Trust Me(19)

He jogged up the steps, leaving me and Bash behind. I was about to follow but I stopped and locked eyes with my younger brother. "We good?"

He rolled his eyes at me but eventually, he inclined his head once in a curt nod. "We're good. But I want to know everything that's happening from this point forward. If he's screwing this up, we put our foot down and fight it out with him. As a family. Deal?"

"Deal."

It wouldn't come to that. I was going to go see Kayla, apologize for pushing her on the whole ladies MMA thing and get us back on track. As much as I'd protested at first, with her on my side, I felt I could really make my mark this year. Who knew? Maybe I'd look back at this as the best decision I'd ever made.

Stranger things had happened.

I took a quick glance at my watch. It was five-thirty on a Monday. There was a good chance she’d still be at the warehouse working, and if not, maybe I could get Mickey or his secretary to give me her home address, because she sure as hell wasn’t taking my calls.

“You go eat with your girl. I’ve got to go talk to Kayla. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”



When I pulled up to the warehouse fifteen minutes later and saw her car in the lot, I had it all planned out. I was going to go in, tell her how much I wanted to keep working with her, and that, until or unless she was ready, we could drop the whole thing about her getting into the ring.

I still had high hopes she’d be willing to try it in the future, but we had a year to work up to it before she was out of my life. Suddenly, a year didn’t seem like very long.

When I reached the warehouse front door, I was relieved to find it still unlocked. Now, if I could get past the secretary, I’d be in good shape. If I got this far only to have her call back to Kayla and find out she wouldn’t see me, it would’ve been a tough blow to take. Luck was on my side, though, and when I passed the little reception office, the lights were off.

I made my way down the long hallway toward the rest of the offices, but voices coming from the open section of the warehouse caught my ear. I followed the sound, realizing the closer I got that one of the voices was Kayla’s.

When I reached wide entrance, I stopped in my tracks, anger and another emotion I didn’t want to name crashing over me like a tidal wave.

Kayla stood in the middle of the boxing ring wrapped in Mickey’s arms, the remnants of a romantic dinner all around them. Every instinct came roaring to life, compelling me to charge at him. Take him down and beat him until he was bloody for putting his slimy hands on her.

Then it registered that she was hugging him back.

Just as I was about to turn around and walk out…go somewhere and burn off the fury pounding inside me, she lifted her head from its resting place in the crook of his neck and drew back as she met my gaze.

“Matty? What are y-”

"Are you fucking him?" I spat, wondering if I looked as disgusted as I felt and then realizing I didn’t give a shit. Just being around the guy made me want to take a shower he was so fucking slick, and to think of him touching Kayla made my skin crawl.

"Watch yourself, kid," Mickey muttered, his eyes going cold, like a snake.

"I'm not going to do this with you here. Go outside, I'll be there in two minutes and we can talk about this like adults, okay?" Her wide brown eyes pleaded with me, but I wasn't having it.

"We can talk about it right now. Are. You. Fucking. Him?"

"Son, I'm not going to tell you again,” Mickey said, crossing the ring and gripping the rope between us. “Watch your language or you're going to have a much bigger problem than Kayla on your hands."

"Don't call me son, you piece of shit. You're not my father."

He tipped his head with a grim smile. "Maybe not, but I'm hers and I'm not going to have some little prick talking to her that way in front of me."

The room seemed like it was closing in on me as his words sank in.

Her father.

Kayla James was Mickey Flynn's daughter.

"Jesus, Mick, that wasn't your secret to tell," Kayla said, her already pale face going milky white. "Look, Matty, I-"

I held up a hand and backed out of the room, still shaking with rage. So she wasn’t fucking him. Great. At least that meant she wasn’t a total idiot. She couldn’t help who her father was. I was a prime example that you couldn’t choose your parents. But she had the choice to tell me, and she chose not to, over and over again. When would I learn that trusting people was always, always a mistake?

"I don't want to hear it. Everything you've told me up until now was utter and complete bullshit, so listening to you is a waste of my time."

She was still calling after me as I jogged down the hallway and out the exit.