Page 110 of Gloves Off

“She was mad.” My gut twists, thinking of the way she looked at me this morning, so hurt and shocked. “Really mad.”

I hurt her. Pain writhes in my chest and I blow out a heavy breath. Fuck.

Owens gives me a wary look. “How didyoureact?”

My eyes close. “I told her she should be grateful and that most women would kill to be in her position.”

When I open my eyes, they’re both staring at me with wide eyes.

Owens lets out a sharp laugh. “Well, it was really nice knowing you, Volkov.”

I make a frustrated noise. “Probably not the best thing to say.”

I was actually starting to like you. I don’t know which stabs harder, that or her hurt expression which I keep replaying.

Even with Emma, I never felt like this. “I need to fix this.”

Miller skates over with his arms out in awhat gives?gesture. “What, is this the golf course or something? Let’s play.”

“Volkov needs help,” Owens says.

“He got rid of Georgia’s car without asking her,” Walker explains, and I wish they’d stop repeating it, because it sounds worse every time I hear it.

How could I think that was okay?This isexactlythe kind of thing Liam would do. Who the hell is Liam? Nausea and frustration rolls through me. I don’t even know what he did, but Ihatebeing in the same group as that guy.

Miller whistles. “Bad boy, Volkov. I’m shocked you’re even standing right now. Hazel would have my balls for that.”

“She already has your balls,” Owens says.

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Yeah, she does.” He sobers and points to me. “Fix this.”

“I want to.” I exhale a hard breath. “I don’t know how,” I admit. “I need to get that car back.”

“At least.” Miller turns to Streicher in net and waves him over. “Practice is over. Volkov needs our help.”

CHAPTER 53

GEORGIA

When my ridedrops me off in front of the house late that evening, my old junker car sits under the streetlight, clear as day.

Compared to the new car in the garage this morning, my old car looks laughably shitty. It could be part of the set in an apocalypse movie. It’s sitting on a flatbed, like a truck hauled it here, and the wheels are gone already. One of the windows is smashed, and the passenger door looks dented, but maybe that was there before? It’s concerning that I can’t be sure. The driver-side door’s unlocked, but the bracelets that used to hang on the rearview mirror are gone, and when I pop the hood?—

Yep. The engine’s gone. I stand there with my hand on my hip, thinking about the flowers he sent to my office today.

Hyacinth—I’m sorry, forgive me,your loveliness charms me.

I overreacted this morning. I’ve been replaying it all day. My emotions got the best of me.

He didn’t ask me, though. I didn’t matter, and I thought I did.

The lights are on inside the house, and he’s sitting in the front room when I step inside. Upon seeing me, he stands.

“Georgia.” He clears his throat and glances out the front windows. “You saw the car?”

“Yes.”

“Here.” He steps forward, holding his hand out. The friendship bracelets sit in his palm, and something in my chest squeezes.

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