Emmett snorted and turned away, shoving his hand through his hair as he made his way to the other side of the room. “You want to talk about me getting my ass whooped or how I’m doing?” He peered at me over his shoulder, half bitter and half sarcastic.
“Why does it have to be an either or type of situation?” I hated that he questioned if I was here for him or for the Ashby family, but it was the nature of our work.
“It doesn’t.” His shoulders fell and he dropped down into a sofa near the window, wincing slightly. “Sorry, I guess I’m out of sorts.”
I nodded and stepped inside the room, taking the slightly uncomfortable chair pushed up to a desk Em had no reason to use. “You should be out of sorts; I’m fucking furious.”
His lips curled into a grin. “Yeah, thanks. But if you were really furious, you’d send me a shit ton of food like Kat did, since you were having lunch together.” I ignored the taunt because I wasn’t touching that shit with a ten foot pole. Not even a twenty foot one.
“Walk me through what happened.”
Emmett laughed. “So much for being furious,” he snorted under his breath. When his expression sobered, I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees and listened to every fucking detail.
“After the fight at Emerald Isle, I went back to the locker room to clear my head. The night was mostly a success but something didn’t feel right about Ravager’s win, and I didn’t want to think about it with fuckin’ cameras and microphones in my face.” His gaze damn neared pierced through me and I knew he suspected the truth, knew it in his heart, but he didn’t want confirmation.
“Anyway, the locker room was empty. Suspiciously empty right after a big fight like that. So, it took no time to grab up the House of Ashby swag and then I left, thinking I’d talk to the fighters in the morning. Chicken shit, but it is what it is.”
“That’s what you normally do after a fight?”
He nodded. “Not really. Usually the losing fighters want to talk a bit, maybe look at some tape. Since they were all gone, I decided to go home and have a drink. Forget about everything until morning.” He blew out a breath and leaned back as if he couldn’t get comfortable.
“Which exit did you use when you left?”
“Shit, I don’t know. I tried to get out through the west hall because it was closest to where I parked, but it was locked down for some reason.” I told him about the asshole following Kat.
“Same guy we spotted on HOA surveillance. Kat made sushi out of the motherfucker.”
Emmett snickered. “You’re proud of her, aren’t you? I don’t know how you’re okay with that.” I just shrugged. No need to confirm or deny anything yet. “Anyway, it took fucking forever to get out of the other exits, and I was too pumped up to pace around my apartment alone, so I went to House of Ashby.”
To an outside observer, Emmett’s activities might look suspicious, but he was a workaholic and I was fairly sure he had some PTSD he hadn’t dealt with, so I understood.
“Did you park out front?”
He nodded. “Yeah. The first spot right out front. Same place I always park. Just as I lifted my hand to shove the key into the lock, someone called my name.” His eyes slammed shut and his head fell forward. “Whoever called my name, it was from a distance. I turned to see who was calling me and the next thing I saw was a fucking fist barreling toward my face. I turned enough that it hit my cheek instead of knocking my eye out of the fuckin’ socket.”
My hands balled into fists and I had to control my anger because Emmett didn’t need this. Not now. Hell, he probably had his own fucking anger. “Shit.”
“I know,” he grinned. “That shot stunned me and took me to my knees, but his first two jabs were weak, and I got back to my feet, landing a cross and a kick to the ribs.”
“Sounds like shit was working in your favor. What happened?”
“That big fucker bull rammed me to the ground and then got on top of me. He landed blow after blow and you know,” he motioned to his face. “You can see the rest for yourself. It was a hell of a fight. Street fighter. Fucker had good reflexes and instincts. If I’d been watching him fight, I would’ve offered to train him.”
That was typical Emmett, able to find a silver lining in the darkest fucking cloud. “It’s a good thing I’m the hot one,” I joked, trying to lighten things up before I busted something. “Because those bruises are hideous.”
The bruises on his face started to fade but I could tell the body shots still caused him pain.
“That’s okay, I’m the smart one,” he said and flashed a halfhearted smile. “So smart that even though I didn’t get a look at his face while he pounded mine into the pavement, I saw that he was a white guy. Around six feet, about two-twenty. Drove off in an SUV…no wait, he didn’t drive off. He jumped in the passenger seat of a gray or silver Lexus SUV.”
“You remember a lot more than I expected you to.” I jotted down his description in one of those note taking apps and turned back to my brother.
“The bruises are healing nicely but you should take the time off that Sadie offered.” A few weeks away from the gym might be good for him. “A trip to the ocean might be nice.”
Emmett shook his head and let out a snort that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “It wasn’t really an offer so much as an order, which I’m used to. Hell I might end up on babysitting duty too,” he joked.
