Fighting Dirty
Page 56
Gesturing grandly, Armie said, “Sure. Let the inquisition begin.”
Cannon nodded to Rissy, who still hovered near the hallway. “Rissy, you might as well hang around. This could take a while.”
Armie met his friend’s gaze, and knew Cannon was up to something. Fine, whatever.
But why did it have to involve Rissy?
He didn’t want her anywhere near his sad excuse for a parent. But again, if that’s what Cannon wanted...
Relenting, he turned to her and held out a hand. “Looks like the party is in here, Stretch, and apparently you’re invited.”
* * *
“I REMEMBER YOU,” Mac said. “You and Armie were thick as thieves back in the day. You liked to play his guardian angel, didn’t you? Always digging him out of trouble.”
“You’re as wrong now as you were back then. Not that I expected you to change.” Cannon wished he could somehow make this easier on Armie, but with a father like his, that wasn’t possible.
“Yeah,” Mac murmured, “that’s how you always told it.”
It all had to be connected: threats against Armie, against his sister, and now, after so many years, Armie’s degenerate dad suddenly knocked on his door.
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Cannon said, doing what he could to keep things civil. “Rissy, is that coffee I smell?”
“Yes, and there’s some left.”
Cannon held back and let Rissy go first, then Armie, then Mac. No way in hell would he trust Armie’s dad at his back.
Unfortunately, Mac made a beeline for a book on the table, picking it up and then laughing. “Yours?” he asked Armie.
Going beet red and scowling, Rissy snatched it away from him. “It’s mine.”
Mac looked at Armie. “You always were a lucky fuck.”
Even knowing Armie’s language usually included profanities, Cannon told Mac, “You’ll watch your mouth in front of my sister.”
“Sister?”
With a deadly stare that held clear warning, Cannon nodded. “That’s right.”
“Damn, boy.” He barked another laugh at Armie. “Scratching that itch a little close to home, aren’t you?”
Armie made a move, and Cannon clasped his shoulder. “This is on me, remember?”
Ignoring that, Armie shoved into Mac’s space, every muscle knotted tight. “Insult her again and I’ll take you apart and there’s not a goddamn thing Cannon will do about it.”
Mac held up both hands. “Jesus, boy. It was just an observation.” He stepped back, and then took a seat, his gaze darting everywhere. “Don’t suppose I could get a cup of that coffee, too?”
Rissy refilled her and Armie’s cups and handed Cannon his before setting one before Mac. She took the seat across from him, and Armie stood at her side—which meant Cannon had to stand, too, because he didn’t trust Armie’s mood. He looked ready to launch at Mac with any provocation at all.
“Why are you here?” Cannon asked after everyone had tasted their coffee.
“If I say that’s between my boy and me, would it matter?”
Armie and Cannon said, “No,” at almost the same time.
“Fine.” Sitting forward, Mac put his folded arms on the table and took another shifty look around the room. “I figured we could help each other.”
“No.”
Exasperated, Cannon asked Armie, “Can we find out what kind of help he’s talking about?”
Armie didn’t look like he wanted to, but he held silent.
“I need money,” Mac announced.
After staring, Armie laughed and roughly ran a hand over his head. Cannon saw Merissa touch his back.
His sister was good for Armie. Cannon hoped Armie remembered that when everything imploded for him. For too long Armie had denied his feelings—about everything. He was stoic, too strong for his own good, and more than anything else, he needed to take down some of the walls he’d built, the walls that Cannon knew he’d deny having.
“So you’re broke?” Cannon asked Mac. “I’m not surprised. What does that have to do with Armie?”
“He needs an alibi.” Mac held up a hand. “Or at least he needs me to say he didn’t rape no girl.”
“No,” Merissa whispered, “he doesn’t.” Slowly, all but shaking with rage, she came out of her seat. “Because he didn’t.”
Everyone stared at her in surprise.
Mac was the first to break the spell. Frowning, he told Armie, “You managed to bury it once, but all that old shit is about to come back up again. People have already asked me about it. What I tell them is up to you.”
“Tell them the truth!”
Now it was Armie restraining Rissy. “Settle down, Stretch,” he told her quietly.
