Free The Ringer by Amber Malloy Page A

a beat. Nate Thornbird’s fiancée was stunning. “Jax called us,” Maxie told her before Lane asked if she were psychic. “Is it fun?”
    “Not when you’re dodging bullets,” she admitted.
    “No?” Maxie shot back as if it were the only thing that would make it fun for her.
    “Look, Max, there’s this thing I need….” Jax fumbled about for a moment before he mumbled, “I’m going to need a favor.”
    “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Maxie cupped her hand around her ear. “You need a huh?”
    “A favor,” Jax brow furrowed. “I’m going to need you to teach Lane some of your self-defense moves.”
    “Great top, Lane,” Maxie complimented her.
    “Thanks.” She wondered where the strange shift in conversation had come from.
    “Who made it?”
    Lane glanced down at the top she wore—an airy, sweet number. The white peasant blouse fit in all the right places, which was generally difficult with her breast size. “Ava Garibaldi, she’s my—”
    Maxie turned to Jax before she could finish. “I want one just like that, made to look like I have a rack, boob job worthy. Good ones like Lane.”
    “You can’t be serious! All I asked—”
    The two squared off and bickered back and forth loudly.
    Nate made eye contact with her and shook his head as the argument between his brother and fiancée elevated.
    “According to the terms of my house arrest,” Maxie’s said, her voice rising, “I cannot associate with wanted criminals, which you are now one of, and I cannot be—”
    “All right, enough!” Nate shouted over the both of them. “You.” He turned his fiancée around and gave her behind a playful swat. “Go get some sweats for Lane.” Nate pointed at his brother. “And you, get Maxie the damn shirt she asked for.”
    “Ah, man, Ava is the worst at negotiating,” Jax grumbled like a four-year-old.
    “Don’t care. She asked you nicely, and you guys will be family soon.”
    “That’s right, brat, family!” Maxie called over her shoulder.
    “Serial killer,” he threw back.
    Nate held out his hand for Lane. “Come, I’m almost positive Maxie can find something for you to tumble around in.”
    Unsure whether to go or not, she took a glimpse at Jax. So far his family meet and greet had dissolved into the Hatfields and McCoys.
    “Go on, honey, she doesn’t bite.” Jax encouraged her with a nod.
    “Well, she does bite,” Nate whispered in her ear when she allowed him to take her arm. “But just a little and always in the right spot.” His brother chuckled and led her through the mini-McMansion of condominiums.
     
    ***
     
    “Block! Block!”
    Lane circled the boxing ring with her arms in front of her face. Two days ago her life had been semi-normal, but the seams of reality had torn apart. Apparently, self-defense meant avoid people’s fists.
    She wasn’t positive who continued to hit her. A friend of Maxie’s she believed but couldn’t be sure. She was too busy defending herself from pain. It was just her bad luck the condominium had a workout facility in the building.
    “Do you think a killer is gonna give you a timeout, girl, cover your face!” Maxie yelled from the other side of the ropes. A couple of Maxie’s well-toned friends tried to coach Lane to protect her assets.
    “I fail to see what boxing has to do with—” Bam!   She took a hit to the chin. Stars would have been nice, but everything went dark before she could see those shiny lights. “Oh, God!”
    The rank smell of chemicals hit her nose the same time Maxie’s perfect heart-shaped face came into her line of vision. She almost jumped out of her skin.
    “She’s okay!” Maxie hollered and took the vial of smelling salts from under her nose. “You didn’t block,” Maxie scolded before reaching down to help her up. “We can’t go any further with your lesson until you learn defense.”
    “A perpetrator wouldn’t give me the opportunity to put up my dukes.” Lane tried to shake the ringing out