My breath catches in my throat. Jim is the kind of guy I usually go for—a little bad, a little dangerous—and if Cora comes with me, I won’t have to worry about something going wrong. But there’s something about him that makes me uneasy, and when I think about being alone with him, my heart pounds, and not in a good way.

    “Who’s going to break?” I step back, but Jim doesn’t step with me. Instead, he plasters himself against my back, winds one arm around my middle, and grinds his crotch into my ass.

    “Stop it. We just want to play pool.” I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip.

    “You being a tease?” he murmurs in my ear. “Bending over the table showing off those sweet tits, wiggling that beautiful ass until I’m so fucking hard I can’t…”

    And then he’s gone.

    Rampage shoves Jim face-first into the wall, his hand around Jim’s neck. On the other side of the table, Blade Saw grabs Rick’s collar, keeping him out of the fight.

    “You got a problem with the word no?”

    “It’s okay.” I put my hand on Rampage’s massive tatted forearm. “I had it under control.”

    “Got real tired of watching him trying to get under your skirt.” Rampage shakes my hand away. “This is the kind of fucker who’s gonna take advantage. He’s gonna hurt you. Sweet girl like you needs to be with someone decent. I don’t know why you keep going after the trash. Makes me worry about the nights you go out when I’m not around.”

    “Ouch.” I step away, swallow past the lump in my throat.

    “I’m telling you like it is because I’m your friend.” He drops his voice so only I can hear. “Friends watch out for friends. And right now this fucker is going for a walk, and you’re not going with him.” He grabs the back of Jim’s shirt with his free hand and frog-marches him out of the bar. Blade Saw gives Rick a shove and follows them out.

    “So you’re just friends?” Cora raises a quizzical eyebrow.

    “Yeah,” I say. “Just friends.”

3

    Go home, Pen

    PENNY

    Between the humiliation of Friday, the alcohol, and a late-night party with Cora’s university friends on Saturday night, I get very little sleep over the weekend and arrive at Amanda’s office on Monday morning in a very bad mood.

    “So, how was the fight on Friday?”

    Ray “the Predator” Black, Amanda’s private investigator, Redemption fighter, and permanent resident on Amanda’s client couch, peers over his newspaper as I walk into the office. He’s the only person I know who reads an actual physical newspaper. He’s also the only person I know who would beat up a celebrity in a dark alley to avenge me and pretend it wasn’t him. Although he’s now married, he is very protective of me in an overbearing-brother kind of way.

    “Fine.” I’m not interested in talking. I am interested in coffee, and lots of it. Ray and I have an unspoken understanding that whoever gets to the office first has to make the coffee, and if he’s shirked his duty today, I’m going to kill him.

    “I heard Rampage won his fight and you were on TV,” he says casually, although Ray is not a casual man. Rumor has it that he used to be in the CIA, and from some of the things that happened when he first hooked up with his wife, Sia, I suspect the rumors are true. “I also heard that Rampage beat up Juice Can ’cause he knocked you over, and some dude in Score who was hitting on you,” he continues.

    Damn. Gossip at Redemption spreads faster than it did at secondary school. “If you know everything, why are you asking me?” I grab the coffeepot and fill my cup. Everyone thinks that because I’m British, I drink tea, but I’ve been a coffee drinker since I left home at the age of seventeen.

    “I like to get my information from the source.”

    I add a little cream and sugar and take my first sip. My tension eases a tiny bit as the warm, bittersweet liquid slides over my tongue. This is definitely going to be a three- or four-coffee day. “Your source confirms the information you already have, except you missed the bit about me having the bar situation under control and being irritated that Rampage interfered. Maybe I wanted to go home with the guy. Maybe he was the one and I lost my chance. Maybe I learned something hanging around the gym and could have knocked him flat with one hand tied behind my back. Can I get to work now?”

    Ray snorts a laugh. “If Rampage stepped in, then the guy was no good.”

    “Maybe I like the no-good guys.”

    “Yeah. Picked that up when you walked in here with a busted-up face after a night out with Vetch Retch. Not going to let it happen again. Rampage feels the same.”

    My next sip of coffee scalds my tongue, and I try to not choke on the burning liquid. “How do you know how he feels?”

    “I know.”

    I heave an exasperated sigh. “Well then, why does he care? He’s a big sports star now, a pro fighter. I’m sure he has other things to think about than Penny the legal assistant who drags her ass to Redemption three times a week for a workout so she can enjoy the occasional piece of cake, or three.”

    Ray crosses his feet and leans back on the couch. “We got each other’s backs at Redemption. Everyone cares.”

    Everyone. Disappointment worms its way into my chest, and I quickly change the subject before I give myself away. “Shoes.” I point to his feet, and he swings his feet down with an irritated groan.

    “They’re clean.”

    “They’re on your feet, so they’re not clean.” I take another sip of coffee, and the cobwebs start to clear from my head. “Although Amanda tolerates your bad behavior at the office, I have a feeling Sia might have something to say about it. And, if this was my office, your feet would be staying on the floor.”