Shockingly Seductive (Addicted To You, Book Seven) (2 page)

“You’re hurt,” Lindsay said.

“I’m fine. This is nothing but typical post-fight aches and pains.”

“When does it go away?”

“I don’t know, maybe a week from now I’ll be mostly back to normal.”

Lindsay was still watching me, and I wanted to ask her what she was thinking.

Maybe she was thinking the same thing as me—that she wanted another chance to finish what we started last night. But probably not, given that she was the one who’d called the whole thing off.

“Can you throw me my shirt?” she asked.

I bent down and picked up her shirt from the floor. I could still smell the faint fragrance of her perfume on it. I recalled vividly how it had felt as I’d taken it off her last night. Everything in me clenched and tightened painfully.

She was on my bed, right there, right now—that beautiful girl who I could no longer resist trying to claim for my own—and I couldn’t do any of what I wanted to do.

It was enough to truly make me crazy.

“Hello?” she said, rolling her eyes and holding out her hand. “I kind of need my shirt.”

“And your bra, don’t forget.” I bent down and picked that up as well, grinning as I dangled it in front of her, like a string in front of a kitten.

“Give it,” she said. “Justin!”

I let her grab her bra away from me but I held onto the shirt, held it in my fist.

“What if I don’t want to give it back?” I asked. “What if I want to keep your shirt as a memento?”

“You’re starting to make me mad, Justin. Give me my shirt and then leave the room so I can put my clothes on.” Her cheeks had turned a nice shade of scarlet, which I liked.

I finally tossed her the shirt. “But I’m not leaving the room,” I said. “I’ll turn around.”

“Don’t you dare peek.”

“You do realize you slept in my bed last night without your shirt on, right?”

“No comment. Now turn around.”

“Fine.” I folded my arms and turned around. My whole body was hot. I had this thought in my head that if I turned back around right then, just stared at her and let her know my intentions, she wouldn’t really be able to resist me.

But then again, she’d made herself clear and I needed to try and respect that. She was freaked out about me and Brooklyn and I couldn’t change it, much as I might have wanted to erase the past.

“Can I turn around again?” I asked.

“Almost.”

Just then, I heard a buzzing sound. It was coming from Lindsay’s purse. “I think someone called you,” I told her. I bent down and picked up her purse and her phone and keys tumbled onto the floor. “Oops,” I laughed.

Her t-shirt was back on as she scrambled across the bed.

The phone was staring at me, face up. I could read the text plain as day.

Can you come to the clinic 2day? Don’t worry-no blood draws so u wont need me
to catch u if you swoon ;)

“What’s that text about?” I asked, as she gathered her things, taking the purse from me.

Her face was flushed, and although she had her t-shirt on now, she was still only wearing panties. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t snoop on my phone.”

“I wasn’t snooping, Lindsay. The phone was staring me in the face and I couldn’t help but read what was on it.”

“It’s nothing. Just Carter, the teacher’s assistant that I work with at the clinic.”

“So you work with this jerk?”

“He’s not a jerk.” Lindsay was already replying to the text.

“What are you saying to him?”

She looked up from the phone and glared at me. “I’m telling him that I’ll be going to the clinic today.”

“I don’t like him.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’ve never even met him.”

I could feel my face getting hot, and my insides clenching with anger. “What was that shit about swooning in his arms?”

“It’s nothing,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “I had a little…I don’t know…spell. A patient was getting blood drawn and I got dizzy and he just brought me some juice.”

“So what—he’s like your personal savior now or something?”

“Ummm…you’re being ridiculous.” She continued to text away, which was maddening.

I glared at the phone as if it had done something personal to me. I couldn’t even understand why exactly that text bugged me so much. It was just the idea of this clown thinking he was being all smooth with his little jokey texts, and Lindsay not even realizing what he was about.

“You know, you’re really naïve about guys,” I said, finally.

She looked at me again. “Clearly.”

“I’m being serious. I can tell right away that this Carter dude is playing you.”

