talked about Avenger. And I felt his eyes on me, giving me a thousand knots in my stomach. I glance back, and he’s following me. He’s like a legend already. The juiciest, naughtiest word on everyone’s lips tonight is “Maverick.” The fact that he’s Scorpion’s son is threatening enough, but the fact that he has amazing talent and caught Remy’s attention is just cause for more gossip.
I don’t know a lot about his father. Only what I’ve heard from the team, and before tonight, I hadn’t really paid close attention.
All I know is that he was a bad man, and that what I feel when I look at Maverick just now should be bad.
I head to the ladies’ room, safe. Away from his eyes.
But not away from this aching, throbbing want inside me.
No sooner do I step inside than Maverick comes in behind me. I hear a pair of startled gasps from the two ladies by the sink.
Maverick opens the door and levels them with a gaze. “Out,” he says, firm and oh so quiet.
My eyes widen and a thread of fear and anticipation unfurls inside me.
He narrows his eyes as the girls quickly shuffle outside, then he kicks the door shut. We’re alone. So alone there could be nobody else in the world.