Fighter(3)

Jaxon hadn’t knelt to look at my ankle. He was staring right at my bright orange thong underwear.

“Stop.” I groaned. Bending down so my forehead pressed to my leg, I thought maybe he’d go away.

His low, smooth chuckle rippled over me, sending old sensations and tingles through me too. He stood and came closer. Stopping so he was out of reach, he asked, “No radio, huh?”

I snarled at him, “Go away.”

“You’re supposed to trick me into getting close. Then you put those handcuffs on me. Remember?” He nudged my leg with his foot. It was a gentle touch, but I gasped. This hurt.

He bent down so he could actually look at my ankle this time. “That’s how we used to have fun, remember? Hmmm…it doesn’t look broken. Ice it and you’ll be fine by tonight.”

“What’d you do, anyways?”

His light, flirty look disappeared. He grew serious and stepped away again. “I can’t tell you that, my little Doily.”

I hated that name.

“And since you’re not going to die, I’m going to complete my escape now.”

“Jaxon.” I looked at him, pleading now. “You can’t leave me like this. Carry me back. They’re probably still searching that house. They won’t even think to come look for me.”

He shrugged. “That’s your problem. And they’ll look for you.”

At that second, we heard shouts behind us, and a wide grin came over his face. “See? You’re the baby girl. They’ll always look out for you.”

“Jaxon, for real. What’d you do? I can help you.” I needed to stall. Shoving the pain down and out of my mind, I focused on him. Bringing him in would prevent a lot of the teasing I knew I was otherwise going to endure. Come closer, a little closer. I started to wedge out my handcuffs from my waist and opened them. One quick flick of my wrist and I might be able to get them on his foot. Maybe. Using my fingers, and holding my arm in place to shield them, I started to slide the handcuffs wider.

He laughed. “I don’t think so, sweet cheeks. Listen, I’ll turn myself in after this weekend. I promise.”

“Why not now? What’s so important—” But even as I spoke, I knew. “Oh no.”

He’d been watching me. As I connected the dots, his smirk grew. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“You’re fighting again?”

“I gotta make money somehow. I’m in the Boxing Day match this weekend.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes. “We’re not in Canada. We don’t have Boxing Day.”

He laughed, his top lip curved up in an adorable way, and began walking backward. He lifted a hand to wave. “Still. I’ll see you this weekend. I’ll even come to your bedroom so you can get the jump. How’s that?”

He had a wicked glint in his eyes, but I knew he would follow through as promised. I also knew that meant we wouldn’t be catching him until then. He was going underground, and we might not be able to find him until he was ready to be found.

“Dale!”

Dylan’s voice came from back down the path. I looked over my shoulder, but he wasn’t within view yet. “I’m here!” I yelled.

When I turned back, Jaxon was gone.

Chapter Two

I sat on the couch with six bags of ice all around my ankle. I only needed one, but nope, my brothers thought it was hilarious to make the pile as high as it could be. Dylan wanted to see if he could get it all the way to the ceiling, but Dean yelled at him for using too many ice packs. However, when I tried removing them, they just laughed and brought them back. I’d managed to wedge a blanket between some of the ice packs so there was only one actually on my ankle. I used the other ice packs to hide the blanket, so it was a win-win. My brothers kept laughing at me, my leg stuck under a house of ice bags, but I was secretly laughing at them.

Dumb shits.

It was either this or be harassed because I went into the field without a radio. Really. I knew better. The only one who was actually angry at me was Dean, but he was pissed because I hadn’t used my feminine wiles on Jaxon. But hello? It’s Jaxon. He’s not exactly dumb—not like my brothers.

That evening around nine, someone shouted, and four of my brothers sprinted past the door to the back of the house. When I heard the office door slam shut and car doors open, I pushed myself upright.

Dylan sprinted past, or tried to. He held a coffee cup, so he could only jog or it would spill.

“Hey!” I yelled.

He jerked, and the coffee spilled on his arm. He turned to me with a scowl. “What the eff, Dale? I have coffee here.”

“I have a question here.”

He growled at me and looked around. When evidently he didn’t see what he wanted, he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe off some of the coffee. “Yeah? What do you want? You got me while I clean up. Then I’m out of here.”

“Where’s everyone going?”

“Oh.” The growl left him, and he started laughing. “You were had, little sister.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“The Boxing Day fight. Your boy lied to you.”

“He’s not my boy, and how do you know?” I wasn’t surprised to hear Jaxon had lied. That was another factor in our breakup.