Page 30 of Juno

“And here I was, worried that my little brother had gotten himself in trouble when he stopped calling me. I just had no idea that he could handle the trouble and was trying to take care of me,” Rebel said. “So, what now? Where should we start looking for Jace?”

“We’re not going to look for Jace, and you definitely aren’t looking for him,” Savage said.

“We have specific orders from your brother that you’re to stay with me,” Bolt said. “I promised Jace that I’d keep you safe until he can figure out what to do about the traffickers.”

“And I told you that I don’t need a babysitter. It’s nice of my brother to try to protect me, but I can also take care of myself,” Rebel insisted. She wasn’t going to make any of this easy on him.

“Savage, can I borrow your truck? Take my bike in case anyone follows us. Plus, I don’t want Rebel jumping off the back of my bike trying to get away. I’ll take her to one of the club’s safe houses and will call when I get us settled and it’s safe,” Bolt said.

“There is no us and I’m not going anywhere with you,” Rebel spat.

“Suit yourself,” Bolt said. Savage tossed him the keys to his truck, and he hoisted Rebel over his shoulder. She gave him a fight, but he had expected her to. She shouted at him to put her down, kicking and screaming at him as he walked out of Savage’s office. He swatted her ass, telling her to calm down, but that only seemed to piss her off more. Yeah, Rebel was a handful, and he had to admit, she felt right up against his body—not that he’d break the bro code and do anything about it. He owed his partner at least that much.

Rebel (Royal Harlots: Huntsville Chapter Book 7) Universal Link-> Coming soon!

What’s coming next from K.L. Ramsey? You won’t want to miss Falling for the Knockout! It’s the first book in a new MMA/Boxer series called No Mercy and is coming in May 2025!

Anthony

Anthony Vitale, Jr. was living in his father’s shadow. He’d usually tell people that it started when he stepped into the ring as a boxer, just as his father had thirty years earlier, but it probably started when he was born and given his father’s name. Sr. had always wanted a boy to train to be just like him—it was inevitable, but him dying when Tony was only ten kind of ruined his plans. At least, that’s what his mother told him. He didn’t remember a lot about his father, but from the things he held onto, she wasn’t kidding when she told him that his father wanted him to follow in his footsteps.

Being second generation Italian, born in the States, kind of sealed his fate. When his mother had trouble filling in details about his father as he grew up, he went to his grandfather. His Nonno Elio was born in the “Old Country” as he called it. He told Tony stories about being a kid in Sicily and when he finished with those tales, they moved on to stories about his dad, but most of them involved boxing. He knew that his grandfather was proud of his son’s boxing career, but Tony needed details about his father’s life that didn’t involve the sport that ended up killing him.

Sr. was fighting outside of his weight class during his fatal last bout. Under his direction, his cornerman had paid off the referee to let him fight someone who was one weight class above his, and that proved deadly for his dad. Sr. was stubborn, and getting the shit beat out of him wasn’t enough to have him stop the fight. Hell, his cornerman or ref should have called a technical knockout, but a TKO wasn’t how Sr. wanted to win. And when his body hit the mat in the eight roundsSr., gone. He never stood a chance, and when he didn’t come home that night, his mother woke Tony to tell him about Sr. and it felt as though she was letting him know that a complete stranger had died. Her tone was flat and almost uncaring, and Tony was too young to know back then, but his mom was in shock. Later, when he told her that he wanted to get into boxing, she said that he’d end up like his father and admitted that she just couldn’t take that again.

She had checked out for some time, leaving Tony to practically raise himself during his teenage years. At first, he was fine with the lack of attention, but after a while, he began to feel like it was him against the rest of the world. That’s when he started fighting—not in a ring, but on the streets. Tony showed up from school with more scrapes and broken bones than his mother could keep up with, and that was when she sent him to live with his Nonno Elio. He couldn’t fault his mother—he had become a handful, but his grandfather was just as ill-equipped to take care of an angry, confused teenager as his mom was. His Nonno tried, and that meant something to Tony, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

The stories about his dad helped too, and when his Nonno Elio gave him his first pair of gloves and signed him up at the local gym to spar with other teenagers from town, he was hooked. His coach taught him patience and how to throw a right hook. His grandfather cheered him on, and his mother became even more distant. She refused to watch any of his bouts, saying that she wouldn’t live that life again and lose someone else that she loved. He resented her for that decision, but a part of him was glad that she wasn’t there. It gave him the push that he needed to be as ruthless with his opponents as he wanted—well, within the limits and rules of boxing.

Tony graduated from high school and told his grandfather that he wanted to become a boxer. There was no point in telling his mother since she wasn’t really talking to him at that point. She would have only tried to talk him out of it anyway, but his Nonno didn’t. He even became one of his cornermen and traveled with Tony everywhere that he went. He was the one who convinced Tony to go professional and join the World Series of Boxing, or WSB. Nonno Elio was even trying to convince him to train for the Olympics, but Tony knew that was just a pipe dream. He had to focus on one goal at a time, or he’d never get anywhere. That was something that he had learned about himself the hard way. Plus, Tony was pushing thirty-two, and that was usually when most boxers retired. He knew that making it big at his age was a long shot, but he couldn’t give up now—he’d already come so far.

