She turns around and laughs when she sees me. “I think it’s more the element of surprise that I’m drawn to.”

“Surprise?”

She shuts the box and almost skips over to me. “Yeah. It’s more the not knowing if something’s going to be there and then one day...surprise!”

With a chuckle, I open the door for us and step out into the fresh air. She squints, trying to block out the sun as she looks up at me.

“Funny,” I tell her, trying to hide my smile. “The only things I get are bills and credit card applications.”

“I can’t wait,” she says, grinning from ear to ear. “You want to go for a walk or something?”

I pull out my phone and check the time. There’s only a half hour until I have to meet DeLuca. Dammit. “I can’t. I have to meet someone.”

Her smile quickly turns to a frown. “Well, are you walking, because maybe I could walk with you?”

“It’s kind of personal.”

“Oh.” Swear it—she looks as disappointed as I feel. “A girl?”

“No,” I say, pushing down the excitement at her reaction. “Not a girl. I promise.”

“Okay then...I guess I’ll see you later, Ky.”

She goes back inside, not giving me time to reply.

***

DeLuca’s already at O’Malley’s, sitting at the bar, beer in one hand and phone in the other.

I pass Tiny, who’s sitting at the end of the bar, and silently take the seat next to DeLuca.

He looks up, startled, and then quickly drops the phone on the bar—face down. He chugs the rest of his beer, then nods his head to the door a few feet away. “Let’s go.”

Not surprisingly, he leads me down to the basement. “What do you think?” he asks.

“About what?”

“The venue?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

His eyes widen slightly, as if surprised by my tone. If he’s waiting for me to apologize, he’ll be waiting a long-ass time. Finally, he speaks, “Your debut fight. Here. One month. One of my fighters got injured. You think you’re up for it?”

“I don’t care where I fight. I just want to fight.”

“Good.” He starts to climb back up the stairs. “Keep your phone on you at all times.” He stops at the top step and turns to me. “You want to fight? You do what I say when I say it. You’re in my world now, soldier.”

I force an agreeable nod.

He returns it before leaving through the same door we came in from.

I stand in the middle of the basement, waiting to see if he’s coming back. When enough time has passed and I assume he’s left, I walk around the room. The only other door leads to a hallway. At the end of the hall are two doors, opposite each other. I make my way over and open the one on my left. The room’s empty,. just like the one on my right. I pull out my phone—

“What the fuck are you doing?” DeLuca clips.

He stands in the doorway with his arms crossed over his faded grey shirt, his biceps flexing against the sleeves. His head tilts to the side; his eyes narrowed, waiting for me to answer.

“So?” he says.

He’s trying to be intimidating.

It almost works.

I match his stance. “Just checking things out.”

We stand; eyes locked, waiting for the other to break first.

He visibly swallows.

I raise my chin.

“Right,” he finally says, his gaze shifting to the basement stairs. He starts to back away and slowly shakes his head—the movement so slight I almost don’t notice.

But I do.

Just like I notice the nine-millimeter hidden in his waistband.

***

After snapping a few pictures on my phone, I send them to Jackson. He calls when I’m a block away from my building. “I have no idea what you just sent me,” he says.

I check behind me to make sure I’m not being followed. I fucked up—dropped the ball—and DeLuca has every right to start being suspicious.

Ducking my head and keeping my voice low, I tell him, “It’s the basement of O’Malley’s. That’s where I’ll be fighting in a month...Dude,”—I lower my voice again—”DeLuca’s packing heat. Should I be surprised?”

“Are you surprised or are you worried? Because if you’re worried, let me know right now and I’ll end this.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I was just asking.”

He sighs. “I don’t know, man. The guy’s a complete mystery, wrapped in an enigma, covered in suspicion. We tail him for days and nothing. He’s home, at a bar, or at the gym. Nothing else. What he does and whom he meets? No one knows.” He pauses for a moment. “The guy has to be wicked smart to cover all his tracks. It just doesn’t make sense.”

I shake my head and push open the door to my building. “You know I’m in this, Jax, but maybe we need to sit down and discuss what I should be...” My words die in the air when I see Madison—or at least the back of her. She’s changed into tiny denim cutoffs and a tight tank. I wouldn’t have recognized her if not for the fact she was searching through her damn mailbox again.

“Ky?” Jax says.

“Hang on,” I tell him, then cover the phone with my hand. I raise my voice so Madison can hear me. “I'm getting a little jealous of all the attention that mailbox is getting from you.”