Being a fourth-year senior in college normally didn’t bother Lia. There were plenty of non-traditional students. But today, as she stood behind the coffee bar at Liquid Wisdom and eavesdropped on the two freshman girls waiting for their drinks, she felt about forty-two instead of twenty-seven. Starting in on the second tall, double-shot, extra-hot, Splenda, soy, vanilla latte with extra whip, she wanted to shake her head. As the two girls waited for their completely hypocritical drinks, they flipped their hair, giggled like hyenas, and said the words “I meannnn” way more than necessary.

Squirting on enough whip to make them hopefully gain a pound each, Lia glanced at the name on the side of the cup and sighed. Everyone thought they were so cute. Especially young sorority girls without a gosh-dang care in the world. Must be nice.

Walking over to the delivery counter, she held up the drinks. “One of you is Bad Ass Bitch and one of you is Bad Ass Bitch’s BFF, but since the drinks are identical, I’ll let you sort it out.” She pasted on an over-the-top smile and laid the drinks on the counter before walking off.

Her friend Abbie just laughed as she leaned over and pulled a jug of half-and-half from the reach-in fridge. In her best Kardashian-esque voice she whispered, “I mean, like, how many times can you say I mean? I mean, am I right?”

Lia grinned and headed back to start on the next order. She was halfway into an iced, soy, chai tea latte when she heard the word “Exquisite” whispered by a guy in line. On instinct, she lowered her head and kept working, although she desperately wanted to glance up to see if she recognized anyone.

Despite being an hour out of town, the private club drew in a decent clientele of college students, and even though the law required a patron to be twenty-one, Becker was known to turn a blind eye if wealthy frat boys showed up. If they could present a decent fake I.D., he was happy to take their money. To hell with how shitty they treated the girls there.

The boys continued to chuckle among themselves, and thankfully Lia had to turn to the back counter to make a frozen drink.

“Hey, those guys say something to you?” Abbie whispered over Lia’s shoulder. She was the only person who knew that Lia worked at Exquisite a few times a week, and had for years. Abbie was the kind of friend every woman should have. Funny, smart, caring, and most of all loyal as hell. Lia’s best friend was also a lesbian, and some days she almost wished she was too so they could ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. Except . . . no way. Lia was still attracted to men, as flawed as they were. Someday she might look for a Mr. Right Enough, but for now she had plenty to worry about.

“No, they’re fine. I just overheard their conversation so I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

“I heard them, too. Shitheads. No way they’re twenty-one. Why don’t I take over for a minute? The line has thinned. Julian can handle the register.”

“Thank you, Ab. I owe you.” Abbie just waved her off, and Lia tucked her chin into her chest and headed for the back.

It was silly to be so paranoid about people finding out about her second job, considering she wore a disguise when she worked there. But there was always the fear that someone might recognize her, start questioning, and possibly put it all together. She was not even a dancer there, but it didn’t matter. Women who objectified themselves for money were beneath everyone else. At least that’s how her college classmates, the faculty at the high school, and the general world would see it. Even if she was just a cocktail waitress with a short skirt. The place was low class, but the money she made there was no joke—the reason she hadn’t been able to give it up, no matter how often Abbie begged her. Not because her friend looked down on her work, she just knew how much Lia hated doing it.

The only way out was to get through this final semester of school and find a solid job. The kind that required pencil skirts and sweater sets instead of booty shorts and bustiers. Lia wanted a career. One that offered good health insurance, a retirement plan, peace of mind, and some much-needed self-respect. But more important, one that allowed her to give Caleb a better life than he’d had up until now. He deserved that. Her dream was that her little brother could go to college and not have to work demeaning jobs to support himself. One trashy child in the family was enough.

* * *

Two weeks and no sign of Caleb. Week one made sense. Tyler knew the guy had needed to heal and rest. But now he was starting to think Big Sister had gotten her way and was keeping him from coming to open gym.

Boys like Caleb were the very reason Tyler started the free open-gym program for teenage boys on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at Resolute. The only requirement for membership was that the teens turn in their school attendance record each month and that the records show fewer than two missed days a quarter. Fair trade, he thought. They didn’t have to be doing well in school, but they had to be showing up.

A few of the other guys who went to school with Caleb had informed Tyler that he’d been back to school the next day after he’d been jumped, though none of them had been too helpful in telling Tyler about what happened. Only one guy mentioned seeing a group of what they called the “farm kids” talking to Caleb in the hall, but he wasn’t even sure if it was related.

Tyler didn’t know if the other boys who came in truly had no idea or just didn’t want to get involved. But everyone agreed on Caleb. He was a pretty quiet guy. Kept to himself. Didn’t seem to make trouble or enemies. None of the story added up, and although Tyler knew it wasn’t his business or his problem, he couldn’t help but worry about the kid. And think about his sister.

He headed into his office, where his accountant Donna was doing his books for the month.

