Page 16 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)

Chapter

Fifteen

Gavin

Bang. Bang. Bang. “Gavin, open up!”

Cursing as I rub the sleep from my eyes, I roll out of bed and throw on a pair of sweatpants.

I’m in a fucking foul mood as I stalk to the door. Opening it so hard it nearly flies off the hinges, I usher John inside. “What the hell? It’s five in the morning. You know I was bartending last night.”

“This is important. You alone?”

“Yes.” Mia wanted to take me home after our hookup, but I came up with an excuse. I hate that Taylor was collateral damage, but dammit, if she couldn’t see the writing on the wall about Mia, she needs her damn vision checked. “Come on, I need caffeine.”

We walk to the kitchen, and I flip on the light, grabbing an energy drink from the fridge. Popping the top, I take a sip as my brother paces. “When’s the last time you heard from Russell?” he asks.

“It’s been a few days. Why?”

“Because he’s ghosted both me and Inferno.”

“Did you check the security footage at the gym?” Hope he didn’t, considering I nearly choked Russell out the last time we trained together.

John sighs, shaking his head. “It malfunctioned. Nothing was being recorded for weeks.”

He looks like he wants to say more, and I sigh. “Go ahead.”

“Did you kill him?”

I suppress a growl. “No.”

“Gavin, just level with me.”

“I didn’t fucking kill him,” I say with annoyance.

“Then what happened to Russell?” John presses.

“I don’t know. Have you tried calling him?”

“Course I’ve fucking called him,” he snaps.

I hold up my hands. “Let me try.” I hustle to my room, returning with my phone. Pulling up Russell’s contact, I hit call, but it goes directly to his voicemail. I end the call and ask, “What do we do?”

John’s hands fall on top of his head. For the first time in my life, my cock-sure brother doesn’t look so sure. “I don’t know. Between the setbacks at the construction site, to now this, I’ve got too much on my plate.”

“I can handle the gym for the time being,” I assure him. “Press pause on casino night until we can find a new manager. I’ll help Inferno schedule bartenders for the pop-up clubs and fight nights.”

“And your training?” John presses.

“I’ll spar with Dominic.” The plus side is I have no qualms laying his dumb ass out. “We’re not going to fade in the final round, alright?”

“I need your head in the game—”

“My head’s in the game!” I pound the energy drink, crushing the empty can into a tiny aluminum ball and tossing it in the trash.

“Those bottles of liquor and dime bag say otherwise.” He nods to the counter.

Annoyed, I swipe the booze and bag of pot into the trash. “Happy?”

“Prove to me you can handle the responsibility, and yes, I’ll be happy. What’s happening with the Mia/Sal angle?”

“Meeting Sal this evening. According to Mia, he isn’t very bright. I’m wondering if a straight-up bribe isn’t the best avenue.”

“Feel him out and use your judgment.” His phone buzzes, and he growls when he reads the message. “I’ve gotta go. Keep me posted.”

He stalks to the door, pausing when I call, “You sure there’s not something else bothering you?”

“Isn’t this enough?” John mutters, walking out.

Only when he’s gone do I realize he never answered my question.

Flipping on the light in Russell’s office, I search his desk, looking for any clue of his whereabouts. Really hoping my little outburst at the poker party isn’t the reason he ghosted us. But come on! If the man can’t handle one little threat of a broken nose, he was in the wrong line of work.

A glance at the calendar, and I see Taylor’s friend Kat is scheduled for the first personal training slot this morning, but what grabs my attention is the ten o’clock.

Uh-oh. Best have my groin cup in place before that session.

I unlock the front door and flip on the lights as members begin to trickle in. Heading down the hall, I run into Kat. Making a show of looking around, I say, “Your boyfriend gonna attack me again if I speak to you?”

“Sorry about that,” she says sheepishly. “He’s not my boyfriend, not that it makes it any better.”

“You know what would make it better?” I answer on autopilot before I catch myself.

My God, I really am getting sick of my bullshit.

She rolls her eyes and keeps walking. “Bye, Gavin.”

I hustle after her. “Wait up. You’re looking at Ace’s new trainer. Come spar with me. Your boyfriend’s not the only one who can throw a jab.”

Kat snorts. “I told you he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Who is he, then?” Because my fist and his face need an introduction.

“We gonna gab, or are we gonna jab?” she taunts.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I run Kat through her paces, and she does a decent job for someone with no combat sports background. Glancing at the clock, I tell her, “Good job today.”

“Thank fuck,” she says, wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm.

“Take tomorrow off; you’re gonna be sore as hell.” I point at her.

