I held my breath, watching as Terrance and Damon went back and forth, each measuring each other up, searching for weakness.

I felt Terrance’s interest in me as surely as I’d felt Davonte’s.

But I also sensed Damon’s hackles going up like razor wire. It was supposed to be an act but Damon was playing the part to perfection.

Almost too convincingly.

I suppressed the shudder of awareness that rippled through my body.

Damon confused me. Left me unsettled. Tilted.

But that wall of man was the only thing standing between me and an uncertain future.

And I knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

I didn’t know why I knew it.

I just did.

I could feel it in my bones.

Damon was hardwired differently than most men I knew.

I mean, at first I thought he was pretty basic, a dumb jock who’d been punched too many times in the head, but now I realized Damon hid a lot beneath that rough exterior.

How did I know?

Hell, I couldn’t answer that.

But it was watching him in action, going toe-to-toe with a man equally as bad Davonte, putting it all on the line to save our asses that gave me a brief glimpse of clarity.

I didn’t know anything about him and I was stymied by my need to know more.

I didn’t know if he had brothers or sisters, a family somewhere.

A discomforting thought occurred to me, what if he was married? Did he have kids tucked away?

And what did I care if he was married?

I mean, the question raised more questions but that’s not why I was bothered.

I didn’t like the thought of Damon being attached to someone else.

Without realizing it, my face screwed into a frown and Terrance caught it.

“You got something to add, honey?” he asked.

Damon caught my gaze and I immediately shook my head, appearing to be the obedient pigeon.

Terrance chuckled, buying my act. “You’ve trained the bitch well,” he said with approval, nearly causing me to bite my tongue in half, before returning to business. “All right, lucky for you, your intel is in line with what I’ve been hearing as well through my own channels.”

To his credit, Damon remained chill and went with it, as if Terrance’s admission wasn’t a total surprise, seeing as we were spinning total bullshit on our end. “And? What are you going to do about it?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“How useful your source is.”

Everything hinged on Chantel unwittingly playing her part. Hopefully, Chantel’s thirst to be free of Davonte was stronger than her sense of fair play.

Not that Davonte was playing fair in any sense of the word if he was sucking up nearly half her profits each month.

But letting sleeping dogs lie and all that, was a powerful antidote to outrage.

Damon scribbled a number on a partially soiled napkin and slid it over to Terrance. “Call this number. Arrange a meeting. Her name is Chantel and she owns Pussywillow. She’s real interested in talking to you.”

Terrance accepted the napkin with a smirk, his shark gaze ever sharp, ever menacing. “We’ll see.” Then, he said, “You still haven’t said what you want out of this deal.”

“I want The Underground,” Damon answered and I could only stare in frozen silence. That wasn’t part of the deal. I wanted to burn The Underground down. Damon wanted to run it, apparently.

“With Davonte gone, I’ll clean house. You and me have no beef. I don’t want The Underground used to run drugs and shit. You can have all of Davonte’s territory, just leave me The Underground.”

My offer intrigued Terrance. “A businessman, huh? You got the chops to run a successful gym?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Terrance chuckled, intrigued by my offer. “A lot to think about.”

I struggled with my need to rip into Damon for throwing his curveball. I shouldn’t care what he did if we made it out of this deal alive but I did care.

And I hated the idea of him running The Underground.

As far as I was concerned, the whole motherfucking operation could burn to the ground and I’d dance as it disintegrated.

Damon rose and I followed his lead. “Let me know what you decide. Time is ticking.”

He didn’t wait to be dismissed, simply walked away knowing I’d remain close on his heels.

I don’t think I was actually breathing the entire time because the minute we cleared the building and were safe in his truck, I expelled a loud breath, sucking in oxygen wildly.

“What the fuck just happened?” I exploded, once we were clear. “You never said anything about wanting to run the gym. This is bullshit. I told you from the start I wanted to ruin everything associated with cage fighting. My brother fucking died on that gym floor. How can you possibly— I can’t believe that just happened. You motherfucker!”

“Cool it,” he growled at my hysterics. “I never said I was going to destroy The Underground. I was in on your plan to take down Davonte. Get it straight.”

I blinked back tears. He was right, he hadn’t said he was on board with that part but I, sort of, assumed he’d come around to my way of thinking. God, did I feel stupid.

“I guess you’re not the man I thought you were.”

“Princess, I’m the same man I ever was. Now stop acting like a spoiled brat and listen up. We got one shot to make this work and we got loose ends to tie up before it blows up in our face.”

I wanted to scream some more at Damon.

I was hurt for feeling betrayed and embarrassed for feeling anything at all for the man.

I mean, what was I thinking? So he had a talented tongue…it wasn’t as if you could build a relationship on a man’s ability to eat pussy!

But he was right.

We had one shot to make this happen so that meant I had to suck it up and move past his sudden left turn.

I closed my eyes briefly to regroup, bottling up my hurt and disappointment for another time. Reopening my eyes, I said, “If Chantel doesn’t back up our story…”

“We’re fucked,” he finished for me.

“Yeah,” I murmured, shaking my head. “Do you think she’s going to take the bait? I mean, how badly does she want out from beneath Davonte’s thumb?”

“Don’t know but it was the only card we had, so we played it.”

“That’s reassuring,” I grumbled. “That’s like throwing down a sixteen in Blackjack and staying, hoping to God Lady Luck wasn’t about to fuck you in the ass because you could feel in your bones that the next card coming your way was probably a queen.”

“Pretty much.”

My nerves were pulled tight. His staccato answers weren’t helping.

“Are you made of fucking rock? Don’t you ever show any emotion? I’m freaking out right now and you’re acting like we just made a grocery run. No big deal.”

That touched a nerve.

