The octane running through my veins was high enough to fuel a jet. I had to get away from Charlie before I took her, right there, against the wall.

I’d been ready to fuck the cherry right out of her.

And it would’ve been a disaster.

I couldn’t explain the attraction between us anymore than she could.

She hated that her body spoke to mine, and frankly, I wasn’t too happy about it either.

Things would’ve been a helluva lot easier if Charlie had never crossed my path.

If I’d never tasted her sweetness.

Never hungered for more.

I wasn’t that guy.

I wasn’t going to drop to my knee, profess my love and shit.

I mean, I was a fighter. Bloody knuckles and broken bones were my trade.

And she hated everything about that life.

I get it…her brother died in the ring…but that didn’t mean all fighters were bad.

Some kids used the ring to stay out of trouble.

Growing up in this town…it wasn’t easy.

Have a place to channel that raw anger…sometimes it meant the difference between making it and not getting yourself killed on the streets.

Gang-banging, drugs, the general oppression of total poverty…yeah, growing up in this city was like running a gauntlet from the day you were born.

The Underground wasn’t the problem, it was the management.

But one problem at a time.

With Charlie safely out of Davonte’s territory, I returned to start asking questions.

First, I headed to Pussy Willow, the strip joint where I knew Davonte ran some deals through.

Contrary to what I told Charlie, I knew of someone who might be interested in stabbing Davonte in the back but going to her was a gamble.

She could just as quickly and easily double cross me, too.

Chantel.

I wound my way through the crowded bar and settled in at a table in a far corner.

Chantel and I went way back.

We fucked a little, nothing serious.

But Chantel was a wild card.

One minute she was giving you the most amazing blow job of your life and the next, she was serving your nuts up to her matching dobermans.

Crazy women were an adventure in the sack but one that could end up killing you.

Kinda like climbing Mt. Everest — exhilarating but one wrong move and you’re fucked.

It didn’t take long before one of the girls sidled up to me, purring like a kitten, pressing fake tits into my face.

“See anything you like?”

“Tell Chantel, Damon is here to see her,” I said, cutting straight to the chase.

The woman dropped her seductress act and said, “Chantel isn’t here.”

“Bullshit.”

Nothing went down in Pussywillow without Chantel knowing about it.

She had eyes and ears everywhere, which meant the she-devil was lurking in the shadows somewhere.

“And in the meantime, bring me a shot of Jameson.” I tucked a twenty between her tits. “Keep the change, doll face.”

She glowered and pulled the money free, giving me an excellent view of her ass as she went to do as she was told.

It didn’t take long before Chantel emerged, looking as dangerous as ever, hard as fucking rock.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” Chantel drawled, taking my measure as if trying to decide whether to kiss me or kill me.

When she commandeered my shot, slamming it before taking her seat opposite me, I figured the odds were in my favor that she was at least curious. “I heard Manny cut you loose.”

Ah, going straight for the tender spots. “You heard right.”

She chuckled in amusement. “Can’t say I’m surprised. You lack that certain something in the ring. It was just a matter of time.”

I bit back my growl. Nothing like being emasculated by a nut-chewing ball-buster. Good fun.

“So what brings you here? Want to drown in pussy, baby?” she asked, her smile widening but her gaze, shrewd. “Forget your troubles between soft thighs, that kind of thing?”

As sexually pent-up as I was, the idea held merit — for a nano-second. I wanted release but I didn’t want anyone but Charlie.

Tough luck, for me.

If Charlie had her way, my balls would drop two frozen, blue sacs of flesh before she helped me out in that regard.

I shifted against the discomfort. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Oh? That kind of conversation? I’m intrigued. Give me a hint.”

“Payback.”

Chantel pursed her lips before quirking a small grin. “You do know how to tease a woman. All right, follow me.” She rose and led me to the back room where her office was. She sank into a leather desk chair and grabbed a cigar, lit it, and blew a smoke ring my way, saying, “You got my attention…talk.”

“How’s it feel to hand over forty percent of your profit to Davonte each month?” I asked, knowing it would piss her off. I needed her mad but not at me. As expected, her expression darkened. “Yeah, I figured it wasn’t a good feeling. Imagine what you could be doing with that money if you didn’t have to piss it away each month.”

“Your point?”

“My point is…if you want out from under Davonte…you gotta take a stand.”

Chantel smiled, cold and unamused. “Well, aren’t you the smart one. Why hadn’t I thought of that?” She took a long puff on her cigar before continuing. “Why are you really here, Damon? If you’re looking to get in my pants for old time’s sake, all you had to do was ask.”