“Am I rich yet?” he joked as he headed for the small refrigerator on the back wall, pulling out a bottle of water and twisting off the lid.

“Filthy rich. I just signed the papers on your new yacht. We leave for the Caribbean next week.”

“Who says I’m taking you with me?”

She leveled him with her classic Donna stare, which included one eyebrow perfectly pointing to the sky. “I come in here every week and sort through your disgusting excuse for bookkeeping and organization. You’ll take me wherever I want to go.”

Tyler laughed. “Better watch it, D. I’ll stop giving you that gift card to McDonalds for Christmas.”

“Nice try. I know your bank password, Slick. This year I’m buying myself a year’s worth of pedicures from you.”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“That’s more like it.”

Donna had been with Tyler from the beginning. By the looks of her, she’d been an accountant before he was even born, but she refused to tell him her age. He liked to try and guess, but her ever-changing hair color and Botox-filled brow made it a little tricky. What mattered was that the woman kept him organized, his bills paid on time, and his account happily in the black. She was also a wiz with the stock market, so he was the proud owner of a successful and varied portfolio. Quite an improvement for a man who had spent his teen years fighting and breaking into cars for cash. Honestly, the fact that he’d never been caught and sent to prison still blew his mind.

Tyler sat down on the sofa across from his desk since Donna liked to sit in his chair. He was about to tease her again when there was a knock on the open door. He looked over to find Caleb standing there.

“Hey, man. Come on in.” Tyler scooted to the far end of the sofa so Caleb could sit down. “How you doing?”

“I’m okay.” Caleb took a seat. His eye was no longer black, and the cut on his cheekbone was healing nicely. Only a puffy pink line remained.

“You look a hell of a lot better.”

“Yeah. The scar’s not so bad,” Caleb said.

“Nah, chicks dig scars. Right, Donna?” Tyler winked at his accountant.

“Only if you’re good-looking to begin with,” Donna said. She gave Caleb a once-over. “Which means you’ll be just fine, young man.”

Tyler laughed at the look on Caleb’s face. “That was not creepy at all, D. Caleb, this is my great-great-grandmother, Donna. She’s also my accountant.”

“Ignore him, Caleb. I’m young enough to be his sister.” Donna never missed a beat.

“Now see, Donna. That only proves your dementia is setting in.” Tyler turned to Caleb. “She’s not really my grandmother at all . . . but you considered it, didn’t ya? It’s the purple hair. Dead giveaway. And the fact that she looks old as hell,” Tyler whispered loudly while Donna glared at him.

Caleb gave an awkward smile. “Could have been true. My sister’s quite a bit older than I am. I mean . . . not that much older. No offense, ma’am.”

Donna just rolled her eyes. But Tyler couldn’t help thinking that now they were getting somewhere. In fact, he wouldn’t mind Caleb sharing all of Lia’s secrets. “Oh yeah? How old is she?”

“She’s uh . . . twenty-seven, I guess. Yeah.”

So, she was only slightly younger than Tyler’s thirty-two. Totally acceptable. Not that it mattered. “She know you’re here?”

“No. I’d rather she didn’t.”

Tyler frowned. “Dude. You need to tell her.”

The kid shrugged. “I will eventually. Right now I just need some space. For nearly two weeks she was driving me everywhere.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Yeah, except she was constantly cranky because it made her late for work and class. It’s just easier if I take care of myself.”

“Nothing wrong with being independent. But give your sister some credit. She’s doing what she thinks is best.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“I’m happy to have you here no matter what. But I’ll tell you right now I won’t lie for you if it comes to that. And I encourage you to tell her what you’re doing sooner rather than later. You know what they say about honesty being the best policy and all that.”

“I get it. It’s just . . . I have to learn to stick up for myself. You’re right.”

The conviction in Caleb’s voice hit Tyler on an emotional level. He knew what that felt like, the need to be your own man. In control of your destiny, and not let some punks best you.

In Tyler’s opinion, there were two main kinds of guys in a gym. The ones who were there for the vanity, and those select few who came for survival. Sure, there was some crossover. Everyone liked to look good without a shirt on. But usually what led someone through the front door and kept them coming back was one or the other.

Caleb was a survivor, and Tyler could easily pick up on that because he’d been a survivor also.

Tyler sat up and rested his elbows on his knees. “How confident do you feel that these guys will come for you again?”

“There’s a good chance, yeah. And they deserve . . . well . . . they sort of deserve to—”

“Get their asses beat?” Donna interjected.

Caleb looked startled and shuffled in his seat. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Tyler watched the kid. He could see that same mix of fear and determination in him now that he’d seen when he first came into the gym months ago. Caleb was now probably fifteen pounds heavier and motivated to do something with it.

“Did your sister file a police report?” Tyler asked, although he was sure he knew the answer. Whatever was going on—whoever the guys were that jumped Caleb—the odds were he wouldn’t want to involve the police.

