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I can’t stop laughing. It shouldn’t be this funny, but it is.

I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of getting paid to sleep with a person before.

Everyone who knows me knows I’d never think that was a lucrative career.

Just goes to show that these guys have no clue who I am.

It’s surprising, since I grew up in this town, and it’s rare that someone doesn’t know someone I do or hasn’t heard about me in some way.

I’m not known as the friendly one in town, but I’m known.

Take it for what it is, good or bad—people have heard of me.

Not these two, though. And obviously not anyone in their club.

Guess they don’t do much in the underground fighting arenas.

Not that we have arenas. More like parking garages, abandoned buildings, the occasional basement—wherever the ones in charge find for the fight they want to put on for some yahoos in town who want to watch people beat the shit out of each other for nothing more than entertainment.

“Man, Lucky is going to be pissed.” Bane chuckles as he adjusts his stance, crossing his ankles and arms as he leans against my cabinets.

“Who’s Lucky?” Summer is quick to ask. She’s always been the curious type.

“The guy she clocked—twice. He might have been able to keep his man card for a minute there, but not anymore. Not after the shit me and the boys will give him.” Bane’s grin might turn a head or two. Not mine, but Summer takes a second or two longer to pull herself away from looking at him.

“Twice?” she asks.

I lift a shoulder. “He snuck up on me the first time and then woke me the second.” She was nodding by the fourth word as if it all made sense.

Then again, she knows me, and more than just in the neighborhood way.

She gets it. I don’t do well with sneak attacks or waking up.

Both are a bit of an issue for me. Okay, fine, I’m downright pissy every morning for the simple fact that I have to wake up.

I do it, obviously, but it takes a good long while to get my ass out of bed.

“Okay, that explains the bruises and some other things, but still not the drugged part.” Domino lifts his beer, and I see his tongue flick out for a second as he wets his lower lip before he takes a sip. I mean, anyone would notice it. If they were looking.

“You’re really hung up on that part, aren’t you?”

The look he gives me makes me want to squirm in my seat, but I refuse. Even if he thinks I’m an idiot, I see what happened as minor.

“That ‘part’ is a pretty fucking big deal.”

“Yeah, maybe for a girl who doesn’t know what to do.

But I do.” He huffs at that, and my hackles rise.

“Look, I do underground fighting. Cheating doesn’t just happen, it’s borderline required.

I know that anything can happen, and I take steps.

Don’t think I’m just accepting things like an idiot.

The first time I was drugged was before a fight.

It was vented into my dressing room, and it was enough to put me out of the next round.

Now I prep before I get there so I’m ready.

Part of my contract now requires me to only arrive right before a fight to avoid the dressing room or to have it in an open area with others.

I don’t take things I can’t unseal myself.

This guy must have laced the water bottle before resealing it.

It’s the only thing I drank that he gave me, and I checked it before I took it. ”

“So, no matter what, the guy needs to die.” Bane’s voice drops an octave, and his glare deepens.

“For being sneaky as fuck to think all that through, yeah, I think he does.” I say it as a joke, but the more I look at the two who are now eyeing each other, the more I realize they aren’t laughing. “But it won’t be by me, and not by you either.”

“Why?” Domino asks.

I look to Summer for help, and she reluctantly answers. Neither of us likes to give out details about the job, but we will if it’ll save my career. “Guy’s connected. We can toss him around a bit, but anything more and Viv gets a permanent spot on the sidelines.”

“Doesn’t seem like a problem,” Domino says with a neck pop and a shoulder roll.

I huff out a snort. “Yeah, maybe not for you. But I like what I do. The money’s good, and having an outlet like that helps me in my business. Clears my mind and shit. So yeah, that’s not happening.”

Guy’s cute, but he has to be crazy to think I’d just give up on something I do.

Something I’m good at and that pays well.

Was tonight a terrible night? Hell yeah.

Was it the norm? No. And I’m not the type that needs to have a man come into my life and think they know better than me.

