Fight for Her#3 by JJ Knight Read Free Book Online Page B

calls to 911. About to get dingue around here.”
    Colt jumps into the passenger seat.
    The car darts out onto the lane.  
    “I’ll tell my driver to meet us elsewhere,” Colt says.
    We zip along side streets. I catch a glimpse of flashing lights a block over as police cars race toward the warehouse.
    “How do you know about the 911 calls?” Parker asks.
    “Not a hard thing to trace,” she says.
    “Do you think it’s okay to go back to the hotel?” I ask.
    “We can stay somewhere else if would make you feel better,” Parker says.
    “Good idea,” Colt says. “Jo and I will get two rooms at the Bellagio. I’ll send someone to pack our stuff.”
    I lean back against the plush leather seats. I’m so unbelievably tired. I want to ask about Lani, who I faintly remembered, and this Annie girl. Is there more trouble to come? Will it ever really end?
    But that conversation can wait. I’m too tired to think about it now.

Chapter 13: Parker

    Maddie is sleeping as hard as I’ve ever seen her. The new room at the Bellagio overlooks the water fountains I admired the first night, when I wished Lily was here. It’s almost noon now, and I’ve called her. Her high, tiny voice is a relief after all the drama. I told her Mama would call later.
    I slip quietly from the room to meet Doc Simon. When I agreed to let him look me over, I didn’t think Maddie would still be sleeping at noon. I need to get a new phone for her too. This is all so ridiculous.
    Doc is in Colt’s room down the hall. Colt and Jo have gone with Brazen to talk to the president of the league about my fight with Viper. We’ve all agreed to stay quiet about what happened last night. It still feels like some sort of crazy dream. The warehouse, the gadgets, the trained men, the French girl. Jax shot in the back and doesn’t even notice.
    I wonder if the van explosion has happened yet.
    Doc inspects some of the cuts. I have deep bruising on my legs where Striker got his one hard knock with the chain.
    “I’d stay away from the press for at least a week,” Doc says. “You weren’t this banged up after the match, and they’ll wonder what happened to you.”
    “All right,” I say.
    “Should I look after Maddie?” he asks.
    “She’s still sleeping. I’ll ask her when she gets up.”
    He closes up his bag. “Just let me know.”
    Doc hesitates a second, then asks, “How did the other guys look?”
    I shrug. “Everybody was walking and talking when I left them.”
    “Messy business,” he says.
    “It has been lately.” Honestly, there really wasn’t that much drama in my fighting career until this. A couple fighters here and there tried to start something when they thought I’d taken a potshot or that a ref had called a match too early. Those things tended to end quickly, though. Maybe a few blows in a bar.
    Nothing like this.
    I say bye to Doc and head back to my room. I can’t even remember what got Striker so worked up at Colt in the first place. Something about a press conference. It was dumb, whatever it was. And now it had cost a whole lotta people their careers.
    I open the door slowly so I won’t wake Maddie. But she’s sitting up on the bed, the covers pulled up to her neck. Her eyes are wide open like she’s terrified.
    I rush over to her. “Are you okay? What happened?”
    Her voice is tight and full of fear. “You left me.”
    “I’m sorry. I met with Doc.”
    “You left me.”
    I lean in to pull her close, but she scoots away.
    “Maddie. Hey. We’re going to be all right now,” I tell her.
    But she tightens up in a ball, her knees at her neck. “It’s not all right. People came after you with chains. I got shoved in a van and taken with no phone, no way to call. People were shot, Parker. Shot in the back.”
    “Everyone came out of it fine.” I try to move toward her again, but she flinches so hard that I stop. She’s like a wounded bird.
    “I don’t think so,” she says.
    “Nobody is hurt more than they