HADRIAN’S PERSONAL GYM wasn’t much to look at. A few mats, some free weights, a couple of yoga balls and some other cheap equipment made up the majority of his gear. The only concession to the Spartan facility was the heavy bag chained to the reinforced ceiling beam. He had access to all the official UFF facilities, of course, but when it came to his own workout, he preferred to be alone and to use what was at hand. It didn’t feel right to him, somehow, to have a fully-equipped home gym when he so rarely used it.
Well, it was paying off now. In the past couple of weeks since he’d kicked Quinn out, he’d worked a deep groove into the heavy bag, and the plaster on the ceiling was starting to crack. He knew he should probably stop and get it fixed before the whole house came crashing down on his head. At the same time, he wasn’t sure he’d care if it did.
He sneezed as the plaster dust tickled his nose, then spit to get rid of the chalky texture on his lips.
“If you had someone spotting you and holding that bag, you wouldn’t have to worry so much about the ceiling.” Mrs. Hutzenbiler’s voice echoed through the room as she approached on silent sneakers. Hadrian paused as she rolled up her sleeves and grasped the bottom of the sand-filled sack, then braced her weight against it. “Go ahead.”
Hadrian didn’t argue with her. She might be closing in on sixty-three, but he had no doubt his P.A. could kick his butt if she wanted to. She could scare osteoporosis away with one mean look.
His fists sank into the leather with a satisfying thud. Mrs. H. didn’t even flinch. “I got a call from Joel Khalib,” she said in an even tone. “He wanted to update us on a situation regarding Bella Fiore.”
His lungs deflated and he stopped. “Dear God. Please don’t tell me—”
“Bella’s fine. She’s still in for the fight, and so is Ayumi.”
Thank God. “So, what’s the deal?”
“Don’t let your heart rate go down,” she ordered. Obediently, he resumed his striking rhythm. “Bella left Payette’s.”
“What?” His punch slipped and his knuckles cracked loudly. He hissed and shook out his hand.
“She had some kind of falling-out with Kyle Peters and left the gym. A lover’s spat, apparently. There were quite a few witnesses, but I’m only getting this story fourth or fifth hand.”
“Freaking Kyle Peters. I swear that guy trips and ends up dick deep in—” He caught Mrs. H.’s unimpressed look and cut himself off. “This better not end up costing me another settlement.”
“Maybe Mr. Peters isn’t the man you want representing your gym,” she said coolly.
Hadrian chewed the inside of his cheek. Maybe Mrs. H. was right.
He gave the bag another couple of frustrated hits, then stopped. He’d hurt his hand. “So Bella’s not at Payette’s. Where is she?” He mopped his face with a towel and let out a deep breath.
“Joel’s not saying. He said she doesn’t want anyone disturbing her while she trains.”
“We have more media events lined up. She’d better come to those.”
“Give her some time, Hadrian. I’m sure she’ll be professional about it, you’ll see.”
“She never should’ve gotten involved with Peters in the first place.” He took a swig of tepid water from his bottle to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. “I even warned him off, but I knew the moment I saw them together at the gala, something was going to happen. I’d like to skin him alive.”
“I don’t think we should be assigning blame when we don’t know the whole story.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s uncharacteristic of you, Mrs. H. I was under the impression you didn’t like Peters.”
“I don’t feel one way or another about him. I just don’t like it when people jump to conclusions.”
“So you don’t believe what Karla Brutsch said about what he did to her?”
“I believe something happened. But the facts never came out, and instead of investigating further and getting the authorities involved like you should have, you gave Kyle a pass and swept the girl under a rug.”
“With fifty thousand dollars and a new freaking life.” Despite that bitter memory, her words made him uncomfortable. “And when did this issue become about me? I didn’t give Peters a pass. That guy has a reputation, granted, but you’re asking me to believe he punched a girl—an employee—in the face. There were witnesses who saw her do it to herself. And I know the guy. Kyle wouldn’t do that.”
“So you believe Kyle over Karla.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Hadrian blew out a breath. He hated the doubts clouding his judgment. “Look, this isn’t about that woman or what’s happened. This is about Bella and Kyle. She shouldn’t have hooked up with him. The guy’s a notorious player. He was never going to commit to anything long-term, and she knew she had a career to look after, so why the hell even bother?”
Mrs. Hutzenbiler studied him silently for a moment. “This isn’t about Kyle and Bella at all, is it?”
He tried to skirt around her, but she raised a hand. “Cool down. You’re not allowed to leave until your heart rate is back to normal. And judging by the way you’re fuming, that’ll be a while.”
He grumbled and sat on the ground, stretching his arms, calves and thighs. The muscles around his neck seized. He felt ready to snap.
Mrs. H. saw his pain, knelt and kneaded his shoulders. “You haven’t talked to Quinn in a while.”
