Free Damaged and the Bulldog by Bijou Hunter Page A

differently. For one thing, I realized Nick wasn’t
so different than me.
    We both lacked friends in Ellsberg, both seeming incapable
of bonding with people for very long. We both had daddy issues. I also sensed
anger in Nick that he held at bay. Most days, I struggled to do the same with
my rage.
    Having a late lunch at a small Italian place, Nick
checked out the menu.
    “I used to eat whatever I wanted when I was fighting
and training all the time. Can’t do that anymore. I still work out in Kirk’s
home gym and I stop by the Reapers’ gym a few times a week. Otherwise, I’m a
lazy fuck. Bailey keeps reminding me how fucking burns a lot of calories too.”
    Grinning, I asked, “Do you miss fighting?”
    “No. Not even a little bit. Once I was done getting
punched in the face a few nights a week, I was just done.”
    “You were really good. What did you do with all
the…inspiration you used to kick asses?”
    Nick shrugged. “Bailey keeps me centered. I was mostly
fighting for the money. Now I work for you.”
    As I thought about the Thunderdome, Nick glanced up
from the menu.
    “You ever consider fighting? You handled yourself well
when my dad and his shithead friends showed up.”
    “Yeah, I thought about it. Not for the money though.”
    “To see if you’d win? A lot of guys want to know if
they could handle themselves, but I guess you already know.”
    “I worry if I fight I might like it too much.”
    Nick wanted me to explain, but the waitress arrived
and took our order. Once we were alone, he focused on me.
    “There is something liberating about beating the shit
out of an asshole,” Nick said.
    “No doubt. I did like fighting your dad and his
friends.”
    Nick studied me and I shrugged. “Sometimes, I have a
ball of rage in me. I worry if I really let it loose I wouldn’t be able to reel
it back in.”
    Nick ran his hand through his dark hair and considered
his words. “Look, I’m not trying to sell fighting to you. It’s an ugly and
dirty business. You don’t need the money and have nothing to prove. I will say
the rage you feel is something you control every day. If you couldn’t control
that anger, you’d have lost it by now. I should know. I spent most of my life
hating everyone around me. Hell, I even hated myself. I used the hate to win a
fight then I’d pulled it back inside. With Bailey, the hate doesn’t bother me.”
    Nick drank half of his glass of water then continued,
“Mostly because she’s helped me stop seeing me the way my asshole dad did. I
see me the way she does and I’m calmer. I sense your problem isn’t about
self-worth though.”
    I shook my head. “Living a soft life left me feeling
edgy. I can’t really explain it, but I crave the hard edges,” I said then
sighed. “I’m sure I sound like a pampered ass to you.”
    “Yeah, but I deal with that shit with Cooper and
Tucker all the time.”
    Smirking, I leaned back. “Do you plan to join the
club?”
    “No,” he said immediately. “They’re my family, but I’m
not stepping into their life. Not like that. If I have to die or kill to
protect my family, I will, but I can’t agree to join a life in the one percent.
I like riding a Harley, but that doesn’t make me biker material.”
    “True. So things are good with Bailey?”
    “Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”
    Smiling, I didn’t answer.
    When I said nothing, Nick grunted. “Yeah, Bailey has a
mouth. I happen to find her bitching and moaning entertaining.”
    “Well you’d have to, wouldn’t you?”
    Nick grinned. “She’s sweet too. People don’t see that
because of how obnoxious she can be, but the showing off crap is her defense
mechanism. When we’re alone, she’s rarely obnoxious. Mostly, she wants to know
I’m happy. How the hell can a guy not love that?”
    Messing with my straw, I nodded. “I should know people
aren’t usually what they show to the world. My father seems like a nice guy,
but he’s a real fuckwit.”
    “Glad