“It is.” I try to keep my voice bright. The building isn't the best, but it’s not like I have a lot of options. I really had no choice in the matter. This is where I was put. I suppose anything is better than six feet under, which is where my last employer wishes I was.
“It smells,” Paige says as Bear helps her out of the back seat. Leave it to children to be brutally honest.
“I think that’s the factory.” I point to the giant plant a few blocks over. They make dog food. At least that’s what I’ve been told. A strange smell is always coming from there.
“It doesn't smell that bad.” Bear tries to come to my building's defense.
“It’s okay. I know it does.” I snort a laugh. They both follow me inside. Paige slips her hand into mine as I take the stairs up to the second floor. I stop walking when I spot my apartment door hanging open about an inch.
“You live alone?” Bear asks. I nod my response. He motions for Paige and me to stay put. Before I can try to stop him, he’s already pushing into my place. I tell myself it’s a normal break-in. Nothing more. This isn’t a great part of town. Yet that doesn’t stop the panic that begins to rise in me. I always have that constant worry in the back of my mind that my past life has finally caught up with me.
My eyes widen when Bear comes back out a moment later. He’s got a man by the back of the neck. It takes me a moment to realize who it is.
“Ted? What are you doing in my apartment?” He’s in his normal wrinkled suit.
“Yeah, Ted. Why are you inside her place?” Bear growls. Yeah, that was definitely a growl.
“I own the building,” he sputters.
“You can’t just let yourself into my place whenever you want.” Can he? Ted has always given me the creeps. He stares a bit too long.
“I own the building,” he repeats. He tries to break from Bear’s hold, but it’s pointless. He’s not going anywhere unless Bear allows it.
“Go get your things, Honey,” Bear says. “Take Paige with you.”
I do as I’m told, slipping past both of them. Paige’s hand is still in mine.
“Ted is in trouble,” Paige says when the door closes behind us, leaving Ted and Bear out in the hallway. “Have you been robbed?'' Paige glances around my bare apartment.
“No, sweetheart,” I respond.
Not today at least. I was robbed six months ago of my life.
Chapter Seven
Bear
“Hey, aren’t you Bear Chan? Fighter Chan?” The little worm in my grip tries to wriggle around to face me.
“Yeah, and what about it?” I jerk him toward the wall, not because I’m trying to be incognito or anything but because I don’t want his spit in my face. Plus, does he deserve to look at me? No.
“I’m a big fan. Bought the pay per view of your fight three months ago. It was three months, right? Or four? I think February because it was after Valentine’s Day, and I’d suggested to the missus that she buy the fight for me as a gift, but she didn’t because she’s a stingy bitch. All mad because I didn’t get her fucking flowers on Valentine’s Day, but I told her last year she wasn’t getting none after she refused to put out. Who doesn’t put out on Valentine’s Day? That’s part of the deal. I give you roses and a box of chocolates and you have to go down on me and swallow. None of this shit where you bring me to the edge and then pump me until I come. No way, I want my dick down your throat cuz that’s what a real woman does.”
This guy wouldn’t know a real woman if she slapped him across the face. “Don’t care about none of that. I don’t know what games you play here, but you step inside someone’s apartment without permission again, and you’re not going to like the consequences.”
“I own this place,” the worm declares.
I mash his face against the wall until his cheekbone is flush with the drywall. “I don’t like repeating myself. Stay out of people’s private property.” I give his head a few taps—just small ones—until he nods in agreement. “Glad we’ve come to an agreement. I hear you stepping outside of that, and I’m not going to be so nice.”
The door opens, and Honey and Paige step out. Honey’s got a small satchel in one hand and Paige’s little paw in the other. I release the worm, and he slides to the ground like the spineless creature he is.
“Ready?” At Honey’s small nod, I gesture for them to go in front of me. As we walk away, I hear him hurl a few curse words at my back. Things like “I’m going to report you” and “Wait until the press hears about this” which might affect some people, but I fight for a living. The public doesn’t care about what I do outside of the ring so long as they get their bloodlust quenched when I fight, and I always put on a good show. Plus, unlike some other fighters, I’m not spending all my money on drugs, booze, and women. I’ve invested in gyms and property. I could hang it all up tomorrow and not worry about feeding myself. Lots of guys don’t have that luxury. I still fight because I like it. Stepping inside the ring, beating the daylights out of some guy, and coming out a conqueror charges my battery. Getting paid to do it is just a bonus.