Untamed (A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance)(103)
From what I know, Fletcher liked to fight and fuck. Can’t say I blame him; the girls are always everywhere, fawning, inviting.
In a different life, it might have been me. But Deidre always had me snared, from the first moment I saw her.
We go into his office at the back, shut the door. He opens his mini-fridge, pulls out a small plastic cup, unmarked, plain white.
“Here.”
I smell it. “Homemade?” I ask him.
“Lipoic acid for glucose uptake, ginger root for focus and energy, sesamin for energy expenditure efficiency, and the usual shit, electrolytes, minerals, vitamins. Been using it for years. Give it a try, tell me what you think.”
I take a sip. It tastes bitter, and spicy from the ginger.
“Sesamin?” I ask.
“A sesame oil extract, supposed to aid in more efficient energy utilization; the metabolism of glucose. Trials inconclusive, but I tried a month on and a month off and found a difference.”
“Tastes like shit,” I tell him.
There’s a pause. Though Fletcher and I have conversed over email about fight tactics, and the evolution of MMA, we never really small-talked. It was always business.
“What brings you to Australia, Duncan? Specifically, to my gym?”
“A girl,” I tell him.
“Fuck, it was a girl I got shot for.”
“You know Johnny Marino, right?”
“By reputation. Both as a boxer ahead of his time, and also as a mob boss.”
“He once told me,” I say, remembering it vividly for some reason. “That girls unravel athletes.”
Pierce shakes his head.
“Anyway,” I say. “Something’s come up.”
“How can I help?”
“Marino is after me, after my girl, and after my baby.”
Fletcher’s eyes ice over. “Your girl and your baby?”
“Yes.”
“Who is your girl?”
“His daughter.”
“Your foster sister?” Fletcher asks without pause. It’s curious to me that there’s no surprise or disbelief in his voice.
“That’s right.”
“What does Marino want with your kid?”
“Does it matter?”
Fletcher pushes his lips together. “No. When’s he coming?”
“I don’t know. He could already be here in Melbourne.”
“Has he got a crew?”
“What do you think?”
“Can you go to the police?”
“Absolutely not. Dee’s here on a fake passport.”
“Shit,” Fletcher says.
“It’ll get ugly. Storm’s coming, I can feel it. And even if I’m wrong, and it’s not, I still need to be prepared.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“A safe house in case we need it.”
“I got a nice place, out of the way.”
I nod my thanks at him. “Resources.”
Fletcher shifts in his seat. “Like what?”
“I need a gun.”
“Fuck, Duncan, I don’t know if I can get you a gun here. This is Australia, not America.”
“Can you try? Look, I’ll be poking around myself, but I figure you know people, more than me. I just got here, man, and if I’m going to protect my family against Marino, I’m going to need one.”
He takes a slow breath, and his brows pinch together. “Yeah. I think I got a couple of people who might be able to help you out. But I can’t risk anything. You meet them on your own.”
“That’s how I would have it,” I tell him.
“Do you want me to ask some of my boys to keep a lookout for Marino? They know the streets here, and if you give us a photo—”
“No!” I say. “Not the boys, leave them out of it.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t be telling them to go hunting, just if they see him.”
“Trust me, Pierce,” I say, leaning forward. “If these boys are growing up how I did, they’ll want to go looking. They’ll think it’s fun and cool. Don’t get them involved.”
Fletcher nods. “You’re right.”
There’s a moment of silence between us.
“He wants to take my boy, call him his own.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“You’re telling me.”
There’s a camaraderie between fighters, even the ones you fight. In the cage, you’re pit bulls trying to tear each other’s throats out. Shit, even right before the fight, before you even step into the cage, you’re enemies to the core.
But if one of us gets in trouble outside of the fight, it’s the other fighters you can count on more than anyone else.
Not your agents, your managers, your handlers, your whatever-the-fucks.
It’s the other men like you who take a beating for a living, who can come within inches of taking a life every single time they win a fight… who can come within heartbeats of losing their lives every time they lose a fight. Who risk permanent injury or brain damage every time they climb into the cage.