Page 15 of Heart Sick Hate

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out.

“Not at the table, Crew.” Dad leans back, narrowing his gaze at me.

He forgets I’m a grown man sometimes and that I show up here by choice. And every time he speaks to me like achild, I’m tempted to burn his house down so there’s no obligation to come back.

“God forbid we ruin this holy dinner.” I chuckle. “Have fun planning the wedding of the century. I need to take a call.”

Echo frowns, and it shouldn’t please me how much I annoy her. But I feed on her hate—her disapproval. And when she clenches her teeth around her gum as I smirk at her, it lights me the fuck up.

“Baby.” Rhett nudges Echo’s shoulder. “You haven’t touched your steak.”

“She doesn’t eat red meat.”

Fucking idiot.

I swear, I’m the only one paying attention.

Standing up, I hit answer before pushing my chair in to really piss off Dad. Giving him a final “fuck you” glance before walking into the other room.

“Yeah?” I answer.

Paul is out of breath on the other end of the line. He always sounds like he’s running a marathon from the amount of stress he puts on himself.

“Axel bailed.” He sounds frantic when it’s nothing to worry about. “And Brea is causing shit with the girls again. Now they’re asking for seven-fifty each.”

“Then give them seven-fifty.” I’m not sure why I have Paul running logistics for these fights when he defers to me on everything. “We make enough that it’s not an issue.”

The perk of running an illegal underground fight ring filled with politicians and cops is there’s plenty of money no one wants to actually account for.

“If we give ‘em this, they’ll just want more in a few months.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and am reminded it’s still throbbing from Echo’s punch. Girl can throw one, and I deserved it, so I didn’t bother flinching or trying to stop her.

“Then we’ll give ‘em more in a few months. Would you rather the girls bail?”

Paul can be such a fucking idiot. I’d fire him, but then I’d have to be the face for management, and I don’t want anyone knowing who really runs these fight nights.

Jude might think he’s the one who introduced me and Sage to the fighting ring, but he only found out about it because I accidentally left the website up at the shop one time, and he saw it. Now I have to be careful when they’re there, pretending to be any other fighter like them. The last thing I need is for anyone to know my business. Even my friends.

“If the girls bail, the guys will be pissed,” Paul says.

Now he’s getting it.

I don’t give a shit how much money the ring girls want when we’ve got more than enough to cover it. Nothing mixes with blood like sex, so if we want the guys to keep opening their wallets, we need them happy.

“And what about Axel?” Paul asks, reminding me we’re short a fighter tonight.

“I’ll cover it.” It’s as good of an excuse as any.

“Alright, boss,” Paul says, shuffling papers in the background. “See you soon then.”

I hang up and freeze when I realize what room I’ve stepped into. To most people, it would seem like any other—unused and overly decorated. The large mantle in the center of the far wall is lined with photographs that haven’t changed in years.

A room my father might as well have walled off after what happened. No one comes in here.

Not since we found her.

My gaze drops to the floor, and I swear I still see the pool of blood on the wood, even if it's no longer there.

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