“You got it. Hey, did you ever get word to Inferno about me dealing at the party? I’d love to score some extra cash,” she says.

I shake my head, helping her remove the gloves. “I didn’t get a chance; it was a pretty busy night.” Considering the casino parties are on pause, it’s a moot point. Just as well, because Taylor hates my guts; hates my guts more than she already did, which is saying something.

“How is it you know him?” she asks.

Shrugging, I help unwrap her hands before tossing the wrap into a laundry basket. “I’m a bartender. You meet all kinds.”

“Does he ever hang around here?” she wonders.

“Not that I’m aware of,” I reply vaguely.

“Gavin,” someone calls, and I glance over her shoulder. “Gotta go. I’ll see you next time.” I approach the man exiting the locker room. “Just letting you know the toilet’s backed up,” he tells me.

Stepping inside, I turn right back around. “Thanks. I’ll call a plumber.” I assured John I could handle the gym, but I draw the line at plunging shit.

Taylor

Sipping my tea, I debate whether to go to the gym or wallow in my pajamas. I scroll through my messages. Kat’s going to the gym early this morning, but that’s not why I nearly spit out my chai latte.

WTF? I can’t believe you left me at the club without a ride!!!!!

Rage propels my thumbs over my keyboard.

WTF back at you! I can’t believe you cheated on me and are acting like I’m the problem here!!!!!

Don’t be dramatic. Gavin and I asked you to join. You’re the one who got all mad and left.

Dramatic?

Text bubbles appear, and I block Mia’s number, deleting the message thread. “Popped those bubbles with a block. How’s that for dramatic, bitch?”

Now that righteous indignation is coursing through my veins, I get ready for the gym and make the drive across town. I’m in such a mood, I don’t even turn on my audiobook; just like, rawdoggs the drive.

My thoughts return to Mia, and by extension Gavin, and a big ole scowl is on my face when I park.

Stomping to the entrance, I scan my card and stash my bag in my locker. Giving the empty bench a kick, all I accomplish is hurting my toe.

I exit the locker room and round the corner, crashing into a brick wall of a man. A surprised yelp escapes my lips as Gavin grabs my shoulders, righting me before I fall on my ass; I smack his hands away.

“Easy, man-eater.” He holds up his hands slowly like he’s dealing with a cornered wild animal. “Didn’t want you falling at my sweaty feet again.”

“I’m surprised to see you this early. Figured you’d still be out destroying relationships,” I say with venom.

He snorts in disbelief. “Taylor, if you think I’m responsible for destroying your ‘relationship,’ you’re blinder than I thought.” He uses air quotes around relationship.

“Excuse me?” I cross my arms, staring him down.

“Mia was looking for a good time, not a long time—”

“And you were just the man to show her a good time,” I grit between my teeth.

“If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been another guy. She was always going back to the D,” he says matter-of-factly.

Deep down, I know he’s right, but that does nothing to quell my rage. “Ah, so you did me a favor. My God, your fuckboy logic is something else,” I say with derision.

“Did she even apologize?” he challenges.

My nostrils flare.

Gavin clicks his tongue. “What I thought.”

“Did you even apologize?” I counter.

“Why should I? You said it yourself: I did you a favor. You’re welcome, by the way.” He flashes his pearly whites.

“Move.” I shove past Gavin, only for him to easily catch up with me.

“I’m the new trainer. Are you ready?”

It’s my turn to snort in disbelief. “You are fucking high if you think I’m training with you.”

He lifts a muscular shoulder. “It’s me or nothing.”

Chin squared, I inform him, “Nothing, all the way.”

“That leaves me with nothing to do for an hour. Guess I’ll sit and watch. Not that it’s a bad view.” His eyes take another entitled stroll up and down my body, and I hate that my nipples are pebbled for some damn reason.

“Alright, Gavin. You can train me,” I tell him, and he looks taken aback at my acquiescence. “But only if I get to punch you.”

“Deal.”

“Really?” I eye him suspiciously.

“Sure. If you can land a blow.” He smiles smugly.

Oh, I’m landing a blow, alright.

We reach the main floor, and he ushers me to the wall of equipment. Grabbing a jump rope, he hands it to me. “Two-minute warmup.”

I try not to think about him and every other person in this gym watching me, while simultaneously regretting my wardrobe decision. Why didn’t I wear my maximum support bra? Oh yeah, because I was too lazy to hand-wash it, and it’s still in the dirty clothes bin.

I bring the rope over my head, keeping my gaze straight ahead as my breasts jiggle uncomfortably with each jump.