“OH MY GOD,” I whispered.
I grabbed my phone, wondering where his truck was, when two huge guys rushed out of the gym and took up posts on either side of him. Marcus swung at one guy as he took his arm to steady him, then barked something at the other.
If he saw me now, I knew what his reaction would be.
My stomach churned with dread as I watched them make their way inside. Marcus’s clothes had been disheveled, and his hair was a mess. I’d seen him drunk more times than I could count, but Marcus could hold his alcohol. I’d only ever seen him stumbling drunk a few times, and that was seconds before he passed out.
But the way he’d been swaying, like he was fighting for balance, that wasn’t drunk. That looked injured, like concussion injured.
Damn it.
I couldn’t just walk into the place and grab him. I knew what gyms like Tension were like for girls. It’s why I’d been sitting in my car for six days across the street. If Marcus didn’t want me there, every guy in the place, regardless if they knew him, would become his ally in a heartbeat.
The thought of Ben popped into my head, and I quickly pushed it away. I had two choices. I could wait it out and see if Marcus came back out, or I could call Hank. It wasn’t much of a choice. I dialed the club.
Two rings and Hank’s deep voice answered. “Seven-oh-One.”
“It’s Sia.”
His voice went from bored to concerned. “What happened?”
“I just saw him.” I exhaled a steadying breath. “He looks injured. He showed up in a cab and was stumbling, but it wasn’t a drunk kind of stumble. He was fighting for balance. Two guys came out and took him inside. Do you know anyone down here? Anyone I can call to see what’s going on?”
“I don’t know anyone who trains there personally, but I’ll call Pete Alastair, the owner of Alastair’s and see if he can send someone over.”
That was getting too many people involved, which would only make Marcus angrier, and it would take precious time I didn’t want to waste. “Thanks anyway, but never mind. I don’t want to get anyone else involved. You know how Marcus is about that. I’ll talk to you later.” I started to hang up.
“Wait.”
I stared at the filthy windows of the gym, hoping to catch a glimpse of Marcus as the sun sank below the top of the building. “What?”
“I can be there in a few hours.”
Something told me I didn’t have a few hours. I needed to get in there. “I appreciate it, but I can’t wait that long.” A group of five girls, all dressed like the hooker from earlier, came walking down the street. They passed the bar a few doors down and headed right toward Tension. “I gotta go.”
“Christensen has a friend in Miami.”
“Forget it.” The girls went into the gym.
“Damn it, Sia, this guy can help you. He owns a security firm.”
I didn’t need a security guard. I needed a muscle head with a few pounds on Marcus. Or a distraction, like the group of prostitutes walking into the gym right now. I pulled the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car. “No thanks.”
“Sia—”
“Bye.” I hung up and hurried across the street.
I yanked the door open and years’ worth of sweat stink hit me in the face. I didn’t pause when fifteen pairs of male eyes turned to look at me. But when I saw Marcus and four other guys surrounded by the girls, I froze.
One eye swollen shut, his jaw black and blue, his lip split and his cheek twice its normal size, Marcus looked worse than I’d ever seen him. A guy closest to the door dropped the free weights he was holding and stepped up to me.
“You come to work out?” He smirked, staring at my tits.
“No.” I shoved past him and moved toward the crowd around Marcus. The girls were all flirting, one hanging on Marcus’s arm, the others busy chatting with other guys. No one paid me any attention. “Marcus,” I said flatly.
One by one, they all turned to look at me, everyone except Marcus.
The guy who’d taken Marcus’s arm outside chuckled. “He’s already taken, sweetheart, but if you wanna wait your turn, I’m sure there’s plenty to go around.” He flexed his dragon-tattooed arms and winked.
All the guys laughed, but the girls now glancing at me looked pissed.
Marcus continued to stare blankly at the cleavage of the slut hanging on his arm. Glaring at me, she reached down and stroked him over his shorts.
“Marcus,” I snapped.
Slow, like he was in a drugged-out haze, Marcus lifted his head and his one eye met mine.
“Come with me,” I demanded.
Bullet fast, Marcus moved. Throwing off the girl, he lunged. His hand wrapped around my throat, and he got in my face.
“Go. Home,” he snarled viciously.
“Not without you.” I choked the words out.
His hand tightened, closing off my air. “NO.”
I used my last resort. “I need you,” I managed in a strangled whisper.
Marcus growled like an animal and threw me back.
I never saw it coming. My ass hit the cement floor hard, my back smarted, and I cried out.
Marcus spun and grabbed the girl who’d been hanging on him by her ponytail and dragged her toward the back of the gym.
I looked up at the other girls, and one pair of familiar brown eyes met mine. With a trace of fear in her eyes, the hooker from earlier, now dressed differently, gave a slight shake of her head.
His expression no longer playful, dragon tattoo guy stood over me. “Looks like he’s moved on.”
