Page 162 of Indulge
“Yeah. Train. Not fight to the death. Technically, I ain’t been signed off from the doc for this yet. Reggie was about to blow his lid at me for this, too.”
He rolls his eyes.
“You done?” he asks.
I take a breath that burns my lungs. “Yeah. Gonna need some painkillers after this.” I head to the bench, grab two bottles of water and toss him one, downing mine in a single, hot gulp.
“I gotta get back before Hallie puts our boy to bed,” he says, and I smile; it’s quiet and soft to see the Quinn brothers settled like this, like the worst of it’s behind them. They’ve lost a lot and fought harder.
“I hear you have a girl to get back to now, though,” he winks.
I chuckle. “Yeah. I do.” Saying it out loud makes my chest feel too full to breathe.
“You and Reg really think you can share her, like, forever?” Conan asks.
I shrug. “It might get difficult, but we’re both crazy about her.”
He arches an eyebrow. “In love?”
My heart hammers so loud it drowns out the gym radio. I’ve never said the words before. I’m not sure I was supposed to so early—does love get a timetable? But when I think of Bella it’s clean and sharp and terrifying. It hits me like a fist and a shelter all at once.
“I’ve not said the words out loud yet. Doesn’t feel right so soon.”
Conan nods slow. “If you died tomorrow, would you regret never telling her?” His voice goes quiet; there’s a scar there I’ve seen before with him and Hallie.
“You wishing on my death?” I half-joke.
“No. You know what I mean.” He watches me chew the inside of my cheek.
“Yeah. I’d be fucking pissed, Con.”
“There’s your answer then. Tell her.”
My phone buzzes on the bench and I frown. Lyla. I hit decline before it finishes ringing. “Is Lyla still working at Inferno?” I ask. My chest tightens at the memory of the way she rattled Reggie the other day; I don’t want to go near that.
“I think so. I don’t go there, only for meetings, but I ain’t heard she’s been fired.” Conan checks his phone. “Shit. I really gotta go. You good to lock up?”
“Yes. Go. Daddy Conan,” I tease.
“Only Hallie can call me that.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and jogs out. I stare at the missed call. I shoot a quick text to Reggie.
Me: Reg. Lyla keeps calling. Is she going to be an issue?
Reggie: Do not answer. Block the number.
Me: Heard.
I block her number, toss the phone in my bag, and close down the gym. By the time I reach the car, headlights cut through the dusk. I grab the gun from the glovebox and rest against the hood as the car slows. She’s behind the wheel. I tuck the gun into my waistband and walk toward her.
“What the hell are you doing, Lyla?” I ask as she slams the door and climbs out.
“I need to talk to you.”
“How did you find me?”
She steps closer and my blood goes cold with annoyance. “I asked a few favors at the club. Lucky third guess.” My knuckles itch imagining the men I’ll beat at Inferno later. “Look, I gotta get home. What do you desperately need to tell me?”
She smiles, throwing her blonde hair over her shoulder.
