Chapter 8
Losing myself in my work should’ve been enough to take my mind off my earlier encounter with Jackson, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
About the fact that he was concerned enough about me to knock on my door to see if I was okay.
About how when I did answer the door, he stood there practically naked.
To be fair, though, I wasn’t wearing much more than he was.
But he’d startled me when he’d knocked, and I hadn’t had the good sense to throw on a robe.
The justification was laughable. Who else did I think was on my doorstep?
“How are you, Sophie?” Elton asked as he walked past me, heading toward the ring where Jackson sparred with a new partner. Or at least, he was new to me, since I’d never seen him before.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
I was about to ask him the same when he shouted at Jackson to protect his right side. If I yelled after him now, I doubted he’d hear me, so I went about collecting the discarded towels and tossing them in a nearby basket.
The last two hours of my shift dragged, and every time I glanced toward the area Jackson occupied, he was focused on his training.
Not once did I catch him looking in my direction, and even though I hated to admit such a thing, disappointment swirled through me at the lack of attention.
The notion was utterly ridiculous. I internally rolled my eyes because of course he wasn’t looking at me.
He had a job to do, and he didn’t need to be distracted by anything, including me.
We worked together, sort of, and therefore getting involved would be a huge mistake.
Not that getting together would even be an option.
I didn’t know why I thought about him in that way.
Getting involved with anyone wasn’t in the cards for me, not for a long time.
I wasn’t even divorced yet, a situation I hoped would rectify itself soon.
The quicker I could put that chapter of my life behind me, the better. And safer.
Mitch was the type of man who was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it.
His position as a police officer in the Las Vegas Police Department only seemed to intensify his sense of superiority.
Law enforcement had their own code, their own rules, and their own way of covering up a situation they didn’t want to be made public.
I knew firsthand how the police force worked, having called them on two separate occasions.
A unit was dispatched to our home both times, but I was either told I overreacted or was assured they weren’t going to proceed, taking his word over mine.
And because I didn’t have any bruises to show them, they dismissed my claims of feeling unsafe.
The last call was four months before I packed up what I could and left.
I would’ve dwelled on my situation further but was distracted when a woman walked into the gym dressed almost identically to the woman who showed up the day Jackson mistakenly took me for a whore.
While that woman was blonde, this one was brunette, a bit taller, and with bigger breasts.
Hating that I remembered what the first one looked like enough to compare the two, I watched her stride toward the back room, where I had no doubt she’d wait for Jackson.
She’d obviously been here before if she knew where he conducted his business.
For the first time since I’d arrived today, Jackson turned to look at me as he hopped out of the ring, stopping for a moment before rushing off toward the woman.
He snatched her hand and dragged her from view.
The door slammed, rattling the frame along with my nerves, and I chastised myself for caring, for giving him a second thought.
For thinking about what they were doing back there, though I was fully aware.
"Sophie?”
I swiveled toward the sound of my name, surprised to see my sister walking toward me. Her pulled-in brows had me erasing the space between us in no time.
“What’s wrong? Is it Dad?”
“No, he’s fine.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Mitch showed up at the house this morning.”
“Oh.” A wave of nausea made my stomach flip.
“Yeah, and he wasn’t happy you weren’t there.”
“Did you tell him where I was?”
“Of course not.” Abby’s shoulders slumped. “But he’ll find out eventually. And he’s going to try and get you fired from here as well.” She glanced around the room before returning her attention to me.
I’d managed to secure a job at a jewelry store a few months back, but before I finished my first week, my soon-to-be ex told the manager I had a drug problem and would steal from them if they kept me on.
Unfortunately, since the manager didn’t know me well and had no knowledge that I’d never touched a drug in my life and that the only thing I’d ever stolen was a pack of gum when I was eight years old, he believed the lies.
Mitch’s badge no doubt sealed the deal. He wielded that damn scrap of metal like a weapon.
It was inevitable that he would find out I worked here and pull the same shit he had before.
I needed to talk to Lance to let him know what was going on.
Keeping my personal life private was no longer an option if I wanted to keep my job.
Plus, the apartment was a much-needed bonus, and I didn’t want to lose it.
Having a trained fighter living next door offered a sense of safety, but I’d never involve Jackson in my domestic issues for fear of risking his freedom or putting his career in jeopardy.
Besides, if I did, I could kiss this job goodbye.
