Full Contact (14 page)

“What’s going on? How can you even ask that question?” I turn to face him, my body shaking with anger. “When I painted the other night…it was supposed to be just between us. I thought you understood that. I wasn’t opening a door that I closed years ago. This is who I am now. Ink is what I do.” My hands tremble and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Just because I let you see that side of me doesn’t mean that’s who I am anymore. You saw what happens to me when I open that door. I felt exposed out there. Vulnerable. I promised myself a long time ago I would never feel that way again.”

He studies me for so long, I look away. Finally, he folds his arms and leans against the doorjamb. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does letting people know you can paint make you feel vulnerable? Everyone in the shop knows you’re an artist. They see your work every day. Is it such a stretch to let them know you paint too?”

“You don’t understand.” My voice rises in pitch. “You don’t know me or why I stopped painting. I can’t go back. I have to keep moving forward. You can’t just railroad through my life and decide I should paint again. Just like you can’t go behind my back to find out what happened to me. It’s not that simple.”

“I don’t understand because you won’t talk to me.” Ray lets out a breath and turns to the door. “The problem isn’t that I don’t know you, but that you don’t trust yourself enough to let me in.”

* * *

The shop is inundated with fighters for the rest of the week. We are so busy that Christos cancels his gig, Rose divides her time between reception and sterilizing equipment in the autoclave, and I am partially distracted from the fact Ray hasn’t called, but then, coward that I am, I haven’t called him either.

Doctor Death comes in for his arm cover, and I ink my best broken heart ever into his skin while he tells me that relationships are not worth the heartache and it is easier and safer to just sleep around. When I tell him I think he just may be right, he squeezes my hand and tells me we can have a more intimate conversation about it next week when we’re alone in the treatment room and I’m doing his ass.

Friday morning, we get a new walk-in off the street, Yuri, who makes even Rampage seem small. The massively muscled, tall, blond Dolph Lundgren look-alike watches Rose and I from the client sofas while we rejig the morning schedule to fit him in, his ice-blue eyes so piercing I shiver. Rose whispers that his gold bracelets, blockhead haircut, and the multiple gold rings on this left hand, coupled with his dark, fine wool suit, scream Russian mafia. She thinks he is more terrifying than attractive and not worth the effort of her making a play. I whisper back that she has made a wise decision. She has enough men to juggle, and Yuri doesn’t seem the juggling type.

Although I have a slot free, when he pops his knuckles and cracks his neck, I foist him off on Duncan. I get enough nonverbal aggressive communication from Tag and Ray. I don’t need any more.

Turns out Yuri is a talker. While he waits for Duncan to finish with his client, he tells us he’s been in the U.S. for five years and is very interested in MMA fighting. He asks lots of questions about the club and some of the fighters. He even knows of the Predator, which is curious, since Ray only fights on the underground circuit and not for the club. But if he’s interested in fighting, it makes sense that he’d know about the underground fights.

Slim returns that afternoon, after spending the week trying to speed up the renos at the old shop. I catch him in the staff room and apologize again for not being able to do the mural and forcing the team out of our new digs. He tells me it isn’t my fault, and this wasn’t his first altercation with Torment. They’ve been butting heads over the division between managing and owning the shop, but mostly over me.

“Me?” I pause on the threshold of the doorway and look back over my shoulder. “What do I have to do with it?”

“He wants you to run this shop. He’s been angling to poach you away from day one.”

“You’re crazy.” I gesture vaguely around the tattoo parlor. “Look at this place. It’s every artist’s dream shop. He could get anyone. He could pull in some big names, make it one of the top shops in the city.”

Slim’s forehead wrinkles with consternation. “He wants you and he’s the kind of man who gets what he wants. Anyone with half a brain can see you’re a gifted artist, and you’re building a client base here faster than you ever did at my studio. He sees your potential, same as me. If you want to stay, I won’t get in your way. But if you really don’t want what he’s offering, you’d better be prepared when he walks through that door. He’s not going to take no for an answer.”

We finish our last clients just before eight p.m., and I offer to tidy and lock up just for the opportunity to have some time alone before the big fight. After I’m finished, I sit on the client couch and stare at the bare wall where the mural is supposed to be. If this was my shop, I wouldn’t paint a mural on the wall. Instead, I’d fill the space with paintings from local artists. Give people a chance to be seen.

