Page 130 of The Good Girl

“Come on in. The problem with the other club isn’t such a big issue anymore,” I tell him, not giving anything away. “Midas, this is Ambros, Ambros, Midas. Ambros is the UFC champion Nevaeh met on the plane to the UK. He was at the bookstore shootout with his sister.”

“Ah, shit, man. Sorry you got caught up in that. Is your sister okay?” Midas shakes his hand.

“She’s pissed someone tried to shoot her favorite author. I swear I don’t understand women at all.”

Midas snickers. “That makes two of us.”

“What brings you out here anyway?”

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Two things, actually, if you’ve got time.”

“Just finished up a meeting, and Nevaeh’s not here, so yeah, I’ve got time.” I indicate for him to walk with us. We pass through the warehouse and head up the slope to the saloon.

“This place is cool as fuck.”

“We get that a lot.”

“I bet.”

“Is what you have to say private, or can Midas stick around?”

“No, that’s fine. Look, I’m not sure how much you follow Nevaeh online, but there is a group of people that, since the shooting, have taken things to the extreme. I’ve noticed most of its contained to her personal page, but its spilled over onto her Celeste one and even mine. People are tagging me to see my reactions. Mostly I ignore the trolls, but some of the shit they’re saying is setting off every fucking instinct I have.”

I sigh. “I know. I have my VP, who happens to be my tech guy, on it. I don’t know if they’re a threat or just a bunch of chickenshit trolls, but Nevaeh hasn’t been alone since the shootout, much to her annoyance.”

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t sure if it was connected to the shootout. And honestly, I didn’t know how hip bikers were with social media, so I took a chance that you’d listen.”

“Why did you come here, really? I’m not doubting the reason you came. I just think there’s more to it.”

He’s quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “The day I met Nevaeh, she treated me like a regular person. She had no clue who I was, and when she did, it made no difference to her.”

“Sounds like my old lady.”

“I’ve spent a lot of time around people. You live and work in the public eye, and there is no avoiding it, but none of them cared about anything beyond what I could do for them. The only person I trust one hundred percent is my sister, and she’s dying.”

I stop for a second and look at him. His face is drawn and tired looking, the kind of tiredness that has nothing to do with a lack of sleep and everything to do with life wearing you down.

“The bullet?—”

“Really did only graze her arm. It’s not that. My sister has acute lymphoblastic leukemia. She went into remission, and we thought she’d beaten it, but then she got sick again last year. Not that you’d know to look at her. She’s refused any moretreatment. She’s made peace with her death, but I’m not there yet. I don’t think I ever will be.”

He rubs a hand over his face. I look at Midas and nod for him to leave us for a moment. I start walking again, knowing Ambros will follow me.

“How long?” I ask him gently.

“Docs say around three months. I retired from fighting so I could spend as much time with her as possible. Fighting all seems so pointless now anyway.”

I get it. Why fight when you have nothing left to fight for?

“When she’s gone—” He coughs and starts again. “Dad died in a boating accident when we were kids. Mom got COVID and died during the height of the pandemic.”

I get it now. Like a lot of brothers here, he’ll have no one left. Being cast adrift can do strange things to a man. Grief doesn’t care how strong you are. It cripples gods and mortals alike.

“I came to see if you needed more prospects.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. But maybe hang around for a while and see if it’s really what you want. Once you’re in, you don’t get to back out because you’ve changed your mind.”

“I know. I just need something to keep going for.”

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