The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked) (8 page)

He snorted but didn’t point out that having a one-night stand wasn’t on the list of responsible acts. Instead he asked, “Do you want to take a shower first?”

“No, I’ll do it when I get home.” She sat up, scooted to the edge of the bed and looked around for her clothes.

“Kellie?”

“Hm?” She looked over her shoulder at him. He’d propped his head up with a pillow and had his arms clasped behind his head.

“You’re a cool chick. Sorry for calling you doll earlier.”

She shrugged and grabbed her underwear from the floor. “Don’t worry about it. I was a little nuts. You didn’t mean anything by it.”

He opened and closed his mouth, looking unsure of his next words. “Screw it. There’s no way to say this without it sounding bad. I owe you for the room, not sex. And if you want to scratch that itch again, call me.”

From any other guy she might have seen his words as offensive, begging for an easy lay, but Quin hadn’t set out to have sex with her. That was on her shoulders. She grabbed the rest of her clothes and began to dress, conscious of his perusal. At the door, keys in hand, she glanced over her shoulder.

“I might take you up on that, but it’s just sex.”

He shrugged. “I’m a guy, I like sex and I haven’t had much of it lately.”

She nodded and put her shoulder against the wall. Why did she feel sad about leaving? She rubbed her shoulder to keep from pressing her hand to her chest. “If you do decide to sleep with someone else, can I trust you to tell me? I don’t screw guys with girlfriends or other arrangements.”

Quin got to his feet and stretched. “Doll, I’m too busy to meet girls, much less have wild monkey sex very often.”

She chuckled and put her hand on the lock. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.” She slipped out of the room before he could stall her any longer.

Though she knew her body would be sore tomorrow, the feeling of being used hard relaxed her. Not only that, but the tussle with Quin before sex had released her pent-up frustration. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time, and it was good.

* * * * *

Quin slammed the broken security camera down on the pavement. The crunch and crash of glass and metal further breaking didn’t soothe his irritation. Instead he had a new target for his disgust—himself. This was no way to solve his petty vandalism problems.

“Mailbox, parking signs, punching bags, security camera, what next?” he muttered, bending to scoop up the pieces. The camera wasn’t even twenty-four-hours old. If he was lucky, the company would consider it still under warranty.

A shadow fell across his shoulders, alleviating some of the burning heat on the back of his neck.

“Hey, Coach. Damn, you just had those put in, didn’t you?”

He glanced up at his best fighter, Mike “The Mouse”, glad to see him on time for once. “Yeah, yesterday. I think I’m going to call the cops.” He rose, cradling the camera in his shirt. The bundle slapped against his stomach as he and Mike headed for the double doors leading into the gym.

“You know, Jacob was talking about some of the locals not liking us much.”

“Can’t help that.” The locals he referred to were members of the tight-knit Korean community. The previous owners had allowed the place to fall into disrepair and debt. He was creating something new. He wished they’d share his vision for something better.

Quin stepped through the doors and shivered in the sudden blast of cool air. Goose bumps broke out along his shoulders and down his arms. He wasn’t playing freeze out, but even with the air conditioner set at seventy-seven, it was cold in comparison with outside. The gym still had that new out of the box plastic smell.

When he bought the building, it was in foreclosure. The floor mats were rotted and the bags stitched and duct-taped back together. The weight equipment was mismatched and repaired, or left in a corner to gather dust and take up space. He’d cleared it out and begun all over.

The opening of the gym should have been a momentous occasion, especially after his less than amicable parting from Greg. He had a stable of mixed martial arts fighters to train and a healthy clientele that wanted access to his equipment. When he had his feet under him, he wanted to start offering classes for the recreational fighter.

There were plenty of guys who wanted to throw a few punches without stepping into the MMA octagon, and several women had called to see if he hosted self-defense classes or even children’s activities. Those weren’t avenues of business he’d anticipated, but they made sense, especially in a godforsaken state that doubled as an oven. Kids couldn’t play outside without running the risk of heat stroke or stepping in a crack in the ground and breaking a leg.

He dumped the camera in a box in his office and sank down in the mesh ergonomic chair. His shoulder burned from where Kellie’s nails had gouged tracks into his skin, and he had a bad case of carpet burn on his legs. Damn, she was the most interesting woman he’d met in years. And he’d lied to her.

A knock at his door brought his chin up. One of his new regulars stood half in his doorway. Though he couldn’t recall her name, he did remember that the dark-skinned woman with the neatly trimmed halo of wiry black hair was a Dallas cop.

“Hey, what’s up?” He stood and came around the desk, his hand outstretched. He added a smile as an afterthought.

“Hi, Quin.” She took his hand in a firm shake and thumbed over her shoulder with her other hand. “Have you seen the women’s locker room?”

His stomach sank. “No. Can you show me?”

“Sure.” She turned and led him to the remodeled locker rooms. She stuck her head in. “Anyone in here?”

No answer.

He held the door and followed her in. On the left, bathrooms and sinks lined two walls. On the other, lockers formed U-shaped sections every ten feet. It was noticeably warmer in the women’s locker room than it had been in the gym.

She walked to the far end, where a short hallway led to the showers. “I didn’t notice it right away. But I came in here to wash off, and that’s when I saw the busted-out window.”

He groaned and stepped into the shower room. The fogged glass was shattered and spray paint decorated the opaque shower doors.

“Thanks,” he remembered to say after a moment.

“I didn’t see any other damage, but you might want to report this. I can call someone.”

Quin shoved his hands through his hair. He had no idea who would do this. He’d been grasping at straws when he went to see Kellie in the first place; now he had nothing.

“Yeah, please. I would appreciate it.”

