Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(196)

“No, no… Listen, this is great—”

“No,” Auger said again.

“Come on, just this once,” Bryce said charmingly. He kicked off his shoes toward the window and left them there. Callie stifled a strong urge to tell him to put them on the mat by the door.

“No way,” Auger shook his head. He leaned forward and sorted through the stack of envelopes on the coffee table, wincing visibly at each of the return addresses: lawyer, lawyer, school loan, collection agency, cellphone company…

“Dude, I would do it for you. In a heartbeat,” Bryce pointed out sullenly.

Auger blew his breath out through puffed cheeks and dropped the stack on the little table. “Bryce,” he said wearily in that not this same old crap again tone, “you already do it, man, for everybody.”

“Not true,” Bryce retorted with an arrogant quirk of his eyebrow. “I only do it when I am getting paid.”

Auger sighed disgustedly. He flopped back on the sofa, dousing himself in sunlight. Callie heard her breath puff over her tongue as the golden light swept over every knot and swell.

Stop that! she yelled at herself. Is there nothing else in this apartment to stare at??

“I don’t fight,” Auger growled through his teeth. “I’m not just holding out on you, Bryce. I don’t fight. Ever.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Callie called out suddenly from the kitchen. Neither man acknowledged her.

Bryce sighed dramatically and pulled his tank top over his head, sniffing it briskly before throwing it toward the other corner. He peered down at his pecs and abs, checking the spray tan for streaks or blotches. Then he shrugged, apparently satisfied, and picked up a set of 50 pound dumbbells from the rack. “Right… right… you’re living the life of the reformed sinner… redemption and all that…”

“Bryce, leave him alone,” Callie warned, walking back toward the chair by the window. She flopped down on the worn upholstery, holding her breath by habit. They had gotten it off Craigslist and every time someone sat down it gave off a whoosh of stale grandma air.

Auger pivoted back on the sofa and laid out flat, crossing his feet toward Callie over the curved metal arm. She glanced at his bare soles and then looked down at her hands.

“Come on, Auger…” Bryce huffed as he curled each dumbbell to his shoulder. “I told Orion I would have somebody else, and Tony… Kirk… they’re in Green Bay at some Indian casino. It’s just one night.”

“I don’t fight,” Auger said again, his voice muffled behind his hands.

“Bryce, let it go,” Callie warned him. She saw his eyes bounce off her and back to Auger. He wasn’t going to listen to a word she said, but she knew Auger wasn’t going to give in, either. He could be bad cop. She could be silent cop.

“It’s on a boat, man. It’s a party for some rich people who want a little entertainment. No blood, just a couple of body shots and then you tap the mat. You’re done.”

Bryce paused, a dumbbell hovering next to his shoulder when he shrugged innocently. Auger squinted at him incredulously and coughed at the back of his throat. He started to say something then stopped, cutting his eyes toward Callie and adjusting his tone to something more reasonable.

“Listen, Bryce, I know what that means,” he said, his voice gravelly with restraint. “Everything is tame until somebody loses a bet. Then they want to see you get... hurt. I don’t want to be on either side of that, and I don’t know why you do either.”

Bryce tipped his head sideways, brushing off the criticism. “Whatever. It’s a living. You think anybody loves their job all the time? You think Callie loves her job?”

“All she has to do is hold her arms over her head and walk in a circle, Bryce,” Auger growled.

Callie’s jaw fell open. Auger pulled his head off the sofa and looked at her. “No offense.”

She cough-laughed, trying to think of a snappy response. “Yeah. uh... whatever.”

“Hey, ring-girl is a noble profession,” Bryce retorted.

Groaning, Callie let her head drop back and stared at the ceiling. “Please don’t try to help me, Bryce,” she pleaded.

“No, but it is!” he insisted. “How else are people gonna know what round it is, am I right? Just count? All the way to three? On their own?”

“Oh, geez, just stop…”

“I mean, they’d probably love it a little more if it paid two or three grand a night…” Bryce sighed meaningfully.

Auger pulled his arm down from his eyes and turned his head. Bryce dutifully curled the barbells over and over, purposely flexing his pecs.