"Both," he chuckles. "So you have some of your faculties left about you?"
I throw up my hands, "What the hell are you two nattering on like gossiping women about? I—"
My neck snaps back. "Fuck." I reel back from Arpad’s blow. The world tilts. I glance up from my prone position on the floor of the ring, to meet Arpad’s snickering expression.
I spit out blood, "Fucker."
"My pleasure." He holds out his arm and when I take it, he hauls me to my feet. My ears ring; pain fills the cavity behind my eyes. I shake my head to clear it. "Asshole." I train my gaze between the two grinning idiots.
"Now that we have that out of the way..." Arpad uses his teeth to undo the straps on the gloves.
"So..." He turns to me, "What’s gotten your knickers in such a twist, that you went down in the first round?"
"None of your business." I strip off my own gloves, drop them to my feet.
"Oh, but it is." Weston steps into the ring.
I glance up as they close in on me.
"What’s this?" I scowl, "An intervention?"
"You bet." Damian hangs over the ropes.
"The fuck you doing here, rockstar?”
"Heard you were having a moment." He grins.
I crack my neck. "So what, you flew in to gloat?"
"Of course." The light glints off Damian's golden blonde hair. "I was between concerts. What better way to use my down time, than to be around to witness another epic fall?" He waggles his eyebrows.
I roll my shoulders, "Sorry to disappoint, ol' chap, but you were misinformed."
"Oh?"
"You mean you didn’t shut down all of Selfridges to pick out the wardrobe for your woman."
I choke.
"Personally," Damian snickers.
"By the way, while you were at it, did you choose a ring?" Weston trains a glance in my direction, his countenance all serious-like.
"Do you guys have nothing better to do than trade gossip?"
"When it comes to you," Sinclair prowls forward, "there’s nothing better."
I scowl at him. "The fuck are you doing here?"
"Edward’s been delayed," Sinclair drawls. "The Father had to tend to an emergency with his flock, but he’s here in spirit."
"Shit, that’s a terrible pun, Sin."
He laughs, "It’s the environment." He glances around the space, "Why you can’t use the gym at one of your fancy hotels, I don’t understand. For a man who loves rare £400,000 smoke sticks, your choice of venue to get the shit beaten out of you, sucks."
"What’s wrong with it?" I glance around the shabby-chic environment.
Jace had bought the building next to the Claridge's, then left the run-down gym as-is.
I like it because, well… Occasionally, it's an interesting experience to slum it. Also, it’s the one place I can count on finding someone who can hold their own against me. Men who have their own devils to defeat.
"It has character, you gotta admit," Arpad grins. "Besides, it’s growing on me."
"Don’t laugh too soon, dipshit. It’s a fluke that you won today."
"The first of many, no doubt."
"Wanna go another round?"
"Only after Saint confesses." Weston claps me on the shoulder, "Come on, man. I have too much invested in this."
"The fuck you talking about?"
"We may have bet a million," he chuckles.
"Or two." Arpad folds his arms over his chest. "You did it then? You took her on as your sub?”
"Nope." I glance around at their faces. "I asked her to marry me."
Silence, then Sinner doubles over in laughter. "And you made fun of me for doing the same?" He chuckles, then laughs louder.
Weston holds out a hand.
Arpad glowers, "Don’t have a check book, nor a pen…"
"You don’t need either." Weston pulls out his phone from his pocket, swipes the screen, then hands it over to Arpad. "Key in your password, ol'chap."
Arpad punches in his numbers.
"Jesus F’ing Christ. I can’t believe this shit." I stalk over to the opposite side of the ring. "That’s it, I am outta here."
"Hold on, Saint," Arpad smirks.
"Don't leave us hanging now," Sinner chortles.
"Can’t believe you’re being such a pussy," Weston's voice stops me. "I mean, if you’re afraid of the woman..."
I turn.
Weston raises his hands, "If you’re in love or some shit, you can tell us."
I scowl, "Back the fuck up."
"Enlighten us then?" Weston grins.
"You remember when Sin here decided to fake a marriage with Summer?"
Sinclair scowls, "That was to lure her father out into the open."
I motion with my hand.
"The father who had a connection to the Mafia..." Weston rubs the back of his neck. "After whose death… Sinclair realized his true feelings."
"He married Summer, they lived happily after." Arpad drawls, as he removes his boxing gloves. "The fucking end."
"And blah-fucking-blah, yes; but what about the Mafia?" I undo the Velcro strip on one boxing glove, and take it off, then the other.
"We’re tracking them down." Weston leans forward, "The only clue we have is the name Adam Rhodes offered before he died."
"Which we aren’t sure is a lead or the mumblings of a man doped out on painkillers." Arpad rocks back on his heels.
"He was on his deathbed, so one would think there was some significance to what he said," Sinclair muses, stroking his chin.
"He mentioned a Byron and a Capo," Damian glances around the group.
I grunt, "Then, Sinclair and I got messages from an anonymous source who knew our phone numbers, and quoted Byron. There's something else."
Sinclair stiffens. Weston drums his fingers on his chest.
"I received a USB with a video. It was dropped off in an unsigned envelope to my office."
All of them turn to me.
"When?" Weston scowls.
"Right after Sterling's wedding." I rub the back of my neck.
"Why didn’t you tell us about this before?" Sinner growls.
"I am telling you now," I grunt.
"And?" Damian asks, "What did it contain?"
I step through the ropes, snatch up my phone, then straighten.
The guys crowd around and I play the video I'd downloaded from the USB.
Arpad swears, "That's the first evidence we have of that bastard."
"Considering we were blindfolded all through the incident—" Weston's voice tails off.
"Fucking, fuck." Damian growls.
I stare at the back of the