“I kicked that traitor out of here.”
“Why’s that?” She dug her knuckles in deep, making him inhale sharply.
“She accused me of being a chauvinistic pig. I’ve donated thousands of dollars to women’s shelters and community programs. There are all kinds of equal opportunity hiring programs at the UFF. I’m hosting a goddamned women’s fight, which she’s been whining about since I met her. She’s never shut up about it, you know. Every freaking month, it was ‘So when are you going to open the UFF to women?’ I finally do and she’s on me like I’ve been cheating on her.”
“You never did give her that interview.”
“Because I was busy!”
His P.A. stopped her massage and fixed him with a look. “I asked you several times when you wanted to talk to her. I gave you times in your schedule for when it was doable.”
“Are you actually taking Quinn’s side?”
“That’s not the issue, though she’s right about a few things. I helped her with the research, after all.”
Hadrian felt a stab of betrayal. Would any woman ever take his side? This was almost as bad as when his mom—
No. He wasn’t going there. Mom had left him to his own devices, told him she didn’t have time to deal with anything except keeping up with the bills because his father sure as hell wasn’t helping....
No, this had nothing to do with his mother, or with anyone else. “I don’t want you giving her any more information,” he declared. “Quinn’s not welcome anywhere on my property. If I had any say in it—”
“You’d what? Get a woman fired for doing her job? All because you can’t take a little criticism?” She gave a tired sigh and shook her head sharply so her iron-gray curls bounced. “I thought you’d outgrown your pettiness, Hadrian, but then, you always were emotionally immature. Some days I just want to slap some sense into your stupid face.”
He sat back, stunned and a little afraid she might do just that.
“You’re not angry because of the article or about the issues she brought up. This isn’t about how you treat women. This is about how you treat Quinn.”
He snorted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“When was the last time you had a long-term relationship with a woman?”
“I don’t have time for—”
“I’ll tell you. You spent five months three years ago with a cage girl—Valerie Francis. That ended when she turned twenty-four and she got that modeling gig.”
“Never happier to see the back of her. And I’d seen a lot of it.”
Mrs. H.’s steep frown shut him up. “Before Valerie, there was that actress. Odious little thing with that awful sex tape. And before her, it was that coed student who wanted to be a cage girl.”
He smirked. “The one with the mole. I remember.”
His P.A. pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t you see? None of these girls were your equal. None of them challenged you the way Quinn does. She made you happy. She made you want to be with her, and that scared you, didn’t it?”
“Leave me alone.” He made to get up, but she clamped her steellike grip around his ankle and punched him in the back of the knee hard enough that he fell back on his ass.
“Are you looking to get fired?” he exclaimed, rubbing his tailbone.
“You can try. But I think you’ll find I’m a lot harder to get rid of than any reporter.” Her expression softened. “I know there wasn’t a lot of room for love while you were growing up—your mother did what she had to, God rest her soul, even if you don’t feel the same way. But that’s no excuse for the way you’ve treated Quinn. You have feelings for that woman. The moment you realized she had the power to hurt you, you put as much distance between you as you could.”
“I asked her to move in with me half a dozen times,” he countered bitterly. “I offered her everything, and she still turned me down.”
“You offered to keep her like a pet.” Hadrian opened his mouth to retort but found himself unable to refute the claim. She went on, “You wanted to buy her love and loyalty. You wanted to keep her here where she couldn’t fight you.”
“I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”
“Because she’s smarter than that, you idiot.” Mrs. H. sat back, exasperated. “When she published that feature and you saw how she could hurt you, you decided it would be safer to dump her. Am I right?”
He glowered and muttered a reply that had her glaring right back.
“I’ll expect an apology for that remark after you’ve sulked for a while and figured out what it is you really want from Quinn.” She climbed to her feet. “Destroying her career isn’t going to get you anything.” She paused before exiting. “You might want to start by thinking about what she has done for you and maybe appreciate what she’s had to put up with.”
* * *
KYLE STARED AT his calendar, the days of the week blurring into a continuous stretch terminating with the big, bold words BELLA’S UFF FIGHT!!!!
He tried to see the other significant scheduled dates, but his gaze kept drifting back to Saturday’s event. He remembered the pride mixed with excitement and trepidation that he’d felt as he’d marked it on the calendar. Remembered how clearly the immediate future had looked in terms of what he and Bella had needed to accomplish.
Right now, nothing seemed clear. Even with tonight’s plans.
Carefully, he added his date with Bree to the calendar. The writing was small and faint. He scratched harder, trying to make the ink flow, but the pen petered out entirely. He tossed it aside in defeat.
