Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(88)

Fleur and Olivier chuckle at my side.

“Thanks, Vanessa. I appreciate you bringing that up.”

She smiles and jerks her head toward the main training room. “Head on back. They’re expecting you.”

I thank her and move with Fleur still welded to my arm.

She leans in close. “Who’s expecting us? Oh my God, is it The Assassin?” Fleur’s grip on me tightens to the point that my hand starts to go numb. “Because I will die if—Holy Mary, Mother of…”

We step into the main training center, which is at least triple the size of the one in London. Her and Ollie’s gazes swing from one end of the room to the other, jaws hanging open.

“There’s The Fade.” Ollie points discreetly to the heavy bags where Wade is working with a fighter I’ve never seen before.

It seems like there are a lot of faces I haven’t seen before. “There’s Rex.”

We head over to the mats where Rex is working with a flyweight. We stand back until he spots us and grins. “There he is.” He says something to the guy he’s working with then crosses to us with a smile on his face. “Quick Kill McCreery.” He shakes my hand and pulls me in for a back-slapping hug. “Welcome home, brother.” He swings his gaze to Fleur and Ollie, greeting them with handshakes. “Happy you guys could make it.”

“This place is amazing.” Ollie studies the poster-sized photos on the walls, each depicting a different fighter, both past and present.

Fleur remains tight-lipped, her anxieties seeming to get the best of her.

“Is Caleb here?”

“Yeah, I think he’s in Cam’s office, planning for your future, world domination, shit like that.” He slaps me on the shoulder. “Make yourself at home; give your friends the tour.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Fleur has let up her grip on my arm a little, but as soon as we start making our way to the stairs that lead to Cam’s office, she tenses up again.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…”

“What?” I follow the line of her sight and see why she’s freaking out. My lips break into a smile so big my jaw aches.

“Fuck, here she goes; she’s going to go off on one,” Ollie mutters and drops his eyes to the floor.

The second Jonah spots me his face breaks into a grin that pops both dimples and shows all his teeth. He shakes his head and moves toward us.

“He’s coming! He’s walking over here. Oh my God!” Fleur presses her body so tightly to mine I’m surprised she doesn’t wrap herself around my waist.

“Fuckin’ A.” Jonah opens his arms wide and swallows both me and Fleur, since she’s become a permanent fixture on me, in a hug. “Killer, man…so f*cking proud of you, brother.”

I wish I could say I took his compliment like a man, but tears burn behind my eyes, and it’s all I can do to say thanks without bursting into tears like a *.

He pulls back and sizes me up. “I knew you had what it took.”

I shrug one shoulder, feeling suddenly shy and vulnerable, something I haven’t felt since I stepped out of the octagon after my first fight. “You gave me the chance. I owe you for that.”

“Nah, you worked your ass off. You earned your chance.” His eyes track to Fleur, who’s staring up at him in wonder and adoration. “You wanna introduce me to your friends?”

I blink and shake myself from the daze of his approval. “Yes, Jonah, this is Fleur and her brother—”

“Assassin, I’m a huge fan. I’ve been obsessed with you since your first fight, and your career has inspired me”—she catches a shaky breath—“so much.”

Jonah holds out his hand to shake hers. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

She stares at his hand with wide eyes, and then finally all the blood rushes back to my arm after she releases me. I expect her to shake Jonah’s hand, but Ollie groans when she engulfs his entire forearm in her hands and stares at it.

“Fuckin hell, Fleur.” Ollie studies the ceiling as if he’s looking for patience that’s been stored there.

“Your arm is so much bigger in real life,” she whispers. “And your tattoos…”

I laugh, and when Ollie glares at me, I cover my mouth.

“Um…thank you?” Jonah looks at me and shrugs.

“She’s a huge fan.” I cough on a laugh.

He smiles down at her uncomfortably then pries her hands off him. “How about an autographed UFL shirt.”

She gasps and looks up at him. “Yes, please, who me? Of course I want that.”

He jerks his head toward the locker room. “Give me a minute. I’ll go grab one.”

“Thank you.” She reaches for him again, to shake his hand maybe, but he jerks back in time to avoid it and heads to the locker room. “Assassin, it will be one of yours, right?” She calls to him, but he continues his path. “A dirty one is totally fine!”

“Oh, come on, Fleur!” Ollie groans.

She cups her mouth to be heard over the distance. “Seriously, though! If it’s dirty, that’s fine with me. I’d much rather prefer—”

“Fleur, shut up!” Ollie silences her with a hand over her mouth. “I told you not to embarrass me.”