Free Perfectly Protected (Addicted To You, Book Three) by Lucy Covington Page B

the Hatch Shell, an area where there were often free concerts and stuff like that.
    There was a small bridge that Gilbert had been known to sleep under when he was using and didn’t have any place to sleep at night. Maybe when he wasn’t able to contact me last night, Gil had finally given up and gone to the bridge. I became convinced, as I got closer, that I’d find him under there, still asleep.
    Maybe he’d just gotten drunk or something. He didn’t necessarily have to have done heroin or anything. Hell, maybe he’d just smoked a bunch of weed.
    Part of me knew better, because I’d known Gil way too long to fool myself. And yet, somehow, I still had hope.
    When I got to the bridge, there was a steep hill to walk down to get under it and see if he was hiding down there, curled up, maybe in a sleeping bag or something. So I started walking, already craning my head to see if I could spot any movement from under the bridge. I didn’t pay enough attention to my foot placement, however, and suddenly I was falling, hitting the ground hard and rolling down the hill.
    I ripped my jeans and scraped my hands before I finally came to a stop at the bottom. I had dirt all over my clothes and hands but I wasn’t hurt.
    Worst of all, there was nothing beneath the bridge but some empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and an old newspaper. It smelled faintly of piss.
    I got up, cursing and brushing at the dirt on my pants.
    And then, as if on cue, my cell rang. Part of me hoped it would be Gilbert, but the other part was hoping it was Lindsay. It was neither.
    I looked at the caller ID and saw COACH.
    “Shit.” I knew Coach Jansen would still be mad as hell, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with him right then. But I had no choice. I answered the phone.
    “Hey, Coach.”
    “You need to get down to the gym right now. How long will it take you?”
    “Right now?”
    “Yes. How long?”
    I sighed, thinking. “I don’t know—maybe twenty minutes.”
    “Fine. Hurry the hell up. Drew Ellis from the UFF is here and he’s looking for you.”
    I was speechless. But it didn’t matter, because Coach Jansen had already hung up on me.

    ***
    When I got to the gym, it was crazy busy. Maybe word had gotten around that Drew Ellis was there, because there normally weren’t this many guys working out at this time of day.
    But whatever the reason, the place was packed. Guys sparring, people grappling on the blue mats, a few others hitting the heavy bag.
    Meanwhile, from the corner of the room, Drew Ellis and Coach Jansen stood watching the action. They saw me come in, and Drew Ellis nodded with a pleased grin on his face.
    I started towards them.
    When I got there, Drew looked me over and started chuckling. “You look like you just fell off a fucking turnip truck, Brown. Christ.”
    He glanced at Jansen, and Coach Jansen just rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me, I have no idea what he’s been up to.”
    “Let me guess—mud wrestling,” Drew said, glancing at my pants and laughing.
    “I fell on my way over here,” I said.
    “Uh huh,” he replied, chuckling some more.
    I’d never even met Drew Ellis before, but I felt like I knew him. The outspoken CEO of the UFF was all over the media -- he was the face and voice of the organization.
    He was short and stocky, but built like a drill sergeant, with a thick neck and a round head that sported a military cut. Despite the fact that he’d never met me, I wasn’t surprised that he was busting my balls. He was known for that sort of thing.
    “I got here as quickly as I could,” I said. “If I’d known there was a dress code, I would have made sure to grab my tux.”
    “I’m pretty sure you don’t own a tux. I’m willing to bet you don’t even own a goddamn tie,” Drew said.
    “Anyway, nice to meet you.” I held out my hand and he shook it.
    “So what’s going on, Brown? Are you ready to make a run at greatness or what?”
    “Completely ready.”
    He looked at me, some