Chapter 6
SIX
Saniya.
“You never disappoint. You sure you don’t want to accept my offer?”
To work full-time for someone other than myself, not a chance in hell.
“I enjoy my freedom, Joe.”
I leaned back in my chair, swiping through the edited photos I’d sent Joe the night after the fight. That was three days ago and he was just getting back to me. The payment had already hit my account, so Joe’s opinions of the shots I sent over didn’t matter but I was still curious about what he thought. Hearing the excitement in his voice solidified what I already knew. I was a fucking beast with my camera.
“What makes you think you can’t be on staff here and still have freedom? It’s not like I plan on sticking you in an office somewhere. Kinda defeats the purpose of what you do.”
I smirked, landing on one shot that captured a shadowy figure looming in the background. I didn’t mind sending that one to Joe because it barely exposed the man whose anonymity I was protecting.
Something I still didn’t understand. But as I studied the shot that captured him lounging, watching the second match, foot against the concrete wall, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats, I smiled. He intrigued me. There was a story there. One I was eager to know but would never allow myself to dig into. But that didn’t stop me from enjoying the reminders of why I was so intrigued.
“Saniya, you there?”
I frowned, nodding. “Yep, I’m here, Joe. Just letting you get your pitch out of the way so I can shoot you down for the millionth time. But you’re right, you will never stick me in an office or stifle my freedom because I’m never accepting.”
“What if I sweeten the pot? I can add a little extra on the bottom line.”
“It’s not about money. I don’t want to be attached to anyone.”
“You’re taking this nomad thing a little too far. Everybody needs somebody, Saniya.”
I smirked. “That might be true, but you’re trying to hire me, not wine and dine me.”
He chuckled. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah I do and the answer is still no.”
He huffed through his irritation. Joe wanted the bragging rights of saying I was attached to Inside Track as more than just a freelancer. That wasn’t happening. “Fine, then just tell me why none of the shots you sent me are of Grand.”
My fingers stilled over the mouse and I shifted in my seat. “Who’s Grand?”
I played it cool.
“From what I hear, the reason why the winnings reached six figures on Friday and might even get as high as seven if he keeps winning.” My eyes expanded at the thought of that much money exchanging hands from men brutally beating each other, only focusing again when I realized why Joe wanted me on this. “They’re already whispering about him. The guy is an enigma. Skilled but raw talent. Why the hell would anyone waste that type of talent? He was there last night. He fought yet I have no visual proof.”
“I thought you didn’t know much about this. Sounds to me like you do.”
“I never said I didn’t know much about it. I said I wanted to be the first to publish before any of these guys made it big. Whoever this Grand guy is… there’s a story there. I want it.”
I frowned at the phone. “I sent you what I have. I don’t know who…”
“As much as I appreciate what you sent, none of those shots are of Grand, and after the buzz surrounding him last night, he’s my story.”
“If you don’t know the guy, then how do you know he’s not who I sent photos of?”
“Because… I have a few shots of him…”
“Then why send me there if you already had what you needed, and before you answer, be mindful that I’m already not feeling that you lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. I told you there’s a lot of raw talent there and I want to be on the breaking edge of their career before they make it big. I want the exclusive. You have no idea how much money can be attached to the careers of guys like him. After one fight, there are already rumors circulating that he can be something great. He’s got a story. A good one and I want it because no matter what that story is, someone’s going to eventually offer him a deal he can’t refuse.”
“Then why not just tell me you were looking for him specifically.”
“Because I didn’t know there was a him . I only knew the place breeds raw talent. You’re good, Saniya. I didn’t have to give you direction. The way you work means you wouldn’t miss the opportunity to capture a diamond in the rough. I was counting on it and wanted you to shoot the fighters in only the way you can. Had I told you what I wanted, you would have delivered, but it wouldn’t have been pure and unbiased. I didn’t know about Grand until this morning when photos leaked. They’re careful with access.”
So you used me.
“I guess you’ll just have to stick with the photos you already have…”
“That won’t work. They’re not good enough. A few candid shots from phones in the dimly-lit room is nothing compared to what I know you can do. Nothing like what you have.”
“What makes you think I have anything at all?”
He chuckled. “Like I said, Saniya. I hired you for a reason. You don’t think I have a list full of photographers who I could have paid half as much to handle this for me?”
“But there was also the chance that they wouldn’t have found a way inside. I have more connections.”
“Yeah that too. but either way, you’re killing my pockets, kid. Name your price. I need those shots and just so you know, I don’t appreciate you trying to strongarm me.”
Was he serious right now?
“Fuck you, Joe. If I’m anything at all, it’s ethical. I earned every penny you paid me. I more than delivered.”
And I had.
Regardless of holding back the shots of Grand.
“Saniya, hold on…” I heard him protest just before I ended the call.
I liked Joe for the most part. He was a reasonable guy but I didn’t like being misled or used and that was how I felt. I couldn’t say for certain that if he had been honest I would have handed over the photos of Grand.
The guy didn’t want to be seen. Or at least not according to his cousin. Had Joe mentioned why he really wanted me on the inside, then maybe I wouldn’t have minded handing over the goods. A job was a job and a paid job would have been completed with interest.
Joe called back but I ignored him and instead navigated to the folder where I had Grand’s photos. I edited a few, but there wasn’t much work that needed to be done. The rawness of him, the dead look in his eyes, the strength in his stance even while taking blow after blow. It was all so perfect.