I’ve known this guy for what? An hour of awake time altogether?

Yeah, he has no say on what I do, or any say for that matter .

“Think it’s about time for you boys to leave.” I push up on the table and stand. If anyone notices me wobbling, they give me the grace of not mentioning it. But this group seems to be the type to notice more than most, so at least I can deem everyone the polite type.

“Right. Viv needs her rest, and I’m sure you want to get back to your party.” God bless Summer for jumping on the same bandwagon as me. I picked her for my best friend for a reason.

She bites her lip and looks at me when neither Domino nor Bane moves an inch.

I don’t want to get physical with them. I’ll do it if I have to, but I’m not at my best. I know Summer can hold her own, but we usually deal with people in our weight class, not someone packing double and solid muscle at that.

Domino tips his beer up, finishing it in the silence before tossing it in the trash. “Let’s go.”

Bane nods, taking another beat to stare hard at both me and Summer, flicking his last glance at my friend before walking out the door.

“Rest up. We’ll talk soon,” Domino says as a way of exiting as well, closing the door as he goes.

As soon as they’re gone, I go to the fridge, grab two beers, and head to my living room furniture, the couch.

It’s a small place. One bedroom and an office that holds a daybed I put in just for Summer’s kids to sleep on if they’re here late.

It happens a few times a month, so it’s worth the space it takes up.

One bath and then an open-concept living space that contains a table for two, counter space for someone cooking for a party of one, and a small love seat that’s comfy as shit.

This is the only piece of furniture I didn’t skimp on.

If I’m going to sit and rest, I want to be comfortable.

It’s the type you sink into, lean back fully, and just let go of any worries you have.

Like getting beat up, drugged, and having a guy carry you around. If that doesn’t deserve a cold beer and deep sink into the couch, I don’t know what does.

Summer slides in next to me, grabbing the beer from me and taking a swig. We sit in companionable silence before she finally asks what she’s dying to know.

“You win?”

“Pshh.” I pull the beer from my lips and raise an eyebrow. “Like you need to ask.”

“Well, you do look like crap.”

“You said that already.”

“And I’ll say it again. What happened? They have you go up against three on one again? Thought you told Mack you weren’t doing that again.”

“I did. It wasn’t that. It was Dozer.”

“Fuuuck.” Summer slumps back on her side with her mouth hanging open.

I nod in agreement. That about sums it up.

Dozer is a pro. Rumor has it that she started doing this as a way to get food for her family back in Russia when she was in her teens.

Once the money was better than just buying bread, she got a ticket out of the cold and came here.

She claims this place is a summer breeze compared to what she’s used to.

I think she’s fucking nuts. But she’s a beast, in the cold or not.

She bulldozes anything in her path. And the proof is on my face that I was in her path tonight.

Too bad for her, I don’t know when to quit.

It’s not about the money, not really. Sure, I take the gig because of the money.

But it’s not why I work so hard to keep in shape and put my all into any fight I’m in.

I don’t have it in me to give up. If I was that type, I wouldn’t be self-employed right now.

Running your own company is exhausting. There are a million and one reasons why you shouldn’t do it.

At least ten are pointed out to you daily, be it in the form of a horrible client, a bad review, or just shit not working out.

Quitting is the simple thing to do. Going back to office work and doing the same thing every day is easy.

It requires no thinking. But there’s also no challenge. And I thrive on challenges.

“I don’t like when you don’t call,” she whispers, and it takes longer to swallow this time.

The emotion that wells up inside me when she mentions, without mentioning, is always the hardest. I know she doesn’t like to talk about it, and I give her that courtesy about not bringing it up.

But I still reach out and grab her hand and squeeze hard.

“I know.” I can’t promise it won’t happen again.

She knows that. I usually leave my phone here when I go to avoid it getting taken, which happens more than you’d think.

I take enough cash with me that I can get out of any situation if I need a ride home.

But unless she’s with me, she doesn’t get to know about anything till I call and tell her I’m safe.

Something her oldest sister was never able to do.