“Boss.” Liz stood in the doorway. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“Bella?” His cheeks heated. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out loud or sound quite so desperate. The receptionist kept her expression fixed. He’d quizzed her about Bella’s whereabouts since she’d stormed out of Payette’s, but Liz knew nothing. He’d gone by Bella’s apartment a few times, but she hadn’t been home, and the store owner downstairs had said he hadn’t seen her lately.
Was it possible she’d gone home to Brazil?
“I think she’s one of the girls from the Touchstone youth center. She’s waiting at the front desk.”
He hurried out. Shawnese leaned against the counter, chatting amiably with Tito. She smiled wide at his approach. “Hey, Kyle. I was actually looking for Bella.”
The look Tito gave him wasn’t quite a stink eye, but it definitely bordered on hostile. A lot of guys had been avoiding him since Bella’s departure.
“She...she’s off training with a specialist,” he answered. “She’s on lockdown for the fight. No one can reach her.”
“Oh.” Shawnese’s smiled faded, and she studied him closely, eyes wide and watchful. It was almost as if she were reading his thoughts, his fears, the lines on his face forming a map of guilt. She rubbed her neck. “Well, I thought I’d swing by, let you guys know where I’m working now.”
“You got a job? That’s great. Congrats.”
“Yeah. I’m doing some admin work at a real estate office downtown. Pay’s pretty good. I’ll get to rent my own place soon. Once I’ve got first month’s rent, I’m gonna come back here and take more lessons with Bella.”
Kyle’s jaw clenched so tight he saw spots. “That’s...that’s great.” Would she still join if Bella wasn’t here? He was certain he’d driven her off for good. “Has anyone been giving you grief? Andre been around?” he asked instead.
“I haven’t seen him. Jerome told me he’s going to another center on the east side of town now.” She lifted a shoulder. “Still, I’d feel safer if I knew I could take care of myself. You know, the way you and Bella can.”
Every mention of Bella twisted the knife.
Her gaze flicked over him critically. “You’re not wearing my necklace.”
“Huh?” He suddenly remembered her Christmas gift. “Oh. It’s hanging up in my office.” On the same nail that Bella’s scroll hung from, in fact. He amended quickly, “It’s not that I don’t like it—”
“Hey, don’t worry. No jewelry, I remember the rules.” She waved him off. “Anyhow, when you see Bella next, tell her hi for me.”
“I will.” He had no idea if he’d ever see Bella again, though. And if he did, he had a feeling she wouldn’t want to see him.
* * *
“WATCH MY LEG, Bella,” Marco said, lifting his knee. “You see that opening? You reach around fast and grab it, and—”
Bella did as he instructed, giving his ankle a twist and a pull. Put off balance, he tipped to the side and fell over. She scrambled on top of him for the cross mount and then hopped off.
“Very good,” her father said. “Remember, watch out for Kamino’s legs. She’d give up her guard if she thought she could surprise you.”
“Anticipate the unknown?” Bella chuckled as she shook out her limbs.
“Just watch out for surprises.”
“Advice like that, and she’ll start wondering why we even came,” Marco said as he rolled to his feet. “C’mon, Papai, we need to step up her game, not baby her with the basics. Fulvio would never let us get away with this kind of beginners stuff for any of his advanced students.” He made a sour expression. “Not that he’d be crazy about us being here in the first place.”
“Don’t worry about what your grandfather thinks.” Carlos Fiore ground his jaw. “I’ve listened to him for too long. I should’ve been here for Bella all this time, shown everyone the family’s behind her. She’s been through enough on her own.” He clapped his daughter’s shoulder. “The basics will get you as far as any advanced technique, Bella. Kamino will be expecting something showy.”
“And so will Hadrian Blackwell, so we’d better work on your stand-up. If you take it to the ground too early, you’ll risk boring everyone.”
“This isn’t a show, Marco.”
“Of course it is, Papai. This is the UFF. You think people pay hundreds of dollars to watch two women grappling on the mat for five rounds?” He shook his head. “We need to cleanse your brain of everything Kyle taught you. I never should’ve trusted him.” He said that last part almost to himself. “We’ll focus on your BJJ and stand-up. Those are your strong points anyhow.”
She was about to argue that what Kyle had taught her—apart from the fact that she should never have trusted her heart not to get involved—had been valuable, but then Bella caught sight of a familiar figure watching her from across the room. She bristled as the redhead approached.
“Bella.” Quinn Bourdain gave a tentative smile. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
She snatched her towel off the bench and mopped her brow. She was still cross about the article the reporter had written. Quinn was only doing her job, but in Bella’s opinion, it’d been a shitty job. “How’d you find me?”
“I waited outside your apartment almost half a day and found out from the guy in the shop below you hadn’t been home. Said he hadn’t seen your bike, either.”
“I’ve been staying with my father and brother. We have early mornings and late nights, so there’s no point riding all the way home.” She didn’t explain that she hadn’t wanted to risk a confrontation with Kyle at her apartment.