Someone really wanted him gone, but he had no plans to leave.

* * * * *

“But I had an appointment!”

Kellie grimaced at the shrill tones emanating from the front of the shop. The numbers for payroll were blurring together, so she pushed away from the desk.

Pandora was stranded at the receptionist desk with the same female client who’d come in every day. She saw Kellie and pointed.

“You were here yesterday. Where is Autumn?”

Inwardly she groaned while putting on her best customer service smile. The numbers crunched in her head, tallying up how much Autumn’s absence was costing them. She couldn’t keep fighting for someone who didn’t want to be with them.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She leaned her hip against the counter and shot Pandora a smile.

“Not good. I was supposed to get this tattoo, but Autumn hasn’t been here. Now she’s not here today.” The client waved a folded piece of paper as she spoke. It didn’t have quite the effect she wanted. Instead of looking angry and indignant, she appeared to be imitating a floundering bird.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. Autumn’s going to be out for a little longer. We didn’t anticipate this, so it sucks. If you like, Pandora or I can do your tattoo.” She didn’t dare look at her coworker. She could feel the daggers from her gaze already. “But that’s about all we can do.”

The lies poured off her tongue, leaving an acrid, bitter taste in her mouth. Although Kellie had called and even gone by Autumn’s apartment before work, the other woman was still a no-show. Kellie didn’t know whether she should be worried or pissed off.

The client grasped the long strand of plastic beads hanging around her neck with both hands. “I really wanted Autumn to do it. There’s no way she can come in for a little while?”

Kellie shook her head. “Sorry, no.”

Autumn’s potential client’s shoulders slumped and her expression was a cross between irritated and pitiful. If Kellie had to hazard a guess, she was someone’s spoiled princess, unaccustomed to hearing the word no. Lucky for her, Kellie was well-versed in the many uses of the word.

“Can you have her call me when she’s back?”

“Yeah, I have your contact information here.” She pulled out the slip of paper with her info just for spite. “Is this correct?”

She glanced at the paper. “Yes. Just have her call me.”

“Will do.”

They waited until the door had closed behind the client and she’d walked several feet before turning to each other. Pandora had dark circles under her eyes, no makeup and her hair was up in a ponytail. Ever since becoming serious with Brian, she’d gone the extra mile to look nice, even twisting Autumn’s arm into giving her a few makeup lessons, so the abrupt change didn’t bode well.

“Rough night?” It was about time they had at least one argument. It was healthy. All that mooning over each other wasn’t.

Pandora scrubbed a hand across her face. “Kinda.”

The back door rattled as it opened. “
Hola.
”

“Hey, Mary.” She turned and her brows lifted. “Hey, Sam.”

The teen nodded, his features obscured by a dark slash of hair across his face and the hood from his jacket he’d pulled up. Sam had served as the shop manager since he was thirteen. The last few months had shown how good Mary had it with him before the attitudes and work ethic had tanked to record lows.

Kellie stepped away from the desk and allowed Sam to assume his duties. Pandora peeled out and headed for the office, where Mary had disappeared.

“How’s it going, Sammy?”

He shrugged and pulled out his ear buds.

“That good huh?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s summer school going?”

“It blows.”

“Well, yeah, it’s summer school. It’s not exactly a party. If anyone comes in for Autumn, she’s a no-show today. Tell them she had a family emergency, and don’t tell them when she’ll be back.”

Sam nodded, already tapping out a beat on the desk with a pencil in one hand and a pen in the other.

She wanted to do something, anything that would penetrate the haze of teenage stupidity Sam had fallen into. But she’d been an only kid, and Grandma would have put her in her place if she pulled the shit he was pulling. It frustrated her to no end to watch Mary struggle to raise Sam on her own. It was a burden Kellie didn’t envy.

“I’m going to powwow with the girls in the office. Holler if you need anything.”

She didn’t wait for him to reply. The changes in Sam over the last few months were pronounced, as if someone had turned off the lights. She wanted to help, but she was overstressed as it was. Though after her romp last night, she was far more relaxed than she had been.

“There you are,” Pandora said as Kellie entered the office and dropped into her chair.

Mary and Kellie had desks facing opposite sides of the room. Both were repurposed pieces, painted and personalized. Pandora sat on the loveseat between the two desks, her legs curled up under her, brushing out her hair.

“What’s up with you? You look like crap.”

Mary shot Kellie a glare, which she ignored.

Pandora groaned and scrubbed her face again. “Brian and I had a fight after we got home from seeing Carly. I didn’t get any sleep. It was a hot mess.”

“How is Carly?”

Pandora chewed her lip. The silence ratcheted up the stress in the room, but also prepared Kellie for the inevitable bad news they had been waiting on.

“She’s good. She has control of all of her—functions—but they’re still not positive she’ll walk again.” Pandora dashed tears from her eyes. Her boyfriend had overcome a similar prognosis and now walked without any visible sign of his injuries. He still used a cane at times, but not around anyone but Pandora, a secret Kellie and Mary were sworn to protect.

“How do they know?” Mary asked.

“They don’t for sure, but the doctor told her to be ready to learn to live in a wheelchair.”

Kellie slumped in her chair. “Shit. That sucks. What did you guys fight about?”

“It’s stupid.”

Pandora didn’t reply, so Kellie prompted her. “About?”

“He wants me to move in with him, and I’m not ready to.”

“Not to take sides or anything, but you do realize you sleep at his place most nights, and he drives you to work half the time.” To Kellie, it made sense on an economic level. What was the point of keeping up two homes when they really only needed one?

“Yeah, but I’m not ready for that. Plus, there’s no room for me. He has the band shit still there. It’s like being in a fucking tomb.”