“You think every guy is out to get me.”

“Listen to me, Lindsay. That’s not the kind of email a guy would send to another guy, okay? He’s sending that to you because he’s trying to make you think he’s cool and funny on top of being smart—I’m sure he’s smart. Probably older than you, too.”

I could tell I was making her think because she got those little frown lines and her forehead creased as she considered what I was telling her.

“I can’t second-guess everything guys do or say to me,” she replied. “I’m in college, Justin. There are boys everywhere around me. Sometimes they actually talk to me. I’m not going to stop talking to guys just because you’re crazy.”

“I didn’t say you should stop talking to them.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

Kiss me, I thought. I wanted to grab her right then and there, pull her against me like I did last night. What the hell was wrong with us? Why couldn’t we just be a normal couple?

I didn’t answer. “I gotta go to the bathroom and brush my teeth,” I said, instead, and left the room.

I calmed down a little as I splashed cold water on my face in the bathroom. Then I brushed my teeth. As I was finishing up, I got a text. Pulling my phone out of my pants pocket, I saw it was from Brooklyn, and I felt a chill go through me.

Dad wants you to come down to the gym ASAP.

I stared at it. Should I respond? Why didn’t Quarry just text me himself?

Finally, I decided to text her an answer so she wouldn’t keep bothering me, or possibly even call while I was with Lindsay.

Be there a little later.

Then I put my cell back in my pocket and left the bathroom. I was feeling a little embarrassed after giving Lindsay such a hard time about Carter’s text, when I was basically worse than her in every way. I’d slept with Brooklyn. And she was still bugging me.

When I got back to the room, Lindsay was dressed and ready to go. We gave each other an awkward smile.

“I guess I should go,” she said.

“Yeah. I need to get to the gym,” I replied.

I couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong exactly. We both wanted to say something more, or do something more—it was obvious. But there wasn’t anything we could say or do that would change anything.

Lindsay turned and headed for the door.

I walked outside with her and she looked at me with a little smile. “Call me later?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah.” I had a pit in my stomach the size of the Grand Canyon. “I’ll call you.”

She walked away and I let her go, even though I didn’t know why.

***

The last person I wanted to see at the gym was the very first person I saw when I walked inside. Brooklyn was sitting next to Z and they were laughing about something together. When Brooklyn saw me, her laughter dissipated. “Hey, Justin. You look tired.

Late night?”

“Not really.” I turned and gave Z a handshake, and his huge hand enveloped mine.

“Congrats on your deal, man,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“You should thank my dad, too,” Brooklyn said, raising an eyebrow as if waiting for me to challenge her comment.

“Where is he, anyway?” I asked, looking around. People were training but he was nowhere to be found.

“Locker room,” Z said, tilting his head toward the back.

Brooklyn gave me a strange smile. “See you soon, honey.”

“Yeah, see you,” I replied, trying my best to hide my annoyance. Why did she have to be at the gym now? Before we hooked up, I pretty much never saw her around.

Now it seemed like she was going to follow me wherever I went.

I stepped into the locker room and found Quarry talking with another man I’d never seen before. The guy was short, with a mustache and graying hair, a stomach that protruded over his pants. He was opening a large duffel bag and Quarry was taking out containers—they looked like vials.

The men glanced at me, and then quickly went back to whatever they were doing.

“Should I come back later?” I asked.

“No, you can wait. We’re almost done here,” Quarry said. He was counting the vials, placing them on the bench next to him.

“Now I got to charge you more than last month,” the heavyset man said.

“Why?”

“Because, my guy’s charging me more.”

“Not my problem.”

“It
is
your problem, because I need to justify this kind of order, and I need to make enough money to keep doing it month after month.”

Quarry straightened up and stared at the man. His stare was withering in its intensity, and the other man appeared to almost physically wilt in the face of it.

Quarry didn’t say anything, just stared.

Finally, the heavyset man caved in. “Anyway, we need to talk about next time,”

the man said. “We can keep payment the same this month.”