“I had eyes and ears at practically every gym in New Orleans. It was only by chance that a friend of a friend recognized you coming out of here a couple of days ago. I thought you’d head to the Star Gym for sure. They have all the equipment and trainers—”
“I don’t need anything fancy to train. Not with my dad and Marco here.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Quinn glanced over to where the two men were giving her flat, suspicious looks. “I didn’t even know this studio existed.”
“Fiore trade secret.” The family had contacts all over the world who let them use their facilities when they were traveling. In this case, her father and Marco had managed to secure the whole upper studio for themselves in exchange for a week’s worth of private tutelage.
“Does this mean you’re still in the fight?”
“Someone saying otherwise?” Bella countered.
“Your sudden departure from Payette’s has people wondering if you’re committed to the card.” Her gazed sharpened. “Are you?”
“Hey, Bella.” Marco strolled up next to her, dark green eyes fixed on Quinn. “Is there a problem here?”
“Quinn Bourdain, Las Vegas Sun News.” The redhead stuck out her hand. “Marco Fiore, right? I’ve been following your family a long time.”
Marco shook her hand automatically. “I’ve read your work,” he said, wiping his palm against his shorts. “If you have business with Bella, Ms. Bourdain, it’ll have to wait until after the fight. We’re on a tight schedule.”
“I was hoping to do an interview—”
“You’ll have to talk to her agent, then. Bella’s on lockdown.”
Bella started to turn away. Then Quinn said, “I wanted to talk to you about Kyle Peters.”
She whirled around and shot the reporter a warning look. She hadn’t told Marco or her father the details of her departure from Payette’s, though they obviously had their theories. All she’d said over the phone was that she needed their help and they were on a plane the next day, no questions asked.
“Bella,” Marco called.
“Give us a minute.” She directed Quinn to the stairwell, away from her family. The door shut behind them. “Whatever it is you think you have on me or Kyle, I’m telling you right now, it’s wrong. And I want you to know that piece you wrote about me and women in MMA was hurtful and just plain bad. What was the point of quoting Ryan? Why did you even mention that stuff about Shawnese? You were there, Quinn. She was in trouble, and you used it. You used her and me both.” Her pent-up anger came to a boil. “I don’t appreciate cheap innuendo, either. All that stuff you put in about how I was getting special treatment from Hadrian was unnecessary.” The hurt intensified as she remembered how the article reduced Bella’s role to token female fighter. “I thought I could trust you. I thought you were a professional.”
Quinn crossed her arms. “Look, I’m sorry I offended you, but I was reporting a fact. Hadrian was giving you special treatment, and I think you and I both know why.” Bella didn’t respond, and Quinn continued, “Maybe I let my feelings fuel my writing too much, but the reality is that that story probably would’ve been buried in the back pages if I hadn’t written it the way I did. Being edgy and interesting—that’s how magazines and papers sell these days. My profile at the paper has been hit and miss, and with all the cuts and layoffs...”
Quinn glanced down and sighed. “Shit, I’m screwing this up.” She pinched the flesh between her eyes. “Look I did have a real point to make with that feature, but I realize that some of the things I left in were way off the mark. I’m sorry, Bella.”
Weirdly, Bella understood where the redhead was coming from—having to do whatever it took to make her career. Even if it meant not always making the best judgment calls. “Why are you here, Quinn?” she asked.
“I want to do another article on you—right some of the wrongs from my first piece. If women’s MMA is going to stand a chance, we need champions. I want to properly showcase the women of MMA and highlight all the challenges you face as both fighters and women. I want to make things right.”
“How can I trust you? How do I know you’re not here for another sensational story?”
Quinn’s jaw set and she raised her eyes. “I can’t promise it’ll be a fluff piece. But it will be truthful. I ask hard questions—that’s how I built my reputation. And not asking them is what got me into the mess in the first place.”
Bella regarded her a moment longer, making sure the reporter sweated a little. “Are you going to ask me about my relationship with Kyle?”
“I’ll ask. But I can only report what you tell me.”
“And if I decline to comment?”
“Then I’ll report that. But I can’t promise I won’t repeat what others have been saying.”
Heat flooded her face. “What are people saying?”
“That you had a big fight with Kyle about another woman. You’ve probably heard he has a reputation for this kind of thing. He had an instructor at Payette’s—”
“I’ve heard.” She didn’t want to gossip about Kyle with the reporter. “It really isn’t anyone’s business what happened between us.”
“All right.” Quinn folded her hands. “So will you do the interview?”
Bella sighed. It was probably more prudent if she talked to Joel first. Or Marco or her father. Or even Kyle. But she’d never before needed anyone else’s opinion to know what the right thing to do was. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”