Instead she darted around Armie’s hold. Cannon caught her before she reached Mac and kept her at his side. But he let her speak. Hell, if nothing else, it was nice to see Armie’s blindsided expression.
Punctuating each word with rage, she said again, “Tell. The. Truth.”
“The truth is a tricky thing, girl.”
“Only to a liar.”
Whoa. Silence fell around the room.
Eyebrows up, Cannon moved slightly in front of her in case Mac did the unthinkable. Stony-faced, Armie stepped up to her other side.
Mac looked from Armie to Cannon and then to Rissy. His lip curled. “Got your skirts fighting your battles now? Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Armie flattened a hand to her abdomen, keeping her still. “You have two seconds to say what you want before I toss you to the curb.”
Mac shoved back his chair. “A grand.”
“For what?” Cannon asked. “Spell it out.”
“For me to say he never raped anyone.”
“No,” Armie told him flatly. “Anything else?”
Cannon wished his sister and Armie would cool down a few degrees so he could get some answers. “Who approached you?” he asked.
Mac shifted shrewd eyes in his direction, and apparently decided to deal with him while ignoring the others. “Don’t know, and if you want me to find out, it’ll cost you.”
“What do you know?” Rissy demanded with palpable impatience.
“I got a call asking me about that nasty bit of business. Wanting details and such.” He lifted one heavy shoulder. “Told ’em the same as I just said here—info costs money.”
“And?” Cannon asked, before Rissy could tear into the bastard. “Did you come to an agreement?”
“He’s supposed to call back.” Mac licked his lips while sending a furtive glance at Armie. “Figured I might check with my son first, to see if he’d be interested in upping the ante.”
Yeah, right. More likely the deal had fallen through but had inspired Mac to try a scam of his own. “You don’t know who called?”
“Nope.” Mac worked his back teeth together and again glanced at Armie. “I saw you have that big fight comin’ up. That’s got to be worth something, right? I looked up paydays, and the fighters make out real nice.”
Cannon almost laughed. New fighters rarely made enough to cover expenses, especially if competing meant they couldn’t carry a regular day job. Armie was the exception to the rule; he really would clean up, especially after he won. But none of that was Mac’s business.
Cannon nodded to Rissy, who still hovered near the hallway. “Rissy, you might as well hang around. This could take a while.”
Armie met his friend’s gaze, and knew Cannon was up to something. Fine, whatever.
But why did it have to involve Rissy?
He didn’t want her anywhere near his sad excuse for a parent. But again, if that’s what Cannon wanted...
Relenting, he turned to her and held out a hand. “Looks like the party is in here, Stretch, and apparently you’re invited.”
* * *
“I REMEMBER YOU,” Mac said. “You and Armie were thick as thieves back in the day. You liked to play his guardian angel, didn’t you? Always digging him out of trouble.”
“You’re as wrong now as you were back then. Not that I expected you to change.” Cannon wished he could somehow make this easier on Armie, but with a father like his, that wasn’t possible.
“Yeah,” Mac murmured, “that’s how you always told it.”
It all had to be connected: threats against Armie, against his sister, and now, after so many years, Armie’s degenerate dad suddenly knocked on his door.
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Cannon said, doing what he could to keep things civil. “Rissy, is that coffee I smell?”
“Yes, and there’s some left.”
Cannon held back and let Rissy go first, then Armie, then Mac. No way in hell would he trust Armie’s dad at his back.
Unfortunately, Mac made a beeline for a book on the table, picking it up and then laughing. “Yours?” he asked Armie.
Going beet red and scowling, Rissy snatched it away from him. “It’s mine.”
Mac looked at Armie. “You always were a lucky fuck.”
Even knowing Armie’s language usually included profanities, Cannon told Mac, “You’ll watch your mouth in front of my sister.”
“Sister?”
With a deadly stare that held clear warning, Cannon nodded. “That’s right.”
“Damn, boy.” He barked another laugh at Armie. “Scratching that itch a little close to home, aren’t you?”
Armie made a move, and Cannon clasped his shoulder. “This is on me, remember?”
Ignoring that, Armie shoved into Mac’s space, every muscle knotted tight. “Insult her again and I’ll take you apart and there’s not a goddamn thing Cannon will do about it.”
