Branded

Pulling open the door to the station, I head inside, following the signs through the reception area pointing towards the truck bay where Fight Night is to be held. Halfway down the hall, I hear clapping and cheers, indicating the fights have already started. I step through the open doorway into the bay and I have to say, I’m pretty amazed by what I see. All of the trucks have been removed and the wide-open space has been transformed into a boxing arena. Right in the center of the room is a large, professional looking boxing ring, and there are two men in the middle duking it out. Several rows of chairs are set up all around the ring, currently occupied by people sitting down to watch the fight while a hundred or so other people are content to stand behind them, screaming and giving each other high-fives. Walking over to the cafeteria table next to the door, I pay the twenty-dollar entrance fee and make my way through the crowds of people to the only quiet corner in the place. Pulling a flask out of my purse, I discreetly tip the small, stainless steel container back and swallow a few huge mouthfuls of tequila. I feel a hand tap my shoulder and quickly hide the flask behind me. Being that this is a government building, I don’t think they would take too kindly to me having alcohol in here. Turning around, my eyes meet the bare, muscular chest of Dax. Even though the sight of him does nothing for me, I’m woman enough to appreciate the fine specimen that he is. I trail my eyes up his chest to find him smirking down at me.

“Go ahead, say it. I’m the hottest piece of man meat you’ve ever seen,” Dax says with a grin.

The tequila has made it’s way into my system, warming my skin and easing the conflict pounding through my brain, turning it just fuzzy enough for me not to care. Tossing my head back, I let out a full belly laugh before shaking my head at him.

“I don’t know how you manage to fit through doorways with your giant head,” I reply. “And man meat? Please tell me that doesn’t usually work for you.”

“It’s a tough job, but somebody has to do it,” he tells me with a shrug, holding his hand out in front of me. “Give me that flask you’re hiding behind your back.”

I raise my eyebrow at him as I bring the flask around and shove it into his waiting hand. “Going by your half-naked body and the gloves tucked under your arm, I’m assuming you’re joining in on proving your masculinity in the ring tonight. Should you really be drinking?”

He raises the flask in my direction in a silent toast before tipping it into his mouth.

“I could take any man in here with both arms tied behind my back and a whole bottle of tequila in my belly. Don’t worry about me, love.”

He hands the flask back to me, leaning closer so he doesn’t have to shout over all the yelling and cheering.

“I heard you have quite an eventful morning. I think I should be the one asking you if you should be drinking.”

I look away from his concerned gaze, scanning the crowd. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He tsks me and chuckles. “I’m well aware of the fact that you think you can take care of yourself, but this is getting serious. What happened today isn’t just about a love note taped to your front door. He tried to kill you, Phina. If DJ hadn’t been there to save you-”

“Don’t,” I stop him. “Don’t even finish that sentence.”

I’m pissed that Collin took it upon himself to call Dax and tell him about my father. It’s bad enough he had to tell DJ. I don’t need someone else in my life feeling sorry for me.

“We don’t even know for sure if it was him. It could have been an accident.”

Now it’s Dax’s turn to raise his eyebrow at me. “If you believe that, you’re not as smart as you look. I called his PO today after I got off the phone with Collin. Your father has yet to check in with him since he’s been paroled. He’s off the grid and no one knows where he is. I’m putting a cop on you twenty-four-seven and if you argue with me, I’ll have DJ spank your ass. I’m sure he’d enjoy it.”

I really wish they would let women participate in this fucking Fight Night. I’d grab a pair of gloves and beat the snot out of Dax.

What he’s saying makes perfect sense. I’m not an idiot, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I don’t need someone following me around, getting into my business. I like my privacy and the thought of some overweight, donut-eating annoyance trailing me like a puppy everywhere I go pisses me off.

“I swear to God, this guy better stay as far away from me as possible,” I concede with a frown.

Dax smiles before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me in for a tight bear hug.

“I’ll be nice this time and I won’t force you to tell me I’m right, even though it would be so nice to hear.”

Untangling myself from his arms, I shove him away and can’t help but laugh. Dax makes it easy to follow his directions when he can’t be serious for one second. I’ll never tell him that, though.

“Get away from me. You smell like sweat and testosterone. Go up there and kick some ass. If I’m feeling generous, maybe I’ll even place my bet on you,” I tell him with a laugh.

Pulling his gloves out from under his arms, he slides them on his hands, punching his fists together a few times while bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, motherfucker!”

The gong of a bell echoes through the room along with a deafening cheer and I watch as a few guys jump up into the ring to help their fallen comrade, practically dragging him out from under the ropes and down to the ground.