Page 76 of Brick

“I know.” The kid sounded dejected. “I’d rather keep my distance than be disappointed, you know? If he doesn’t have a chance to reject me, I can keep the dream alive.”

A month ago, he would have never even imagined he could be with a woman like Olivia. “You never know what life can bring. I can tell you this, though, if you want something, you have to reach out and take it. You deserve to be happy, Robby.”

A blush crept up Robby’s neck. “Thanks, Brick. You’re a better big brother than my real one ever was.”

He had never had a little brother, but with Robby, he was getting an idea of what it might be like. “Any time.”

Kane finally looked up when Robby walked away. “He’s got a thing for Matt? Baby-mama-drama-every-other-week Matt York?”

“C’mon, you know as well as anyone we can’t help who we want.” The heat in Kane’s WTF expression could melt the paint off the walls, if the house actually had walls, but Brick shrugged it off. “You think I didn’t notice whatever was between you and the boss lady the other day?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, brother.” Kane issued a warning with his voice.

“I’m not trying to bust your balls, man. Really. I didn’t go out looking to fall for Will’s sister either.” Holy shit. He’d said it out loud, but it was too late to back out now. “That’s my whole point. Maybe we give into it and maybe we don’t, but we don’t get to choose who we fall for. It just is.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s good for us,” Kane grunted. “The kid’s probably in for a world of hurt.”

He slapped his friend on the back. “Probably. Or maybe he and Matt will end up friends. I’m starting to learn they’re kind of nice to have around.”

Together, they lifted the wood into place and secured it.

By the end of the day, the additional framing was complete. They walked together toward the area where they had both parked.

Kane paused to fasten his helmet. “I’m thinking you might make a pretty decent drinking buddy, man. Come have a beer with me tomorrow night.”

It surprised him how much he wanted to say yes. Kane had really grown on him in the past few weeks. It might be nice to hang out, like regular people did. “I wish I could, but I’ve got a fight tomorrow night.”

“I heard you fight. I’d love to see a match. Would it be cool for me to come check it out?”

It had never even occurred to him anyone outside of Sucre’s orbit would even be interested. “Sure.” He rattled off the address of the gym. “The matches start at ten. I’m usually at the end, though.”

“This is going to be awesome, brother. I’ll see you then.” He climbed on his bike.

“Hey—aren’t you working tomorrow?”

“Nah. I’ve got club business. I’ve already cleared it with Xander.” He grabbed the clutch and pushed the ignition button, bringing the engine to life. “Gotta make a run with my guys, but I’ll be back in time for your fight.” He grinned widely before taking off down the street.

***

The gym was packed Friday night even tighter than usual. Brick scanned the crowd for Kane’s face, but too many bodies kept him from seeing clearly. It didn’t really matter if the guy made it there or not. The fight would go the same, either way.

Sucre had paid him a visit while he warmed up in the little office which belonged to Freddy, the old guy who ran the place. Sucre didn’t tell him to lose, but he did want him to take a beating. It was an instruction he didn’t get often, but sometimes, Sucre liked to bet against the odds to make a little extra cash. What most people didn’t realize—or at least they didn’t talk about—was the fact that the boss controlled the outcome of every bout he fought in.

Tonight, he would let Antonio Reyes beat the crap out of him for at least twenty-two minutes before he took the guy down. His stomach turned even thinking about it. Reyes had a reputation as a solid fighter. This was going to hurt.

The big digital clock above the ring showed five after midnight when the ref called him up. By then the place reeked from the press of unwashed bodies and booze. Almost everyone watching was either buzzed or blitzed, and they roared when he entered the ring. The cheers didn’t fool him. They wanted to see him bleed, and they were about to get their wish.

Reyes faced him with clear eyes and cool composure. When the bell rang, the guy led off with a powerful punch, leaving him gasping for breath. He had to fight back or he wouldn’t make it two minutes, much less twenty-two. He planned to volley a blow for a blow but save his hardest hits for the end.

The strategy sucked balls.

In the first five minutes, Reyes clocked him in the eye, and blood trickled down with the sweat threatening his vision. A minute after that, the guy punched him in the ear, leaving a tinny ring in his wake. By the fifteen-minute mark, his body ached, and his head was swimming. If he didn’t start hitting hard soon, he wouldn’t be able to at all.

He threw all his weight into a blow to the ribs, sending Reyes hunched to his side. He followed it up with an elbow to the nose, gushing blood from his opponent’s nostrils. A quick glance at the clock showed him he still needed to kill five more minutes. But how?

The crowd had grown rabid, roaring with each punch—even the weak ones both fighters threw now. He’d busted up his hands so completely, it hurt as much to hit Reyes as it did to take a hit. He could barely make a fist, so he started hitting with the heel of his hand.

Two more minutes.

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