Quarry nodded, his jaw set. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a huge wad of cash, then counted out a bunch of bills. “This covers it,” he said.

“Thanks, man. Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”

Quarry just nodded again, his eyes steely. The smaller man grabbed his duffel bag and scurried out like a mouse running from a cat.

“Glad you made it,” Quarry said to me, as he gathered up the vials and opened a locker, putting them inside and slamming it shut with a metallic bang. He spun the lock once and looked at me.

“Brooklyn said you wanted to see me?”

He nodded curtly, brushing his hands together. “Come on, let’s go into the back office and chat.”

We walked through a door and into a small back office. It was cluttered with papers and trophies and smelled vaguely of sweat and rubbing alcohol.

Quarry sat behind the desk and I sat on a small wooden chair that felt like it could collapse at any moment.

“You and I need to have a very frank discussion,” he said.

I felt my insides get tense and sweat broke out on my palms. I felt like I’d been ambushed in a way. “Did I do something wrong between last night and this morning?”

Quarry’s eyes studied me with complete detachment. “I need to make sure you’re going to play the game my way. And I need to know it now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I train hard, I fight hard, I come to win.

Isn’t that good enough?”

He shook his head once. “No, it’s not.”

I felt my face flush. “Then tell me what you want from me.”

“I need to know that you’ll be a team player.”

“Of course. When it comes to training—”

“You’ve been turning down supplements,” he said softly. But beneath the softness of his voice, I heard the intensity…and the anger.

“I just don’t need them.”

“You lost last night. So maybe you do need them after all, Brown.”

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my cool. “Listen, I’m a team player. I will train night and day, workout with anybody, spar with anyone, you name it. But I decide what I put in my body. I never had a coach try to tell me what kind of pills to take.”

“I’m a different kind of coach and this is a different kind of gym. Now we got you the deal you wanted and it’s time you held up your end of the bargain.”

“Drew Ellis gave me that deal—and I earned it.”

Quarry laughed at this. “Sure. You earned it. By getting fucking choked out.”

I sat up straighter in my chair. “Fuck you, Quarry. I don’t need you or this gym.

I can train anywhere I want—plenty of gyms will be happy to have me. And I got my deal with the UFF.” I stood up. “So thanks, but no thanks on your supplements and your threats, bro.”

“Hold on a minute,
bro
.” Quarry picked a few sheets of paper of his desk and threw them at me. “You might want to check your contract before you spout off.”

The papers landed at my feet. I bent down and picked them up. It was a copy of my contract with the UFF. I glanced at it. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe you should have read it more closely. One of the conditions in that contract is that you train with me, at my gym, during your tenure in the UFF. That means I own you, Brown.”

I paged through and found the section he was talking about, and he was right—it actually said that I was required to fight out of Quarry’s gym, and to use him as a trainer, during the two fights that the UFF had signed me for.

My stomach sank. I reread those lines in the contract over and over again, searching for a way out. But there was none, and Quarry knew it. When I looked up at him again, he was grinning—but his eyes were cold and dead.

“Why don’t you sit the fuck back down again?” he said. “Take a load off.”

I sat down again, deflated, wondering what was next. “I’m listening.”

“Good,” he said. “Listening’s good.” Quarry opened a drawer in his desk and pulled something out, keeping it in the closed fist. He walked around the desk towards me. “I need you to get on board. I need you to be a team player, and that means you do what I say, when I say it, without question. If you don’t like my style, you can leave.

But you may as well tear up that UFF contract when you go. Because you won’t fight for them if I have any say in the matter.”

I nodded wearily. I felt like I’d taken more of a beating in this room than I had last night, fighting Uriah. “I understand.”

“Perfect. That’s what I like to hear.” He grabbed my wrist and held my hand out, palm up. Then he pressed something into my hand and let go of my wrist.

I looked down and saw a vial of liquid in my hand. The label said: nandrolone decanoate. I knew it was a steroid; I’d heard of it before, but never seen it or held a vial of it.