“What do you want me to say, Charlie? Yeah, we’re standing in gasoline and someone just tossed us a match? Because yeah, that’s the long and short of it, baby. The chances of either of us coming out the other side alive, is slim at best, but I ain’t going down without a helluva fight.”

Of course he would go down swinging. Damon didn’t know any other way.

And even though I was hella pissed at him for pulling that stunt back there, I was secretly grateful that he was one tough motherfucker.

“Don’t call me, baby,” I shot back, even though I shivered at the sound of that word on his lips. There was something so goddamn sensual about everything he said and did, even when he was being a royal asshole. “I never asked for any of this.”

“Neither did I, sweetheart.”

His caustic response did little to quell the tiny bubbles percolating in my blood. My whole body felt alive, electrified.

Tiny pulses danced down my exposed skin, drawing awareness to every square inch of my body.

Being near Damon was like sitting next to a live wire.

“So what do we do until we hear back from Terrance?” I asked.

“Head back to the motel, lay low. Maybe order pizza.”

I didn’t want to do that.

Locked together in an enclosed space…with a bed…I didn’t trust the set-up.

The tingling in my nerve endings was a warning sign that I wasn’t thinking straight and I didn’t want to do something stupid — like sleep with Damon.

My gaze shifted to the man. Yeah, because sleep is what he’d want to do with you.

“I could use a drink,” I said, desperate to avoid that motel room in my current state. “How about a beer or something?”

“We can’t afford to be seen together,” he said, deflating the hope in my voice.

“I can’t sit in that motel room for hours. I’ll go insane.”

“Are you always this dramatic?” he asked.

I balked. “Dramatic? Who’s being dramatic? And excuse me, for having an ounce of emotion when my life is on the line. Not everyone was born without the ability to emote.”

“You like big words, don’t you?”

I refused to respond. He was baiting me. “Is it your intention to piss me off so you can spend the night at the bar again? Maybe you want to snuggle up with Chantel and make sure she’s giving you more good intel.”

“Maybe.”

My mouth dropped open. “You’re not even going to try and deny it?” Damn, if I couldn’t keep the disappointment from my tone but I quickly recovered with a flippant shrug. “Whatever. Maybe you should. I mean, some women are into guys like you.”

“Guys like me.”

“Yeah. Big, dumb and…well, just big. Has anyone ever told you that you have a tendency to suck the air from a room?”

“No.”

“Well, you do.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” Then he added, “I’m not dumb.”

I shot him a quick look. Had I hurt his feelings? I didn’t think it was possible.

But I guess it was rude to call someone stupid.

Even though I wanted to slap him silly, I offered a mumbled apology because my grandparents raised me better than I was acting. “I shouldn’t have said that. My nerves are on edge and I’m hungry.”

“You’re hangry.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “Yeah, I guess I am. Maybe that pizza isn’t a terrible idea.”

“I get not wanting to go back to the motel to hide out like rats but if someone sees us hanging out, word’s going to get back to Davonte and we’re both gonna be fucked.

Right now I’m supposed to be looking for you, not sharing a cozy, candlelit dinner.”

A sudden thrill arced through me. Damon in a suit? No, I couldn’t see that. Those broad shoulders weren’t meant to be caged. In fact, so far the best look on Damon had been naked.

And wet.

Okay, so I might’ve snuck a look when he’d exited the bathroom after his shower.

Sue me, I’m human.

“I can’t really see you in a suit,” I admitted, biting my lip from smiling too hard. “I mean, you’re so…”

“Big?”

“Yeah.”

His lips twisted in a brief sardonic smile that did weird things to my belly until he said, “Not since my ma died. She was real lady. Not sure how she got stuck with a beast like me for a kid.”

That one statement opened up a million questions. Should I ask? Was it my business?

Would probing into his personal space violate some unspoken agreement between us?

It was the first real glimpse into Damon’s private world.

Probably best to just keep my mouth shut and let that admission slide.

Fuck it, I wanted to know more.

“What was your mom like?”

“The opposite of me, in every way.”

I chewed on his answer for a minute. I didn’t have to ask for more details. Damon’s mouth seemed to want to share, even if he didn’t.

“Ma wasn’t from this life. She, uh, was sweet and gentle. Kind.”

I tried to picture that kind of woman giving birth to a man like Damon.

A flush of private shame heated my cheeks when I realized my vision of what Damon’s family must’ve been like was nearly caveman-ish.

My tongue was tied. Each time I opened my mouth to utter something — anything — I swallowed it.

I didn’t know why he was sharing something so private about himself but I wasn’t going to cheapen the moment but saying something flip or cruelly blunt.

Maybe it was his way of making up for that curveball.

I didn’t need to ask to know that his mother was dead.

I wanted to know more but I wasn’t going to push.

Besides, my curiosity would only lead to more trouble.

Damon and I may have fostered some sort of relationship out of necessity but we both knew that as soon as that need was gone, so was our strange alliance.

Against my better judgment, my gaze darted to the man driving silently through empty streets, his mind elsewhere, his thoughts private.

Old scars marred his face from past fights in the cage.

His knuckles bore the same damage, though I could only imagine the true ruin beneath the skin.

Most men didn’t stay in the cage for as long as Damon.

It was a young man’s game.

Damon was like an old bull, battle-worn but still mean as fuck.

Cranky because his bones ached.

But the layers of muscle cording his body were still hard, steel beneath the battered flesh.

And even though Damon didn’t remember charging through Davonte’s men like a hot knife through butter, I did.

It was imprinted in my memory — a thing of terrible wonder.

I’d never seen the beauty or elegance of violence until that moment.

The truth was…I was struggling to remember why it repulsed me.

Damon…what have you done to me?