I pushed to my feet and pain shot from my tailbone, but I kept my face blank. “Fucking a slut doesn’t mean he’s moved on.” I didn’t show fear or weakness, and I didn’t tell them Marcus was my brother. The way Dragon Tattoo was glaring at me, I knew it wouldn’t have mattered.
Dragon Tattoo moved in front of me, blocking the way Marcus had just gone. “Since you have so much experience with this, you know the drill. Move the fuck on.” Every word was meant to threaten, but he didn’t know I knew the game.
“Do you know Marcus’s last name?” I asked without any intonation.
He snorted.
Now we had everyone’s attention. Good. “Do you?”
“Maher.” He pretended to look bored.
“Guess what my last name is.”
“I don’t give a shit if you’re married to the fucking president. Marcus wants nothing to do with you.”
Ignoring him, I answered my own question. “Maher.” Then I bluffed. “Do you know what his contract says about unsanctioned fights?”
We stared at each other.
He caved first. “I’m not his fucking babysitter.”
“No? So…” I swirled a finger around the area of my face where Marcus was hit. “You had nothing to do with his injuries?”
“Injuries?” He laughed and glanced at the guys behind him. Two of them fist bumped, then they all laughed. “He’s barely scratched.”
I pulled out my cell phone and pretended to dial. “I’ll see what his manager has to say about it.” I held the phone up to my ear. “What’s your name?” I asked Dragon Tattoo casually.
“Fuck you, bitch.” He reached for my phone.
I was expecting it. I dropped my phone and threw my arm up to block his. Then I swung through and grabbed his wrist. At the same time, I kicked out with my left foot and executed a perfect sweep.
Not expecting my move, he fell like a ton of bricks, and I moved with him. He hit the ground and used his free hand to break his fall. I landed on top of him with one knee on his chest, the other on his free arm and his wrist in my hands. Holding firm, I gave more torque as I dug my knee into his sternum and pressed his hand into a break position.
The girls gasped, and the men laughed.
“Same last name,” I ground out, leaning over Dragon Tattoo.
His nostrils flared.
I knew what he was thinking. “Go ahead,” I taunted. “You can easily throw me off.” But not before I’d break his wrist. I’d positioned myself perfectly. He knew it, and I knew it. If he tossed me forward, I’d twist his wrist right. If he used his legs and curled up and back to throw me, I’d twist left. Either way, it would snap the bones.
“What do you want?” he growled.
I took another gamble. “It’s not what I want, it’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to get Marcus and we’re going to leave.”
He snorted. “You won’t make it two steps when you get off me, bitch.”
The guys howled with laughter, egging him on to toss me.
I kept up the charade and named one of the biggest managers in the circuit. “When Marcus’s manager, Terrance James, finds out about this, he’s going to sue you and this dump of a gym.”
All I needed was for him to believe the lie long enough to get Marcus the hell out of here.
“Cunt,” he hissed. “I don’t give a shit who his manager is.”
Calling his bluff, I stepped on his chest, shoved myself up, and dropped his wrist. “Then you won’t care if I tell him a girl took you down.” Every piece of shit like him wanted a money-ticket manager like James.
He bounced up with the dexterity of a trained fighter. “I got a long memory, Maher,” he spit my last name out.
“Good.” I wasn’t joking. “That means you haven’t taken too many blows to the head.” I bent and picked my phone off the ground, then walked the way Marcus had gone.
The second I stepped down a long hall, I heard Dragon Tattoo snap at the others. “Show’s over!”
The familiar sound of weights clanking and the now subdued voices of the girls picked up. I bypassed the locker room and looked through the window in a door marked office. A metal desk and an old couch occupied the small space, but no Marcus. I pushed the panic bar on my last option and shoved open the emergency exit.
Dumpster, old rusted weight equipment, a few parked cars, I scanned the dark alley. Nothing. Then I heard a muffled gag.
“Faster,” Marcus barked.
Not wanting to, my feet moved forward anyway.
And I saw them.
Leaning against the building across the alley, his shorts pulled partway down, Marcus grunted as the girl he’d dragged outside kneeled in front of him.
Fisting her hair, Marcus slapped her face. “I fucking said faster.” He furiously pumped his hips and pulled her hair, using her ponytail as leverage.
Bile rose in my throat.
My brother growled and threw his head back. His whole body went stiff, and he let his grip on the girl go.
“Asshole!” she spat, hitting him in the leg.
As if his hands were made of lead, Marcus managed to barely pull his shorts up, then his arms dropped. “Fuuu….” He didn’t get the rest of the word out.
His eyes rolled back in his head, his body tilted sideways, and he started convulsing before he hit the pavement
“Marcus,” I screamed.
The girl scrambled backward on all fours as I rushed to him. His chest flopping like a fish, I grabbed his head. “Call 911!”
“Fuck this shit!” She got up and ran.
Foamy spit started coming out of his mouth.
“No, no, no,” I chanted, cradling his head in my lap. “Don’t you dare do this to me!”