I’d lied to a lot of people in my life, but I didn’t like lying to Maggie. I’d lied about not caring about her, but only to make myself feel better. To cover the fact that I wasn’t the man I wanted to be. It was no wonder she didn’t like me.

I hated weakness—addicts, marks who begged, people who couldn’t get their lives together or always blamed someone else when things went wrong. But it turned out I was just as bad. I thought I was strong, but I was still under Simon’s thumb. I always obeyed, never stood up to him, never said no.

But I was done. Setting up a meeting for me with Andrew Arthur had been the last straw. I had no desire to play nice with that guy, or worse, grovel. So I didn’t go.

When he found out, Simon summoned me to his sprawling mansion outside the city. I entered the passcode in the gate and drove through, parking my truck in front of his triple-car garage. The house was Spanish-style with pale stucco and arched windows. The inside was like a museum, with priceless art Simon had bought on the black market and an uneven tile floor that I used to stub my toe on as a teenager.

I’d lived here for four years, back when Simon took me off the streets until he got me my own apartment. When I wasn’t learning how to fight, I spent most of my time here alone, taking care of the house and grounds and working my butt off to get my high school diploma. My room here was probably the same, still bare of anything but a bed and a dresser.

Simon was in the kitchen at the breakfast bar, drinking a coffee and reading the newspaper. I poured myself a cup and sat at the kitchen table, waiting until he was ready to acknowledge my presence. Tension made the air heavy.

“You better have a good reason for not meeting with Andrew Arthur,” he said at last, folding the newspaper and setting it on the counter.

I set the coffee cup down. “I was busy.”

His mouth tightened. He didn’t say anything for a long time and neither did I. It was a showdown, waiting to see who would crack first. It wouldn’t be me. I hadn’t done what Simon asked, but had no excuse he would like.

“What about Fred Madsen, or whoever he really is?”

“He disappeared without a trace.”

His fist slammed onto the table. “There’s always a trace. You’re not looking hard enough.”

I rose from the chair. Simon had long ago taught me about the balance of power, and sitting lower than him wouldn’t help my case.

“I’m going to buy the gym.”

He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“Eastside Boxing. I’m going to buy it. McCrary wants to sell it to me, and I have enough set aside to put a down payment on it.”

“No.”

It was my turn to frown. “I’m not asking permission.”

Simon stood, but his short frame would never come close to mine. “You won’t have time to work for me and run a gym at the same time.”

I crossed my arms. “I can’t work for you anymore.”

Simon was still for a moment, and then he sat back down. His lips curled up at the corners. “I must have heard you wrong. Because I know you’re not that stupid.”

My jaw tensed.

“I will take everything from you. Do you understand me? Your apartment, your salary, your truck.”

My hands tightened into fists. I’d expected as much. “Fine.”

“Margaret.”

I feigned indifference. “What are you talking about?”

“I know how you feel about her. It was obvious in the car the other day.” He adjusted his tie. “I also know her and Fred are connected. She didn’t borrow from another lender. So, if you don’t work for me, who will stop me from forcing the truth out of her? Who will protect you when the police find out about all the evidence you planted or made disappear?”

Adrenaline pumped through my body, my vision blurred.

“And then there’s the charges your foster sister leveled against you.”

“I’m an adult now, they can’t—”

“You were accused of abuse. I made those charges disappear. I can make them reappear.”

I struggled to keep my breathing even. “I didn’t do it.”

“Of course not.” He smiled but there was no warmth to it. “But I doubt any parent would want you anywhere near their children if they knew the accusation. Doubt that will help your new business.”

My body went cold. If the story got out, I would never get students. No parent would risk their children with someone who had that on their record, even as a child, especially someone who then ran away from home, from the system.

For two years I’d lived on the streets of Vegas, begging on the strip and avoiding the cops, hiding out in abandoned warehouses, making friends with the other bums, learning to use my fists to get what I needed, to keep the dealers and perverts away. And then Simon had found me.

He was staring at me now, hands clasped over his stomach, waiting. Knowing there was nothing I could do to get free of him.

I dropped into the chair.

Simon stood and leaned over me. “Look at you, all grown up and trying to leave the nest. Don’t think I’m unsympathetic, son. Tell you what. Find Fred Madsen for me, meet with Arthur, and we’ll discuss it. Maybe I can lighten your workload. I’m sure you could make time for both me and the gym.”

It would never end. “I want something of my own. Something I can build up that’s just mine. Can’t you understand that?”

“I do, Jason. It’s the American Dream. But you’re indispensable to me. I’m sure you understand that.”

Jason. Whenever he used my proper name, it was a reminder of who I’d been when he found me. A reminder of what he’d saved me from. I’d shed Jason from myself long ago, I was no longer that boy, but that’s all Simon saw. Someone who could be used because he needed to be saved.

Simon put his hand on my shoulder. “Get me Fred Madsen. I’ll set up another meeting with Arthur. Then we’ll talk.”

I drove away from Simon’s with my stomach a tight ball of anger. Deep down I knew it would go this way, but I’d still hoped for something else. Hoped that my years of loyalty might have meant something to him.

This second meeting with Andrew Arthur was unavoidable, but maybe I could convince Simon to come with me. Then I’d tip off Hopkins. He could get pictures, or fit me with a wire. I was ready to do anything to get away from Simon for good.