I clicked on the one I captured right before he knocked the guy out, studying his face. There was something about his expression—the tension in his jaw, the fire and fury in his eyes. The shot was only seconds before he landed the blow that ended the match. He had every intention of knocking the guy out. It was as if he waited until that very moment, when it was clear he was the better fighter. He allowed Levitt to hit him, wanted him to, and as soon as he received his fill of torture, he ended things.
“Why?” I whispered to myself. The photos staring back at me gave away nothing. And I knew I was about to travel down a road I had no business traveling. What little I knew about this man, which was basically nothing, was he’d potentially suffered something terrible in his life.
He was the type of man who had a past people whispered about. That past shaped him into whoever he had become. The walking weapon I witnessed a few nights ago and thoughts of that man had my heart beating faster. I needed to know him, needed his story, regardless of how every fiber of my being was screaming for me to stay away and forget I’d ever met him.
The next night I found myself back at The Pit. I had no idea if it was a place he frequented or not, but I had no other connection to the man. No idea how to track him. This was my only hope of running into him again and I desperately wanted to.
I arrived at ten o’clock, sat at the bar, and by midnight there was still no sign of him. The two shots of liquor I had kept my seat at the bar but did little for my longing. I didn’t have the distraction of a conversation with the bartender who helped me find the fight. In his place were two women who openly flirted with their customers as they danced around each other.
I entertained myself, watching them for a while, trying to prolong my stay, but eventually disappointment settled in and I gave up. I placed three twenties under my glass and threw my hand up, motioning to them that I was ready to close out my tab. Once I had the attention of one of the ladies, she smiled and offered a nod when I pointed to the cash under my glass. I slipped off the stool and pushed my way through the crowd. It was thick, the music was loud, and my body was still humming from the alcohol in my system. But seconds before I reached the door, a spike of fear jolted through me. I felt pressure on my upper arm and I was dragged out the front door, narrowly missing the glass metal edge as the humidity kissed my skin and had me sucking in a thick breath.
Before I could break free, my back landed hard against the rough brick that began just beyond the entrance to The Pit. My eyes widened as I attempted to unscramble my brain to make sense of the massive figure looming over me and blocking my access.
“Who the fuck are you and why are you asking questions about me?”
I opened my mouth to respond but swallowed thickly when his free hand knocked the hood from his head, granting me a shadowy view of his angry expression. It was eerily similar to the one he’d issued Levitt moments before taunting him into a battle Levitt hadn’t stood a chance at winning.
“Something wrong with your mouth? I asked you a question?”
My anger flared, granting me a bit of false bravado. “Nothing’s wrong with my mouth but if you want an answer to your question you might want to work on your delivery.”
I could barely see his eyes but I noticed the moment they narrowed and his jaw contracted. His fingers bit deeper into my arm and he inched closer. The threat of his body crept through me and I should have been afraid but my stupid brain registered a different emotion.
Need…
“You go snooping around in a man’s personal business, you don’t get pleasantries. You get exactly what I’m offering. A warning that you need to answer my gotdamn question…”
“Or…”
He delivered that same death stare he gave in the ring but the way his eyes danced with amusement had my abs tensing and flexing.
“You were here at The Pit a few nights ago, then you were at the fight asking questions. Now you’re here again tonight.”
“Who says I’m here for you?”
“You just did.” He inched closer and I hated that my body betrayed me yet again by taking notice of the spicy, clean scent that clung to his skin, the light hint of mint on his breath as it whispered over my face, and the effortless way he kept me imprisoned between his body and the wall. We were hidden from anyone that might potentially be curious about who he was talking to. Unfortunately there wasn’t anyone around besides the two of us.
“I told your cousin who I was.”
“Saniya Montgomery. A photographer.”
“Why ask if you know who I am?”
“I don’t know who you are. I know your name and what you do. I don’t know shit about you nor do I know why you were at the fight asking about me. How did you even get in there?”
“Does it matter?”
He laughed roughly. “Stupid question.”
It was a stupid question. To a man like him, everything mattered, especially someone trying to infiltrate his life.
“I was hired to take pictures of the fight.”
“Of me?” His face hardened.
“No, not you specifically. Just of the fights.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a big mystery. Organized, illegal, underground fights. People are curious.”
“So you are a reporter?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then why the fuck were you there and more importantly why were you asking questions about me?”
“I was there because I’m good, the best actually, and the guy who hired me wanted the best. My questions about you were…” I paused briefly, not wanting to say but for some reason I did. “Personal.”
“Personal?”
“I watched you fight. I was curious.”
His eyes squinted slightly then lowered to my lips. My heart lurched as he examined me, trying to decide if my response was good enough. His guard stayed up, trying to decide if I was a threat. This big imposing man saw me as a potential threat but not a physical one.
“Curiosity can get you into some shit you can’t handle. Stop asking about me. I’m not someone you want to know and don’t come back to the fights. If you weren’t invited, then you shouldn’t be there.” His warning was clear. Stay the hell away from me and the fighting but his stance had shifted. It wasn’t a threat. He no longer viewed me as a threat. He was protecting me. What I couldn’t tell was what he was protecting me from, the fights or him.
When he let me go and walked away, I shouldn’t have stopped him. I should have been grateful but I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled my logic away, yelling at his back.
“Then invite me.”
My heart thundered in my chest as I watched. He stopped but didn’t turn to face me and time stood still until he snarled at me over his shoulder and shattered whatever hopes I clung to.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t protect you.”
“I don’t need you to protect me from them.”
“I didn’t mean from them…”
From him.
I felt the silent omission as his icy stare met mine. My stomach squeezed and the air around me changed with a warning I should have accepted but knew I wouldn’t.