Page 14 of Fury

“I don’t think your bent coppers will care where the match is as long as they get to see some blood.”

He arches a brow. “You know, if you play nice, I will reward you very well.”

I scoff. “I just wanna pay this debt off and be on my way.”

He grins. “Take the day to rest or work out or whatever you fighters do. I don’t need you. I have a hot date.”

“With the nurse?” I ask.

He grins wider. “Yes. She’s falling for my charm.”

“I didn’t think a guy like you would want to be tied down.”

“What can I say, she turned my head,” he says, winking before heading off into his office.

Chevy is leaning in the kitchen doorway. “He’s got it bad.”

“Seems so,” I mutter.

“He’s got big hopes for you at the fight tonight,” he adds. “Don’t let him down.” And then he goes back into the kitchen.

I head back to the clubhouse, stopping by Axel’s office. “Where the fuck have you been?” he demands.

“Donnie,” I say as way of explanation.

“Oh yeah, what’s he up to?”

I shrug. “Not much. He’s moving the fight from the underground club to a legitimate setting.”

“Why?”

“Reckons he’ll make more money that way seeing as he’s not fixing it.”

“Do you know who you’re fighting?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t care. I’ll beat him.”

He laughs. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The club Donnieis using for the match is upmarket. Way better than any place I’ve ever fought in before. Even the changing rooms are kitted out well.

Axel holds up the pads, and I punch them in turn, moving quickly as he backs away. The door opens, and Donnie comes in with Xanthe on his arm. I run my eyes over the shimmering white dress clinging to her curves and diamonds hanging from her ears, and I roll my eyes. It didn’t take him long to have her looking the part.

“Are you ready?” he asks, shaking hands with Axel and Grizz.

“Yep,” I mutter, turning to the punch bag instead.

Donnie steps away with Axel, and Xanthe stands awkwardly watching me. “Good luck,” she murmurs.

“Thanks.”

“Look,” she whispers, moving a step closer. “I’m fine. Honestly.”

“Good,” I mutter, hitting the bag harder.

“I don’t want us to fight about it.”

“I don’t even know you anymore,” I say, frowning in irritation. “I don’t care what you do or who you date.” I know my words hurt her because her face displays it well as she steps back and heads towards the door.

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