Page 85 of My Fixation

The dusty, dank smell hits me first. The scent of a building that hasn’t seen proper maintenance in years. My eyes adjust to the harsh overhead lights as we step inside.

Directly in the center of the warehouse stand Manny Deluga and his second, Gabriel Delgado. I haven’t seen Manny since that night at the bar. Gabriel, only once, at the fights, back when all of this started. It feels like a lifetime ago.

They are flanked by two men I can only assume are soldiers. They are both big, broad-shouldered, with hard eyes. The kind of men whose job is to stand quietly until violence is required. My gaze moves automatically. Both are carrying in shoulder rigs. The outline is obvious once you know what you’re looking for. I continue my assessment. The information settles into place automatically. Years of training compressed into instinct.

Beside me, Conor is silent. Ahead of us, Duncan keeps walking. The atmosphere in the warehouse feels different than it did outside. Heavier. Like everyone is waiting for someone to make the first move. I have spent enough time in dangerous situations to recognize the feeling. The calm before everything changes.

“Mr. Murphy, it’s nice to finally meet you in person.” Manny holds out his hand. Duncan doesn’t take it. The rejection is subtle, deliberate, and effective. Manny’s fake smile slips for a fraction of a second before returning. “Alright then. Straight to business.”

His attention shifts to me. Immediately, Conor moves. Only half a step, barely noticeable, yet suddenly he’s positioned slightly in front of me. Partially blocking Manny’s view. My chest tightens. No one has ever stepped in front of me before.

“Jaxon Kane.” Manny’s voice pulls my attention back to him. “You still owe me quite a bit of money.”

I keep my expression neutral. Years of military service taught me that sometimes silence is more useful than words.

“I was gracious enough to let you work that off, but it seems that hasn’t happened yet.” His grin widens. The sight of it turns my stomach. “I should have killed you for putting your hands on me, but I didn’t.” His eyes harden. “I’m thinking now that was a mistake.”

The threat hangs in the air. Beside me, Conor takes a step forward. The movement is small. But I know him well enough now to recognize it for what it is. A warning. Before he can say anything, I place a hand on his forearm. The muscle beneath my palm is rigid. For a second, I think he might ignore me. Then he stills.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement. Both bodyguards shift immediately. Their hands are moving closer to their weapons. Manny notices it too. He raises a hand. The bodyguards relax.

“By my records, you still owe me thirty grand.” His gaze remains fixed on me. Like the Murphys aren’t standing here at all. “It seems there is a discrepancy with that number. That Henry stole from me. Since we’ve been unable to locate Henry, it seems we have your word against mine.”

The statement settles heavily in the warehouse. I keep my face neutral. But my mind is already moving ahead. Because this conversation was never going to be about the money. Not really. Men like Manny don’t come to meetings like this for thirty thousand dollars. They come for power. And right now he’s trying to see who has more of it.

“As I told you on the phone, we are willing to settle the debt on Jaxon’s behalf. Yet you called for this meeting. Why?” Duncan speaks for the first time since entering the warehouse. His voice isn’t loud. The question lands with the sharp precision of a knife.

Manny’s attention shifts to him. “I’m interested in why and how someone like him has your backing.” His gaze slides to me. The disgust in it isn’t subtle.

I’ve seen that look before. In foster homes, by Trent when he tore my heart out, and from men who decided they knew exactly who I was before I ever opened my mouth. The expression doesn’t bother me anymore. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Conor’s jaw tighten. The muscles in his shoulders bunch beneath his shirt.

For most of my life, insults were something I dealt with alone. Something I ignored. Something I survived. Now every slight aimed at me seems to become a personal offense to Conor. As though Manny didn’t just insult me. He insulted something that belongs to him. The realization should probably concern me. Instead, a small part of me finds it reassuring. Dangerous, but reassuring.

Manny continues watching me. Waiting for a reaction. Waiting for me to get angry. To get defensive. To prove whatever point he’s trying to make. I keep my expression neutral. Because one thing the Marines taught me is that some people aren’t looking for answers. They’re looking for weaknesses. And I’m not interested in giving him one.

“What and who Jaxon is to us is not your concern.” Duncan reaches into his jacket and pulls out a large envelope. The thing is thick, roughly the size of one of my paperback novels. Thirty thousand dollars. The number settles heavily in my stomach. I stare at the envelope. At the tangible proof of what the Murphys are willing to spend to make this problem disappear.

The thought sits wrong with me. My entire life has been built around self-sufficiency. If I needed something, I found a way to get it myself. If I had a problem, I solved it myself. Accepting help was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Yet standing here, watching Duncan prepare to hand over more money than most people make in months, I realize something.

Not one of them has hesitated. Not one single member of the Murphy family. It’s as if helping me is the most natural thing in the world. As if I am worth it. The thought is somehow harder to accept than the debt itself.

“I also told you this had conditions.” Manny makes no move to take the envelope.

The knot in my stomach tightens. There it is. The catch. Because men like Manny never make things easy.

“Jaxon is here. That was your condition.” Duncan’s voice remains calm. As though this is a routine business negotiation instead of a meeting that could go sideways at any moment.

“Yes. My condition to take this meeting.” Manny smiles. The expression doesn’t reach his eyes. “But not to clear the debt.” No surprise flashes across Duncan’s face. Which means he expected this.

The money was never the point. It was leverage. And men like Manny rarely surrender leverage willingly. Manny glances toward Gabriel. His second immediately hands him a stack of papers. Manny barely glances at the documents before handing them to Duncan.

My attention shifts to the papers. Then to Manny. Trying to determine what game he’s playing. Because this is a game. A negotiation and a power play on Manny’s part.

And for the first time since entering the warehouse, I have the distinct feeling that we’re finally getting to the reason he wanted this meeting.

“So let me get this straight.” Duncan’s voice remains calm. Almost bored. “You expect me to not only fund a questionable business venture for you, but you want me to agree to launder money through my company?”

The papers leave his hand. For a moment, they hang suspended in the air. Then drift to the concrete floor between them. The sound shouldn’t be loud. Yet in the sudden silence, it seems to echo through the warehouse. No one moves. The tension ratchets tighter. I don’t think the papers are what everyone is watching. They’re watching Manny. Waiting to see how he responds. Because Duncan didn’t just reject the offer. He dismissed it.