Caleb’s eyes widened. “No. She wanted to, but I begged her not to.” He shrugged, not making eye contact now. “Lia’s still mad I won’t tell her who did it. She called the school and everything.”

“But they aren’t doing anything?”

“What would they do? It didn’t happen on school grounds and I haven’t ratted them out.”

“And why is that, Caleb? Because, so we’re clear, I see no fault in you doing just that.”

Caleb looked up then, resolution shining in his eyes. “I just can’t. I need to deal with this on my own.”

Tyler hesitated. He hated that he could relate to this kid so well, because a smart adult figure would tell him to stop being ridiculous and rat these fuckers out to the police. But sometimes street bullshit required street justice. “Before we move forward, I want us to be clear. I’m gonna give you the skills to defend yourself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want these guys held accountable. You get jumped again, we’re calling the cops.”

Tyler watched as Caleb eyed him, then Donna, who gave the kid the Donna brow. “Okay. But until then, please don’t tell my sister I’m coming here.”

With a sigh, Tyler shook his head. Hopefully he didn’t see Lia again, because this was a secret he wouldn’t like keeping. “For now, I’m going to do this your way, but I reserve the right to change my mind at any moment. And like I said, I won’t lie to her face, so if she comes in here and asks me, I’m being honest.”

Caleb obviously didn’t care for that response, but Tyler couldn’t offer any other solution. “Understood,” the kid muttered.

Tyler nodded. “So, Lia is your guardian. Your parents pass away?”

“No. My mom, uh . . . she just can’t look after me anymore.”

That could mean so many things, but it didn’t take a genius to see that Caleb was not interested in elaborating, so Tyler moved on. “What about your dad?”

The kid shrugged. “Gone. But I’m not upset about it.”

Tyler nodded. “I get it, man. I do. You’re lucky to have a sister who cares so much about you. Hope you realize that.”

“I do. She’s cool, just a little uptight.”

“Taking care of a teenage brother is no joke. It’s obvious she cares about you.” Tyler watched as Caleb fiddled with a string on his hoodie. “So . . . what does Lia do?” And was he being too obvious?

Caleb shrugged. “She has a couple of jobs. At the coffee shop, and some bar in another town.”

Tyler nodded, trying to cover his surprise. The coffee shop was just down the street, and he would have certainly remembered seeing a woman like Lia around the neighborhood. Not that he ever went into Liquid Wisdom. Tyler didn’t do hipster coffee. He did cheap and black. And yet, he suddenly had a craving for something a little fancier. Funny how that worked.

Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not interested in her, are you? Guys always are.”

Okay, so he was being too obvious. And what the hell did “guys always are” mean? Besides the obvious. That was irritating.

“I’m just trying to get a feel for your life, Caleb. That’s all.” He was also a liar.

Caleb appeared to assess Tyler’s response. Finally, he relaxed a little. “Lia goes to school here at K-State. She’s trying to graduate soon.”

“Good for her,” Donna interjected.

“Yeah, that’s impressive,” Tyler agreed. He’d never taken a single hour of college classes. Hadn’t even officially graduated high school. He’d gotten his GED and only done that so he could enlist in the Army. He admired people who got an education. People like him had limited skills, and hopefully, like Tyler, they could find a profitable way to put them to use and then hire out the necessary bullshit to people like Donna. It was a little unorthodox, using his skills as a fighter to make a living as a coach and a gym owner, but he also credited his work ethic to his time in the military. First the Army and now National Guard.

He wouldn’t recommend his path, though. It was hard fought—literally and figuratively—and he very easily could have ended up behind bars many times. He wanted more for the boys he mentored, and he respected Lia for obviously wanting the same for her brother. School and two jobs. Damn, he had gotten her all wrong, and if he could help Caleb—and her—even a little bit, he would. Even if she’d be pissed when she found out.

And she would find out. Tyler knew it was always only a matter of time before the truth was revealed. He just had to trust his instincts on this one and hope she’d come around.

“All right, so, I guess it’s time we get to work.” Tyler stood up. “You ready?”

Caleb stood also. The kid was nearly six foot. His arms and chest still needed some work, but he’d filled out nicely over the summer, coming in for every session of open gym. Tyler could work with that. A few tweaks here and there, but if he knew anything, he knew how to make a man into a fighter.

“I’m ready. Can you make me as good a fighter as you were?”

Tyler laughed out loud. “Aw hell, man. I don’t know about that. I learned a lot from the street. But I promise you this. I can make you good enough that if somebody starts shit with you, they won’t make the mistake twice. That work?”

“That’ll work,” Caleb said with a crooked grin.

“And what do you mean, as good a fighter as I was? You think I can’t still beat the hell out of someone?”

Caleb looked panicked, so Tyler just slapped the kid’s back. “I’m just messin’ with you. Let’s do this.” Tyler motioned Caleb toward the door. Before exiting himself, he turned to Donna. “Don’t die on me while I’m gone.”

She responded by giving him one pointy red middle finger.