It was why he was at the gym every morning at four and back after work every day for more training. Unfortunately, boxing didn’t pay the bills—yet, but that was the dream. So, for now, Tony was going to keep his day job working at his grandmother’s bakery. She passed a few years back but taught him everything he knew about running the bakery and making her special recipes from Italy. Plus, he made enough to pay the bills and got to help his Nonno keep the bakery afloat. His grandparents started the bakery over forty years ago, and selling the business wasn’t something his grandfather thought he could do. He knew that if his Nonna was alive, she’d try to tell him that he had options besides boxing, and he knew that was true. A part of him wondered what his life would look like if he took over the bakery and quit boxing, but he knew that he’d miss that part of himself. Hell, he would miss the bakery if he gave it up, so for now, he’d do both. It was his way of keeping his Nonno happy and his grandmother’s memory alive.

Tony pulled open the back door of the bakery and the smell of freshly baked bread hit him in the face. Just his luck that he’d given up all bread while he was getting ready for his upcoming fight, to make weight. He knew that he’d find Aurora in the kitchen, making everything that they’d sell for the day. Hiring her was his Nonno’s idea and a damn good one. Tony was running himself to the ground making sure that he was at the bakery early enough to bake everything that they needed for the day, and working out twice a day. His grandfather placed the ad behind his back and when pretty little Aurora showed up the next day, he couldn’t be mad at his Nonno. She was a professionally trained baker, which was more than he could say, and she seemed to really love the bakery. Nonno liked to tell him that his grandmother would have approved of Aurora, but Tony was sure that it was for his benefit. His grandfather seemed to like to stick his nose into Tony’s love life—or lack of love life and give him unsolicited advice. Sure, Aurora was beautiful, but he already had too much on his plate to consider adding dating to it.

Aurora smiled at him as he dropped his stuff back in the office. She always smiled at him. Hell, she was friendly and probably smiled at everyone, but for just a few minutes each morning, he felt like the luckiest man on the planet because Aurora smiled at him. “Morning,” he whispered. Tony was never sure why he whispered to her every morning. Maybe it was because it was still dark and quiet outside in the world. Or maybe he was afraid to speak too loudly to her for fear that she was just a figment of his imagination.

“Good morning,” she whispered back as though playing along with some silly game that neither of them was actually playing. “I’d point out that you’re twenty minutes late, but when your grandfather isn’t here, you’re my boss and I really need this job.” Tony wanted to point out that he technically wasn’t her boss, even when Nonno Elio wasn’t there, but his tongue didn’t seem to want to work. Aurora had that effect on him—rendering him speechless. She must have thought him to be an idiot. Half the time, he just smiled and nodded when she’d say something, or even ask a question. Tony just couldn’t help himself though. Around her, he couldn’t seem to speak.

“You okay?” she asked, “you seem a bit out of it this morning.” He wanted to point out that he always acted this way around her, but didn’t want to draw attention to his own shortcomings. He nodded and she smiled at him as she pulled a tray of fresh bagels from the oven.

“I’m betting that you’re not a morning person,” she said. “I mean, judging by the way you never seem to want to talk to me in the morning. Or the other answer could be that you just don’t like me. Is that it, Tony? God, I hope that I didn’t do anything to upset you.” He smiled over at her and shook his head. It was a simple gesture that had her deflating some. Tony was going to tell her that he never really talked much in the morning to anyone, but that wasn’t the truth. In fact, on the mornings that his grandfather came into the bakery, to check on them, he talked his Nonno’s ear off.

“I just need some coffee, and I should be fine,” he lied. Coffee wasn’t going to help him come up with something clever to say. No, he was probably doomed to keep repeating their silent song and dance every morning until he either worked up the nerve to talk to Aurora, or she ended up leaving the bakery after getting sick of his shit.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” she challenged. “You don’t seem any more sociable after coffee.” Aurora huffed out her breath put another tray of bagels in the industrial oven and shut the door. “Listen, just forget that I said anything. Is Elio coming in this morning?” she asked. It had been a few weeks since his grandfather made his way into the bakery. He got the flu and then, walking pneumonia. His nonno spent a lot of time in bed, resting and recovering, as per the doctor’s orders.

“I’m not sure if he feels one hundred percent still,” Tony said. “He has a doctor's appointment this afternoon, and hopefully, we’ll get some good news.”

“I’m going to cross all of my fingers and toes,” Aurora said. “Can you do me a favor and call me—you know, to give me an update?”

“Of course,” Tony agreed.

“Do you need my number?” Aurora asked. He didn’t want to tell her that he already had her number programmed into his cellphone. He put it in the day she applied for the job and even had a picture of her with her contact information. He had snuck a quick pick while she was decorating some cupcakes. It made him feel a bit creepy, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“Um, no,” he breathed. “I’m sure that my grandfather has it.”

“Don’t be silly,” she insisted. “Give me your phone.” He hesitated, not sure that he wanted to just hand over his phone to her. What if she saw her number and the picture he sneaked of her? That might send her running out of the bakery, and his poor grandfather would have to find someone else to hire.

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