Mac held up both hands. “Jesus, boy. It was just an observation.” He stepped back, and then took a seat, his gaze darting everywhere. “Don’t suppose I could get a cup of that coffee, too?”
Rissy refilled her and Armie’s cups and handed Cannon his before setting one before Mac. She took the seat across from him, and Armie stood at her side—which meant Cannon had to stand, too, because he didn’t trust Armie’s mood. He looked ready to launch at Mac with any provocation at all.
“Why are you here?” Cannon asked after everyone had tasted their coffee.
“If I say that’s between my boy and me, would it matter?”
Armie and Cannon said, “No,” at almost the same time.
“Fine.” Sitting forward, Mac put his folded arms on the table and took another shifty look around the room. “I figured we could help each other.”
“No.”
Exasperated, Cannon asked Armie, “Can we find out what kind of help he’s talking about?”
Armie didn’t look like he wanted to, but he held silent.
“I need money,” Mac announced.
After staring, Armie laughed and roughly ran a hand over his head. Cannon saw Merissa touch his back.
His sister was good for Armie. Cannon hoped Armie remembered that when everything imploded for him. For too long Armie had denied his feelings—about everything. He was stoic, too strong for his own good, and more than anything else, he needed to take down some of the walls he’d built, the walls that Cannon knew he’d deny having.
“So you’re broke?” Cannon asked Mac. “I’m not surprised. What does that have to do with Armie?”
“He needs an alibi.” Mac held up a hand. “Or at least he needs me to say he didn’t rape no girl.”
“No,” Merissa whispered, “he doesn’t.” Slowly, all but shaking with rage, she came out of her seat. “Because he didn’t.”
Everyone stared at her in surprise.
Mac was the first to break the spell. Frowning, he told Armie, “You managed to bury it once, but all that old shit is about to come back up again. People have already asked me about it. What I tell them is up to you.”
“Tell them the truth!”
Now it was Armie restraining Rissy. “Settle down, Stretch,” he told her quietly.
Instead she darted around Armie’s hold. Cannon caught her before she reached Mac and kept her at his side. But he let her speak. Hell, if nothing else, it was nice to see Armie’s blindsided expression.
Punctuating each word with rage, she said again, “Tell. The. Truth.”
“The truth is a tricky thing, girl.”
“Only to a liar.”
Whoa. Silence fell around the room.
Eyebrows up, Cannon moved slightly in front of her in case Mac did the unthinkable. Stony-faced, Armie stepped up to her other side.
Mac looked from Armie to Cannon and then to Rissy. His lip curled. “Got your skirts fighting your battles now? Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Armie flattened a hand to her abdomen, keeping her still. “You have two seconds to say what you want before I toss you to the curb.”
Mac shoved back his chair. “A grand.”
“For what?” Cannon asked. “Spell it out.”
“For me to say he never raped anyone.”
“No,” Armie told him flatly. “Anything else?”
Cannon wished his sister and Armie would cool down a few degrees so he could get some answers. “Who approached you?” he asked.
Mac shifted shrewd eyes in his direction, and apparently decided to deal with him while ignoring the others. “Don’t know, and if you want me to find out, it’ll cost you.”
“What do you know?” Rissy demanded with palpable impatience.
“I got a call asking me about that nasty bit of business. Wanting details and such.” He lifted one heavy shoulder. “Told ’em the same as I just said here—info costs money.”
“And?” Cannon asked, before Rissy could tear into the bastard. “Did you come to an agreement?”
“He’s supposed to call back.” Mac licked his lips while sending a furtive glance at Armie. “Figured I might check with my son first, to see if he’d be interested in upping the ante.”
Yeah, right. More likely the deal had fallen through but had inspired Mac to try a scam of his own. “You don’t know who called?”
“Nope.” Mac worked his back teeth together and again glanced at Armie. “I saw you have that big fight comin’ up. That’s got to be worth something, right? I looked up paydays, and the fighters make out real nice.”
Cannon almost laughed. New fighters rarely made enough to cover expenses, especially if competing meant they couldn’t carry a regular day job. Armie was the exception to the rule; he really would clean up, especially after he won. But none of that was Mac’s business.
