Holding Strong

“But now we wanna reunite,” Gene added with a tobacco-stained leer.

Hoping to get the truth, Denver fought to moderate his tone. “How did you know she’d be here, at the fights?”

Carver shrugged. “Knew she was a fight fan, knew she lived in these parts.” He folded his arms over his chest, putting muscular arms on display. “Just figured.”

He didn’t want to, but to be fair, Denver made an offer. “Give me a number where she can reach you, and I’ll make sure she gets it.”

“No good,” Gene told him. “She won’t call.”

More so than the others, Denver wanted to knock Gene on his ass, make him choke on his chew.

It seemed Carver attempted diplomacy, and Mitty was too stupid to do more than mutter incomplete sentences. He figured Carver for the leader, Mitty for the muscle when necessary.

But Gene had no problem inciting his rage. Denver would love to unleash it on him and a blade wouldn’t make any difference at all.

Instead, knowing it’d bug the man, he directed his answer to Carver. “Then I guess you’re out of luck, aren’t you?”

After giving both of his brothers a quelling scowl, Carver stepped in front of them. “There’s been a death in the family.”

“Who?”

“Our pops.”

If they were related, would Cherry be devastated? It wasn’t something he could keep from her. “Sorry to hear it. I’ll let her know.” Anxious to get back to her, he said, “So you want to give me a number or not?”

“Yeah, sure.” Carver patted his pockets with theatric flair. “Damn. Ain’t got a pen or paper on me.”

“I guess a business card is out?”

“Left mine at home,” Carver joked.

“Go into the hotel and tell the front desk that you want to leave me a message. Ask them to hold it for Denver Lewis. I’ll pick it up before checking out.”

“Yeah? When is that exactly?”

Denver laughed, but he didn’t feel even a smidge of humor. Carver tried to be slick and failed miserably. “I don’t know yet, but you’d be smart not to be there when I do.” He was just about to walk away when he felt the approach of someone behind him. He didn’t take his attention off the brothers, but he did go more alert.

Until he heard, “Need a hand?”

Relaxing again, he turned to see Dean Connor, better known as Havoc, standing a few feet away, arms folded, expression amused.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

“I’ll just wait, then.”

Because he wanted to discuss Armie. Shit, shit, shit. Denver didn’t have time for this. He wanted to get back to Cherry.

Damn Armie for being so stubborn.

No way would he disrespect Dean, so he said, “Suit yourself.”

“Always do.”

Facing the brothers again, Denver pointed at Carver. “Don’t bother her. That’s the only warning you’ll get. Do we understand each other?”

In no way intimidated, Carver gave a slight nod. “Yeah, I think we do.”

That Carver tried to say it like a warning didn’t bother Denver at all. He walked toward Dean and the three yahoos went in the other direction. If they weren’t as dumb as they looked, they’d keep walking.

“Friends of yours?” Dean asked when he joined him.

Shaking his head, Denver said, “They’re nobody.”

“Funny. That’s the same thing Armie told me last night.”

“Maybe because it’s true.”

“Or more likely, you consider it none of my business.” When Denver would have backtracked, Dean held up a hand. “Whoever they are, I think you put the fear of God in them. Glad we already have you signed with the SBC.”

“Like dealing with street punks would prove anything?”

Dean shrugged. “You handled yourself well and you kept your cool.” And then, with an amused smile, “At least better than Armie did last night.”

He’d met Dean a few times, but he wouldn’t say they were friends. More like acquaintances. Being newer to the SBC, Denver always appreciated the time Dean, who was a legend, gave to him.

Except for now.

“Armie has plenty of control when he needs it.” Because Armie didn’t always show that control, Denver added, “Like when he fights.”

“Agreed.” Dean fell into step beside him. “You’re in a hurry?”

“I don’t mean to be rude—”

“No problem. I’ll walk with you.”

With no way around it, Denver said, “Sure.”

They stepped through the hotel doors. “Actually, I wanted to talk about Armie.”

Already shaking his head, Denver said, “Not my business.”

“I get that. No pressure. Just pass along a message for me, will you?”

The two women were still there, anxiously watching for Denver. “Hang on.” He went over to them, apologizing as he approached. “Sorry. That took longer than I thought it would.”

The blonde beamed at him. “It’s okay.”

He picked up his bags of food and drinks. “Where’re you both headed? The airport?”