Bad Boy's Honor: An MMA Bad Boy Romance (9 page)

“Duke told me you’re teaching people combat today. Why are you doing that?”

“The same reason I do everything—money.”    

“Not to help people and repay your debt to society?”

“I spent five years in prison,” he replied. “I’ve already repaid my debt to society.”

“Okay, well maybe I’m doing this for the money as well. Does that make you feel better?”

“You don’t know what it’s like to truly need money. Besides, I’m sure you have a fat inheritance to live off now.”

I stared wide-eyed at him. “Please tell me you didn’t just use my mom’s death to prove a fucking point?”

Riker shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean… whatever. Just keep out of my way.”

He stormed off again and this time I didn’t attempt to get the last word. I hated to admit it, but he’d got a reaction from me. Had I really chosen my future career just so I could walk around feeling proud of myself?

Worse still, if that’s the reaction Riker had to me, what would everyone else think? I wouldn’t be much of a social worker if I couldn’t connect to any of my clients. I thought hanging out here for a few months would do some good, but I stood out like a sore thumb among all the muscle-bound men and women here.

I had to at least try. Mom would have never backed down so quickly. Besides, there were worse places to spend the day. At least I’d be in tip-top shape by the time I started my new job. And if it all went badly, there was still time to let Child Welfare Services know that this whole thing had been a big mistake.

I headed to the exit and did my best not to look at Riker as I walked past. He was in the far corner setting up the space for his first combat class. I shouldn’t have expected much from him. He was a convict and fighter. Hardly an upstanding member of society.    

Part of my body didn’t agree with my brain’s rationalization. In one way, Riker was every bit the man I wanted right now.

One thing was for sure, I would have to stay out of his way like he’d asked. For both our sakes.

Nora did exactly as I’d asked. She kept out of my way.

Not that I blamed her after what I said about living off an inheritance. That was a shitty thing to say to someone who’d lost her mom. She’d just riled me up with talk of hanging around and watching people train.  

I hadn’t meant to turn on her that quickly. I’d gone from wanting to screw her again, to not wanting to be anywhere near her in the space of a few seconds. She’d pressed buttons that were better left untouched.

I had experience with social workers. We’d been through a fair few in my family growing up. A couple had made a genuine effort at helping, but the rest were more concerned with their own careers than actually making a difference. They wanted to help, unless it meant actually coming down into the rough part of town and showing their faces. Then they were suddenly nowhere to be found.

Nora probably wasn’t like that. In fact, she definitely wasn’t like that. She’d been here every day for the past week, showing up at seven in the morning and not leaving until the evening.  

Duke loved having her around, and the two of them talked whenever he had a free moment. I had no idea what they found to talk about other than Nora’s mom, but there was rarely a quiet moment between them.  

When Nora wasn’t talking to Duke, she was chatting with the other members at the gym, including one of my sparring partners Mike and, more awkwardly, a few of the women I’d hooked up with here. I kept a particular eye on those conversations.

Occasionally I spoke to the other guys and asked them what they thought about Nora. They all liked her. None of them had a problem being gawked at by some college graduate who’d probably never so much as gotten detention let alone a prison sentence.

I’m sure it didn’t do any harm that she was cute as hell. When she smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back. I saw the toughest, hardest men I knew break out into big child-like grins when talking to her. She had them eating out of the palm of her hand in minutes.

One guy told me that he’d spilled all the details about his arrest to her—details he hadn’t told anyone else at the gym—after just an hour talking to her. I could see why. Her eyes told you she could be trusted. Even from across the room I could see it.

Nothing she’d done in the past week had justified my anger towards her. I already regretted it, but apologizing wasn’t exactly one of the skills I’d picked up in prison. Besides, even though I was cold towards Nora, that was nothing compared to the grief she got from Gayle on a regular basis.

Gayle found any excuse to have a go at Nora. If Nora left an empty plastic cup of water around for even a second, Gayle was on her like a shot. If Duke and Nora spoke for too long, Gayle would find a reason to break them up. It was obvious and painful to watch.

I did sympathize with Gayle, and hated seeing her torturing herself like that, but there wasn’t anything I could do to help. Despite having an eventful sexual history of her own, Gayle tended to get insanely jealous when it came to women from Duke’s past. I’m sure she hated having a constant reminder of Duke’s former lover around the gym every day.

Eventually Gayle snapped.  