If
this
was
my
shop.
Am I really even considering it?

The door opens and my breath catches when Torment walks in and joins me on the couch. He’s wearing only his fight shorts with a towel around his neck, no doubt ready to tear Ray limb from limb at the fight tonight. He is broader than Ray and more muscular. Taller too. But for some reason, his toned body does nothing for me—especially when he’s intending to pound on Ray.

“Busy day?”

“Yeah.” I look over at him and raise an eyebrow. “Slim thinks you sent all those fighters this week to keep us too busy to pack up.”

“He’s right.”

Startled by his candor, I bite my lip. “He also says you’re trying to steal me away from him.”

“True. You’re wasting your time in his shop. You have the drive and personality and talent to make this place great. I don’t want to see you throw it away.”

My hand clenches by my side. “I’m happy with Slim. And he would never forgive me if I abandoned him.”

“Slim is safe,” he says. “His shop is comfortable. You have a pretty good idea who’s going to walk in the door every day. But he’s got no ambition, no drive. Safe is good when you’re starting out, but it won’t let you grow. You need to spread your wings. Take a risk. Grab this opportunity with both hands even though it scares you.”

“So, is this your poaching technique?” I raise an eyebrow and lean back on the comfy leather couch. “Tell your target it’s for her own good and her life will be better if she comes to work for you?”

“I do what it takes,” he says with a laugh. His smile fades. “But it’s not just me. Slim knows it’s time for you to go. He sees how you’ve changed since you’ve come to Redemption. That’s why he’s overreacting.”

Squirming in my seat, I stare at the wall. He’s right. I do feel different since I started working here, but I chalked it up to being in a beautiful shop and knowing most of the clients. And Ray. He has awakened things inside me I thought I’d locked up with my paintings so long ago. Hope. Desire. And a longing to be free.

Torment waits while I lock up and we walk through the gym, toward the ring set up for his match with the Predator. Despite our altercation this afternoon, I would never miss this fight, especially since he’s fighting because of me.

“I’ve known Ray for a few years,” he says, stopping when we reach the ring. “Keeps his personal business to himself. He’s never once asked me for anything.” Torment stares at me and I shiver under the force of his gaze. “He came to see me on Monday. He asked me to take back my ultimatum.”

A ball of emotion wells up in my throat, tightening my chest. “Oh.”

His face softens. “Actually, he didn’t ask. He told me that’s how it was going to be. I thought you should know.”

My heart swells at the thought he tried to make things right. “Thanks.”

Torment smiles an evil Torment smile. “Of course, I said no.”

* * *

“He said no?” Makayla’s voice rises to a shriek when I share Torment’s parting words with her, Jess, Shayla, and Amanda on the bleachers overlooking the fight ring. Soft and curvy, with auburn hair and bright green eyes, Torment’s girlfriend is almost his opposite in every way.

“Oh my God.” Her brow creases in a frown. “Sometimes Torment can be such an ass. Just wait until I get him home. I’ll bet he said no to wind the Predator up. He likes to psych out his opponents before a fight.” She grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Don’t worry about anything. You won’t have to leave the studio. I’ll give him a no he won’t forget. One night alone in his bed after he’s all revved up after a fight will teach him a lesson. I’ll have him eating out of my hand by morning.”

Shayla pulls out a bottle of vodka and some Dixie cups and pours us all a shot. As we drink, Torment, Renegade, Blade Saw, and Tag amble over to our bleachers and then stand semi-clustered below us.

“What’s going on?” Jess frowns when Blade Saw looks up over his shoulder and winks.

“They think we’re going to be ravaged by a horde of inebriated, overexcited fighters so they’ve set up a defensive zone.” Amanda twists a strand of her long, blond hair around her finger. When I first met her, I knew right away she was the woman who had broken Jake’s heart. Not from her breathtaking good looks, but from the way he stood, shielding her with his body, protecting her from me.