Lance and Elton were loyal to Jackson, and they’d vote to get rid of me.
“What did he say?” My sister ignored my question, too focused on something behind me.
“Abby,” I said forcefully. Her gaze slowly veered back to me, but she was only partially engaged.
Before I could ask her again what Mitch had said, a booming yell echoed through the gym as the door from the back room swung open.
The brunette from earlier hurried across the room, clutching her top.
At first glance she looked like she’d been attacked, but as she passed, she appeared more irritated than frightened.
Did Jackson do something to upset her, or did he kick her out afterward, and she was offended?
“Scarlett!” Lance shouted, chasing after her.
“What the hell was that all about?” Abby asked, her interest now fully focused on the unfolding drama rather than our conversation.
“I have no idea.”
I had an inkling as to what might’ve happened, but I didn’t give away any information. I didn’t want her to have a negative opinion of Jackson or worry about me working here.
Why do I care about what she thinks of him? I barely knew the guy, and it wasn’t like our interactions had been pleasant. Except for earlier this morning, but I considered that encounter to be an exception.
Before I could steer the conversation back to why she’d come here, Jackson stormed back into the gym, clothed only in the shorts he’d worn in the ring.
He glanced in our direction, and even from this distance, I could see his anger in the flare of his nostrils and the clenching of his fists.
Once our eyes met, his gaze burned into me, and as much as I wanted to look away, I couldn’t.
I was too mesmerized by the flex of his corded muscles and the narrowing of his eyes, as if he warred with his internal thoughts.
“Fuck. Who. Is. That?” Abby took a step toward him, but I snatched her wrist to stop her. “Is that the MMA fighter?” She snapped her fingers repeatedly. “Yeah, his face is on those billboards along the strip.”
“That’s him. Jackson Crew.”
“He’s your client?” she asked, continuing to stare at him.
“About that…. He refused to give me the job, so now I’m overseeing the gym.”
“Wait. What?”
It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t mentioned the job change to my dad or my sister.
“Yeah. Long story.” My shoulders bounced in a lazy shrug. “Although, I guess it’s not as long as I thought.” I couldn’t stop my burst of laughter, which only made Jackson’s scowl deepen. I wanted to shout that I wasn’t laughing at him or whatever had made him so angry, but I kept quiet.
“He’s hot.”
“He’s all right,” I lied. I’d have to be blind not to notice how good-looking he was.
“All right? That man is gorgeous in every way possible.”
“He’s also an ass.”
“So what? No one said he had to talk.” Another wave of laughter escaped me at her bluntness. But then again, I shouldn’t have expected anything less from her. Shyness had never been part of her personality, a trait I was envious of.
Turning my back on Jackson, I firmly grasped Abby’s shoulders and positioned her to face me, and only me.
“Forget about him. I need to know what happened when Mitch came to the house this morning.” My palms started to sweat as a shiver ran down my spine, the anticipation of what she’d tell me making my heart pick up its pace.
I never kept it a secret from my ex that I moved back in with my dad and sister.
He’d been dropping by unannounced and calling me nonstop for months.
Then he’d suddenly stopped, but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe he’d given up on trying to get me to come back home.
My lawyer informed me last week that he’d be serving Mitch with divorce papers, and based on his visit to my dad’s house today, he’d received them.
I had no doubt there were countless voicemails waiting for me when I checked my phone, which was upstairs in my apartment.
“He demanded to see you, and when I told him you weren’t there, he was furious, ranting about how you’re still his wife and your place is with him.” She rolled her eyes. “Was he always this much of an ass?”
“Not in the beginning. But I can’t pinpoint when he changed. It was gradual.”
“Well, the important thing is that you’re away from him now. Onward and upward, I say.”
“You’ve never said that,” I teased, amused by her attempt to lighten the situation.
“And by upward, I mean you should climb that beast of a man.” She pulled me closer, glancing over my shoulder. “He’s still staring at you.”
I turned to look, and sure enough, Jackson was indeed staring at me. Our eyes only met for a moment before I averted my gaze once more.
“I’m not sure why he’s so angry with me,” I mused, more to myself than to Abby.
Before I could say anything else, I spotted Lance. He flashed me a lopsided grin before heading toward Jackson. From Lance’s rigid posture and the way he pointed at Jackson, it was clear he was reprimanding him for whatever happened in that back room moments earlier.