Page 2 of Rematch
From the corner of my eye, I saw Wesley’s lips pull into a dramatic frown and mouth my threat with a mocking bob of his head.
The subtle disrespect was more than enough to piss me off.
Without thinking twice, I abandoned my bag on the counter, grabbed him by his neck and slammed his smug face into the opposite side of the doorway.
His face smacked against the plaster with a loud “crack” and a howl of pain. As his head jutted back from the impact, a stream of blood flooded down his face. His free hand came up to cup his injured nose. “Hey, man, what the fuck!” He yelled.
I ignored him and went back to my bag. The dumbass knew what he did to deserve that. “Finish your rounds, find Tysir, andmeet me outside in ten minutes,” I told him as I threw the duffel over my shoulder.
“What about my nose?” He hissed. “I think you broke that shit.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t break anything else.” As I passed him, I shoved him towards the sinks. “Clean it, ice it, and you’ll be alright.”
Wesley groaned. “How am I supposed to threaten people who can’t back up their bet looking likethis?”
“Easy: tell them to cough up the money or their face will look worse.”
I could feel Wesley’s glaring eyes bore into my back as I continued on my way down the hall. Honestly, I couldn’t care less about what he, or any of the other henchmen my father assigned, thought. Most of them were idiotic and disposable. Rarely did any of them make it any higher up the hierarchy without a bullet in their heads.
The only reason my father kept assigning them to me was to teach me a lesson. The more morons I whipped into shape, the better leader I’d become. Or at least that’s what he says. Sometimes I think it’s more of a punishment for waiting so long to take my place to begin with.
I pulled my hood up over my head to shield my face. It’d be easier to blend into the crowd that way. Usually I stick around to sign autographs, take pictures, and talk to the press while my men collect from the gamblers who put money up against me. I’ve been on a winning streak for a while now, but there were always a good amount of people hoping I’d slip up and hit a big pay day. Instead, they were always stuck with a fat ass bill and a threat on their lives if they didn’t pay it.
There were three things my father didn’t play about: his respect, his product, and his money. Those who dared to play with any of that always ended up six feet under.
I kept my head down as I came out into the lobby of the stadium. The venue for tonight’s exhibition match wasn’t as large as some of the other fights I’ve been in, making it perfect for the mission I was on.
I lifted my head just enough to peek out from underneath my hood and scanned the teeming crowd for the woman I’d seen earlier. It was strange, seeing her sitting so far away. She used to sit in the front row. Close enough that I could grab her and kiss her after a win. With her sitting in the back, it felt like she was a million miles away. I couldn’t -wouldn’t- let her drift that far away again.
My stomach twisted as I looked toward one of the exits and wondered if she might’ve left already. I had some idea of where I could find her, but what if she wasn’t there? Was her number the same? If I called it, would she answer? Or would she send me straight to voicemail like she’s done so many times before?
Sighing, I looked in the opposite direction towards the restrooms and merchandise stands. My heart skipped a beat as I spotted her.
Like earlier, she stood under what seemed like a spotlight, illuminating the glow of her caramel brown skin and the sparkle in her amber eyes. She was leaning against one of the walls near the restroom, quietly watching the other patrons mill around the room as she sipped on a slushie.
My feet pulled me towards her without hesitation. I weaved between the crowds, enduring unintentional bumps and nudges, to reach her. I didn’t let her out of my sight, afraid she’d disappear again.
As I came closer, I admired the enhancements time had given her. Her mane of thick, curly hair was longer, falling well over her shoulders to the small of her back. Her jeans hugged her wide hips and outlined every inch of her thick thighs. Beneath her open jacket, I could see the glimmer of a belly buttonpiercing, exposed by her cropped top, that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen her. Even after all these years, she was still the woman of my dreams.
She wasn’t looking in my direction when I finally reached her. Her eyes were focused on the opposite side of the room, staring aimlessly.
“Hey, Audrey,” I said.
She jolted out of her trance at the sound of my voice. Her eyes darted to me, and her brows turned upward in confusion. She stared at me for a moment, giving her brain a moment to process who she was looking at. “Max?” She asked. Although full of uncertainty, it was still music to my ears.
I smiled. “Damn, it hasn’t beenthatlong, has it?”
“No,” she replied quickly. “It’s just… You look… I mean…” She stumbled over her words.
I chuckled. “It’s the hair, I know. It’s a lot shorter now.”
A smile finally graced her lips. “A lot is an understatement. Your curly top was your signature look.” Her free hand rose from her side, but stopped midway and settled on the other side of her cup. “But, this looks good too.”
”Youlook good,” I replied, raking my eyes over her body again. I took a few steps closer, hovering over her. I was too close, I knew that, but I didn’t care. The familiar scent of her favorite floral perfume and the blush budding underneath her cheeks was too good to pass up.
“Thank you,” she murmured. She glanced away for a second, trying to hide the nervous curl of her shoulders. “Congratulations on your win tonight.”
“Thanks. Do you wanna celebrate with me? There’s a lounge a few blocks up the street. We could grab a few drinks and catch up.”