Jess chokes on her vodka and her smile fades. “Blade Saw isn’t like that. He’s more of a friendly protective type. He’d be like, ‘Hey, guy, you want me to buy you a beer so you have something else to do with your hand than put it on my girl’s ass?’ And then he’d be all cool about it. Become best friends with the dude. Not much gets him riled up. He’s probably down there because he feels he should, not because of some primal protective instinct.”

“So are you with him or not?” Makayla tilts her head to the side and gives Jess a questioning look. “I saw the two of you together at Amanda’s party.”

Jess gives a noncommittal shrug. “We’re sort of together, but it’s pretty casual. I like to leave myself open to options.”

I snort and almost choke on my vodka. Jess looks over and frowns.

“What’s with you and Ray?” Amanda leans back on the bleachers, her lips quivering with a repressed smile. “You guys put on quite a show at my place. Never thought I’d see Ray hook up with someone.”

Now it’s my turn for noncommittal. “We’ve hung out a couple of times. It’s nothing serious. Neither of us wants a relationship.”

Amanda and Makayla share a glance, and then Amanda lifts an eyebrow. “Really?”

My stomach clenches. Ray does PI contract work for Amanda and, according to Tag, they are also good friends. Does she know something I don’t know?

“Really.”

She gestures to the alpha male cluster at the foot of the bleachers. “So why is he switching off with Tag down in the defensive zone?”

Twisting Jess’s ring around my finger, I look down and spot Tag heading to the other side of the gym. Ray is talking to Renegade, just below us, his beautiful body, clad only in fight shorts, gleaming under the overhead lights. In the space of a heartbeat, four days’ worth of longing sweep over me, stealing my breath away, and in that moment, I want him more than any man I’ve ever wanted before. Ray looks up as if he knows I’m watching. We stare at each other for what seems an eternity, and then he turns away without so much as a smile.

Crushed, I sigh and meet Amanda’s sympathetic gaze. “See. Nothing serious.”

We join the crowd in a cheer as Torment and Ray enter the cage. Torment is about an inch taller and two inches broader than Ray, but Ray’s muscles are sleek and more defined. He’s wearing purple fight shorts with yin-yang symbols down the sides, an odd choice for a fight. Doesn’t Taoism advocate unity?

Shayla blows a whistle and Ray throws a few jabs at Torment, then follows up with a hard shot that drops Torment to his knees. The crowd gasps, and so do I, but for a different reason.

“Something’s wrong.” I grip Jess’s arm. “He’s not fighting the way he usually fights. He never feints, and his punches weren’t controlled. Usually he feels out his opponent. Dances around the ring a bit. And look how tense he is. His face…his stance. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s angry, but usually in a fight he keeps his emotions contained.”

“Then maybe Makayla’s right.” Her gaze is fixed on Tag and not the fight. “Maybe Torment said something else to him, wound him up on purpose.”

Torment rises quickly to his feet and returns fire, coming after Ray with a dizzying barrage of fists and feet. Ray dodges every blow and snaps off a kick to Torment’s midsection that sends Torment staggering back two steps. But Ray follows him with another vicious kick, followed by a massive punch that drops Torment to the mat.

Makayla shoots out of her seat, her hand clamped over her mouth, and then descends the bleachers and runs out of the gym. My heart squeezes and I stand to go after her, but Amanda pulls me down.

“Don’t worry about it. She’s a paramedic and can handle blood and trauma, knife wounds and broken bones, but she can’t handle watching actual violence. Torment likes her to watch him fight, so she shows up, stays for a few minutes, and then has to leave. Usually, he gives her a bucket.”

Torment is up again, his face curled into a scowl, but before he regains his balance, Ray thrashes him with a brutal knee. An ache forms in my chest. This isn’t him. This isn’t the way he fights. There is no artistry in the way he is moving today. Only anger and pain.

Doubled over, Torment wavers and Ray follows up with a hard left and then a right, dropping Torment back to the mat. He follows Torment down, dropping hammer fists until Torment taps out.

The room stills. No one has ever beaten Torment on home ground before. And no one could have imagined the fight would be over in only one round. Finally someone claps. And then everyone is clapping and cheering. But Ray doesn’t take Shayla’s hand for the victory salute. Instead, he kneels beside Torment, says a few words, and pats him on the back. Then he leaves the cage, stepping to the side for Makayla to rush in with her medical kit.