Page 37 of Forgotten Comeback
I’m in a fucking foul mood as I stalk to the door. Opening it so hard it nearly flies off the hinges, I usher John inside. “What the hell? It’s five in the morning. You know I was bartending last night.”
“This is important. You alone?”
“Yes.” Mia wanted to take me home after our hookup, but I came up with an excuse. I hate that Taylor was collateral damage, but dammit, if she couldn’t see the writing on the wall about Mia, she needs her damn vision checked. “Come on, I need caffeine.”
We walk to the kitchen, and I flip on the light, grabbing an energy drink from the fridge. Popping the top, I take a sip as my brother paces. “When’s the last time you heard from Russell?” he asks.
“It’s been a few days. Why?”
“Because he’s ghosted both me and Inferno.”
“Did you check the security footage at the gym?” Hope he didn’t, considering I nearly choked Russell out the last time we trained together.
John sighs, shaking his head. “It malfunctioned. Nothing was being recorded for weeks.”
He looks like he wants to say more, and I sigh. “Go ahead.”
“Did you kill him?”
I suppress a growl. “No.”
“Gavin, just level with me.”
“I didn’t fucking kill him,” I say with annoyance.
“Then what happened to Russell?” John presses.
“I don’t know. Have you tried calling him?”
“Course I’ve fucking called him,” he snaps.
I hold up my hands. “Let me try.” I hustle to my room, returning with my phone. Pulling up Russell’s contact, I hit call, but it goes directly to his voicemail. I end the call and ask, “What do we do?”
John’s hands fall on top of his head. For the first time in my life, my cock-sure brother doesn’t look so sure. “I don’t know. Between the setbacks at the construction site, to now this, I’ve got too much on my plate.”
“I can handle the gym for the time being,” I assure him. “Press pause on casino night until we can find a new manager. I’ll help Inferno schedule bartenders for the pop-up clubs and fight nights.”
“And your training?” John presses.
“I’ll spar with Dominic.” The plus side is I have no qualms laying his dumb ass out. “We’re not going to fade in the final round, alright?”
“I need your head in the game?—”
“My head’s in the game!” I pound the energy drink, crushing the empty can into a tiny aluminum ball and tossing it in the trash.
“Those bottles of liquor and dime bag say otherwise.” He nods to the counter.
Annoyed, I swipe the booze and bag of pot into the trash. “Happy?”
“Prove to me you can handle the responsibility, and yes, I’ll be happy. What’s happening with the Mia/Sal angle?”
“Meeting Sal this evening. According to Mia, he isn’t very bright. I’m wondering if a straight-up bribe isn’t the best avenue.”
“Feel him out and use your judgment.” His phone buzzes, and he growls when he reads the message. “I’ve gotta go. Keep me posted.”
He stalks to the door, pausing when I call, “You sure there’s not something else bothering you?”
“Isn’t this enough?” John mutters, walking out.
