Page 30 of Craving the Edge

He pulled the door shut and I was alone, the unresolved tension throbbing in the space he’d left behind. In the ghost of his hand on my face.

I leaned back against the wall, my mind a chaotic mess. Gary’s pathetic greed. Rhys’ invasive manipulations. The pack of photographers still baying for blood outside. My hands started to shake. A dizzying wave washed over me, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the sudden vertigo.

I will burn it all to the ground before I let them hurt you.

Did he mean it? His threat echoed, a dangerous spark in the darkness. It was the kind of promise I’d stopped believing in years ago. Still, a treacherous part of me wanted to believe him.

My world was shrinking, the walls closing in. All I had left to hold on to was the grit and grime of Fighter’s Edge…and now even that was slipping through my fingers.

CHAPTER 11

DECLAN

The next morning they’d multiplied.

The flicker of headlights on brick was my only warning. I rounded the corner into the back lane that led to the gym and hissed. “For fuck’s sake.”

A wad of photographers blocked the entrance to Fighter’s Edge, their long lenses pointed at the roller door.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel. It just kept getting worse.

I’d had it out last night with Rhys right after he’d told me he’d run a full background check on Charlotte.

It’s done, he’d said. Clean record. No red flags. She’s nobody.

It took everything I had not to put my fist through his face right there. The sheer fucking audacity of it. To dig into her life like that then call her nothing?

I killed the engine and got out, the car door thudding shut behind me. The noise drew the attention of the waiting horde. A ripple went through them and then they surged forward. Flashes popped, blinding white spots dancing in my vision.

“Declan! Is it true you’re dating the gym manager?”

“Is Charlotte Judge your new girlfriend?”

“Are you prepared for the fight in Sydney?”

“Is she a distraction?”

I shoved my hands in my pockets, my right hand instinctively curling into a fist, and pushed through them. Their questions were meaningless noise. One bloke, a reporter with a smarmy face stepped in front of me, blocking the narrow path to the door.

“Just one question, Walsh.”

I shouldered past him without a word, and he stumbled back. I reached the roller door, fumbling for the handle, the crush of bodies pressing in from all sides. I wrenched up the roller door and ducked underneath.

It rattled down behind me, sealing off the camera shutters and shouted questions. My eyes adjusted to the dim light of the gym and immediately saw her.

Char stood behind the desk, a dark hoodie pulled up over her hair. She watched me walk towards her, her face blank. A low thrum started in my veins, a familiar pull that tightened in my jeans. It was ridiculous, the effect she had. How couldn’t she know?

“I spoke to Rhys last night,” I said, stopping a few feet from the desk. “He won’t bother you again. I made that clear.” By threatening his job and his teeth, but she didn’t need to know that.

I watched her face for some sign of relief but she gave me nothing. Her grey-green eyes were unreadable. The same unshakeable woman I’d met on day one was back in full force.

“Did you read it?” Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the air. “The background check. Did you read it?”

“No,” I said, the word coming out rougher than I intended. “Christ, no. I’d never do that.”

Doubt flickered in her gaze for a second, but it was enough to do some serious damage. A hollow understanding settled in my gut. My word meant bugger all. She had no reason to believe me, not when my world had just crashed into hers and dragged her through the mud. My promises were just noise compared to the gross invasion of privacy from Rhys and the press.

I had all the power here simply by being ‘Declan Walsh’ and what little she had was taken away so easily… I needed to give her a piece of the truth, something she could use if she ever needed to. An equaliser.