“I’m not here to fuck,” I growled. “I’m here to find out if you have any balls aside from the ones you lop off the men in your life.”

“Get to the goddamn point, then.”

Time to put up or shut up. Either I was about to sign my own death warrant or I was going to gain an unexpected ally. It could honestly go either way.

“Davonte is running deals through Pussywillow. You’re his major hub but you’re still giving him forty percent of your business and you’re no longer his girl. What’s he got on you that you’re still playing his game?”

Chantel’s faintly amused laugh did nothing to dispel the sudden darkening in her eyes.

She stubbed out her cigar and poured herself another shot from a private stash of whisky.

“I never took you for one with brains, Damon, but it seems you’re more observant than I gave you credit. What I don’t know is why. Why do you care what my deal with Davonte is?”

“Because I think we could help each other get out from under that fucker’s thumb.”

“Interesting. And what’s he got on you, sugar?”

“That’s my business.”

“I think it’s my business, now.”

In other words, she ain’t talking until I do.

“Manny cut me loose, I got shit-faced drunk and somehow got it into my fool head it might be a good idea to break Davonte’s nose. He didn’t agree. Now I’m supposed to bring him this girl he wants and in return, all’s forgiven and I’m on the salary as one of his men.”

“You broke his fucking nose?”

“Yeah.”

Chantel whistled in appreciation, envy curving her lips. “I’d have given my right tit to see that happen. I hope it hurt.”

“I can’t say. I don’t fucking remember anything about that night.”

“Damn. You screwed yourself hard and without lube.” She finished her shot, wiped her mouth and said through a grin. “You know he’s going to kill you. He’s lying through his teeth to get what he wants. As soon as you deliver the girl…he’s gonna deliver a bullet.”

“Yeah, I already figured that out.” I skewed my gaze at her. “So what’s he got on you?”

Chantel shook her head. “Nah, you tell me why I would throw my chances in with you when it looks like you’re on the losing side.”

“Change is coming, Chantel. Either you’re on the right side or the wrong side. I’m giving you the opportunity to be on the side of the winner.”

“And what makes you think you’re going to win?”

That was a good question. She was calling my bluff. Fuck it, I was living on borrowed time anyway. “Because I got someone who wants to take down Davonte even more than me and they’re gonna do whatever it takes to see that happen.”

Chantel assessed me openly. “Such as?”

“Terrance Johnson.”

Her gaze narrowed in disbelief. “No fucking way.”

My lie was a whopper. Go big or go home, right?

“Davonte’s crossed the line. He’s trying to horn in on Johnson’s territory and he doesn’t much like that. He’s ready to swat at the fly.”

“And how exactly is he going to do that?”

I leaned forward, my gaze hard. “By taking what Davonte treasures most…his money. I know you’re the key to his operation. All you gotta do is cooperate with Terrance and we’ll all walk away with money in our pocket and Davonte off our ass.”

Chantel held my stare, the tension between us growing by the second. Would she take the bait? Was Chantel just hungry enough for Davonte’s blood to throw her chances in with an unknown?

Forty percent was a lot to cough up each month.

There was bad blood between Chantel and Davonte…but was it enough to make her stick a knife in Davonte’s back?

Everything hinged on Chantel playing the game.

The moment seemed to stretch between us, lengthening by the second, drawing out the dread that I’d gambled and lost.

Chantel broke the silence with a smile. “You’re a crazy fucker. I always liked that about you, Damon. Fine, count me in. But I want a meeting with Terrance. You set it up. Then, we’ll see just how serious this shit is.”

Great. A meeting with Terrance Johnson…that ought to be fucking impossible.

But I nodded as if that would be a walk in the park. “Give me a few days to make it happen.”

“Don’t take too long, baby,” she warned with a sassy chuckle. “This offer has an expiration date and one more thing…if it turns out that you’re bullshitting me and this whole deal goes sour…I’ll help Davonte shove your nuts down your throat. Got it?”

I rose. “Yeah, I got it. You just keep your mouth shut until I call you. If Davonte asks…you haven’t seen me.”

“You got it, sugar dick.”

I left Chantel in her office and high-tailed it out of the club.

I’d gained an ally but I’d just set myself up for an even bigger fail.

Now I had to convince Terrance Johnson that it was time to stake his claim on his biggest rival’s territory…without any provocation.

Basically, I’d just started a war between the two biggest kingpins in Detroit.

And neither had a clue.