I didn’t see what caused the argument, but it was almost certainly something minor. I came up from a set of chest presses and saw Gayle laying into Nora and pointing her towards the exit.  

I took my headphones off and walked slowly over towards them. I didn’t want to get involved, but Gayle was stronger than many of the men here, and Nora was tiny. It would be like me going up against… well, pretty much any other man really. Not a fair fight.

“It’s about time you left,” Gayle yelled. “I’m sick and tired of you hanging around here all day. Go and conduct your research project at a coffee shop like everyone else your age.”

“Duke said I could be here,” Nora replied. She spoke quietly but with conviction, and her body language suggested she wouldn’t back down quickly. That could be dangerous.  

“Well I’m saying you can’t. You’ve been here for a week already, gawking at everyone like they were animals in a fucking zoo.”  

I cringed as I heard Gayle use the same words I had last week. Had they sounded that cruel when I’d said them as well? No wonder Nora hadn’t come near me all week.

“No one else seems to mind,” Nora insisted. “I’m not getting in anyone’s way.”


I
mind, and you’re getting in
my
way,” Gayle snapped.  

“Look, if Duke asks me to leave, then I will leave, but otherwise I’m staying put.”

A few seconds of silence fell between them, but neither woman looked away. This would be the perfect opportunity for me to break the two of them up, but if I did that then they’d just end up in the same fight later when I wasn’t around. Probably best to let them have it out.

“What are you even hoping to accomplish out of all this?” Gayle asked. “Do you just want to go around bragging about how the rich girl spent time slumming it in a rough neighborhood?”

Nora might not fit in around here, but I wouldn’t have described her as rich either. Rich people didn’t know how to fit in around men like me. Nora had managed that just fine. She might be well-spoken, but she was genuine with everyone. Gayle would be able to see that if she didn’t hate the idea of Nora’s mere existence.

“This is far from my first time in a rough neighborhood,” Nora replied. “Mom was a public defender. I spent half my childhood in places like this because she had to take me with her to see clients. I just want to get to know the people here. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Duke?” Gayle asked. “That’s who you want to get to know, isn’t it?”  

Nora looked like she was about to deny it, but instead her shoulders slumped down slightly and she sighed quietly.  

“Fine, yes. I would like to get to know my father a bit better. Happy now?”  

Nora didn’t give Gayle a chance to respond. She stormed off in the direction of the changing rooms, walking past me without so much as a second glance, and came out a few minutes later with her bag.  

“You’re leaving?” Gayle asked, as Nora walked past her.

“Yep,” Nora replied. Gayle had gotten what she wanted, but she didn’t look happy about it. Nora stopped in the doorway, and turned back to face Gayle. “See you tomorrow,” she called out. A few of people behind me waved her off. She’d made friends with almost everyone here already. Quite the achievement.  

Gayle wouldn’t cause any more problems. Whatever it was bothering her, she’d gotten it off her chest, and she now knew Nora wasn’t a pushover. Gayle couldn’t help but respect that, at least.  

And neither could I.  

I had judged her based on stereotypes of what a lawyer’s daughter would be like, even though I was quick to criticize when people did that with me.  

Gayle was my fight promoter, and she ran this place in Duke’s absence. She wasn’t a woman to be taken lightly, but Nora hadn’t been at all fazed by her. Not outwardly at least. I suspected that she was a little shaken up by the whole thing, which was why she headed home early, but she still put up a good fight.

I could apologize to her tomorrow morning. Then I could be the one talking to her for hours on end when I was supposed to be training.  

That was an awful idea on so many levels. Any distractions from training were to be avoided, but then she’d been distracting me anyway just by being around the gym. Mostly, it had been a positive distraction. I’d been lifting more these last few days, and I hadn’t felt this good physically in a long time. Mentally, though, I was all over the place and that was largely due to Nora.

Then there was Duke. My boss and mentor. What the hell would he say if I started fooling around with his daughter? Again. My body wanted her, and it usually got what it wanted when it came to women.  

No, I had to keep my distance. I wouldn’t apologize for what I said, and I wouldn’t make an effort to talk to her. She’d be gone in a few weeks or so, and then I could get back to focusing on the fight.  

Many good fighters had lost their way because of a beautiful woman. I couldn’t let that happen to me. I had a fight to win.

I was still shaking when I got home. That was the closest I’d been to getting in a fight since Natalie stole my lunch in third grade. For Gayle, that probably wasn’t the first fight she’d had this week.

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