Page 62 of A Fighter’s Love

Tristan nodded slowly. “The boxing club?”

“Yes. And there’ll be other people there.” She paused. “People I can depend on, who will look out for me.”

Tristan glanced at the flowers.

“And make sure I’m okay, really okay,” she added.

“Good.” Tristan stood. He nodded at the flowers. “This guy, he’ll be there?”

Jenny pressed her lips together. To say ‘guys’ in the plural was on the tip of her tongue. Instead she nodded.

“A boxer?”

Again she nodded.

“That makes me feel better.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t be on your own with that ex of yours, will you? Promise me.”

“No. I won’t be.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

He set her a steely stare, the kind she was used to seeing from him. It made her realize she did indeed need to make sure she wasn’t alone with Billy. He’d made her uncomfortable a few times, perhaps been on the edge of hurting her. And now…now she really did need to keep from putting herself in a situation where he could cause her physical harm.

Surely he wouldn’t really hurt me.

She thought back to him as a teenager, a young smiling man. It wasn’t the Billy he was anymore, and she had to start seeing him the way Tristan had—a big, aggressive guy who liked having his own way and would go to any lengths to get it.

Tristan swung his gaze around the other desks causing people to return their attention to their screens, then pressed his hand on her shoulder, and headed back to his office.

Jenny blew out a breath and picked up the card that had come with the flowers. She re-read it.

D, J.

Dale and Jackson. Not one but two guys were in her corner. She’d be okay. How could she not be?”

And if she didn’t go to the club, there’d be no match. And this fight with Grinder was the reason Jackson had been training so hard for months. If it didn’t go ahead now, he’d be miserable. It would all have been for nothing.

So she had to go.

Chapter Fifteen

Jenny had time to go home and change before she went to the gym. She was glad of fresh jeans and t-shirt and quickly grabbed a ham sandwich.

When she arrived the gym was busy. The smell of sweat and hot bodies filled the air. The weights were all in use. Jackson was sparring with Dale in the ring. Michael skipped around them, snapping out instructions as they threw jabs high and low. Several guys hung on the ropes, watching, their expressions showing they were soaking up the action and enjoying the master class.

Behind the ring a huge poster had been hung on the wall. It was an image of Jackson, blown up to ten feet tall, and Grinder. Each were posed with their gloves forward, and their expressions mean. Between them, written in flame red, were their names and the date of the fight.

Not long now.

She tightened her bag and walked past the ring. A few guys nodded hello to her, but Jackson and Dale were engrossed in what they were doing.

Glad to get away from the beating music, she went into the office. Billy was sitting at the computer, scratching his head and looking thoroughly confused.

“Ah, I’m glad you’re here,” he said, glancing at her. “I can’t send this email. No fucking idea why.

She sighed. “What’s the problem?”

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