Page 108 of Forgotten Comeback
“I fucking heard you.”
“What’d I say?”
I’m unable to answer because I wasn’t listening.
“If you want the championship belt, then I need you committed.”
Committed.
This time, the word doesn’t set me off.
“I’m committed.”
“Good, then?—”
“We can put in extra time tomorrow.” Ignoring his protests, I climb through the ropes and hustle out.
After a quick shower, I’m out the door and on my way to Taylor’s place. The locks are top of the line, but thinking a step ahead, I kept a spare key.
Parking behind her car, I quietly enter the gallery. The door to her studio is closed, but light peeks beneath it. “Taylor,” I call, making my presence known before sliding open the doors.
A paintbrush flies at my head, and I barely duck in time. “What have I done now, man-eater?”
Taylor’s eyes burn a hole through me. “I fucking told you that you were going to get me killed, but did you listen? Nooooooo!”
“You look pretty alive to me.” And damn rilled up, which in a twisted way, does things for me.
“Fabio has a picture of us kissing at the pier last night!”
“So?” I lift a shoulder.
“So?” Her voice rises several octaves. “So he’s demanding I bring him information about you!”
“Aww, and you told me first.” I grin. “See, you are my girl.”
That gets another paintbrush chucked my way. It bounces off my chest as I take a step forward. “Tell me exactly what happened,” I tell her calmly, holding up my hands.
Taylor’s back hits the wall, and she slides to the ground.
Taking my chances, I cross the room and join her on the floor.
“Fabio wants to know who you really are. Your connection to John Davis—a name I’ve never even heard—and your connection to Inferno,” she says quietly. “He also wants to know why you’re off-limits, whatever that means.”
“And what did you say when he asked all of that?” I press.
“That I didn’t know.”
“Did he threaten you?” I ask, my voice sharp as a razor blade.
She blows out a shaky breath. “Yes.”
Jumping to my feet, I’m already out the door.
“Gavin, wait!” Taylor calls behind me, but I slide behind the wheel and peel out, tearing up the pavement.
First stop is one of our construction warehouses, where I mix up my concoction and load everything in the back of a van. I go to grab a mask, but stop myself. Nah, I want Fabio to see my face.
I make my way across the city to Fabio’s restaurant. It’s closed, likely in celebration of his wedding.
