Free The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked) by Sidney Bristol Page B

those put in, didn’t you?”
    He glanced up at his best fighter, Mike “The Mouse”, glad to see him on time for once. “Yeah, yesterday. I think I’m going to call the cops.” He rose, cradling the camera in his shirt. The bundle slapped against his stomach as he and Mike headed for the double doors leading into the gym.
    “You know, Jacob was talking about some of the locals not liking us much.”
    “Can’t help that.” The locals he referred to were members of the tight-knit Korean community. The previous owners had allowed the place to fall into disrepair and debt. He was creating something new. He wished they’d share his vision for something better.
    Quin stepped through the doors and shivered in the sudden blast of cool air. Goose bumps broke out along his shoulders and down his arms. He wasn’t playing freeze out, but even with the air conditioner set at seventy-seven, it was cold in comparison with outside. The gym still had that new out of the box plastic smell.
    When he bought the building, it was in foreclosure. The floor mats were rotted and the bags stitched and duct-taped back together. The weight equipment was mismatched and repaired, or left in a corner to gather dust and take up space. He’d cleared it out and begun all over.
    The opening of the gym should have been a momentous occasion, especially after his less than amicable parting from Greg. He had a stable of mixed martial arts fighters to train and a healthy clientele that wanted access to his equipment. When he had his feet under him, he wanted to start offering classes for the recreational fighter.
    There were plenty of guys who wanted to throw a few punches without stepping into the MMA octagon, and several women had called to see if he hosted self-defense classes or even children’s activities. Those weren’t avenues of business he’d anticipated, but they made sense, especially in a godforsaken state that doubled as an oven. Kids couldn’t play outside without running the risk of heat stroke or stepping in a crack in the ground and breaking a leg.
    He dumped the camera in a box in his office and sank down in the mesh ergonomic chair. His shoulder burned from where Kellie’s nails had gouged tracks into his skin, and he had a bad case of carpet burn on his legs. Damn, she was the most interesting woman he’d met in years. And he’d lied to her.
    A knock at his door brought his chin up. One of his new regulars stood half in his doorway. Though he couldn’t recall her name, he did remember that the dark-skinned woman with the neatly trimmed halo of wiry black hair was a Dallas cop.
    “Hey, what’s up?” He stood and came around the desk, his hand outstretched. He added a smile as an afterthought.
    “Hi, Quin.” She took his hand in a firm shake and thumbed over her shoulder with her other hand. “Have you seen the women’s locker room?”
    His stomach sank. “No. Can you show me?”
    “Sure.” She turned and led him to the remodeled locker rooms. She stuck her head in. “Anyone in here?”
    No answer.
    He held the door and followed her in. On the left, bathrooms and sinks lined two walls. On the other, lockers formed U-shaped sections every ten feet. It was noticeably warmer in the women’s locker room than it had been in the gym.
    She walked to the far end, where a short hallway led to the showers. “I didn’t notice it right away. But I came in here to wash off, and that’s when I saw the busted-out window.”
    He groaned and stepped into the shower room. The fogged glass was shattered and spray paint decorated the opaque shower doors.
    “Thanks,” he remembered to say after a moment.
    “I didn’t see any other damage, but you might want to report this. I can call someone.”
    Quin shoved his hands through his hair. He had no idea who would do this. He’d been grasping at straws when he went to see Kellie in the first place; now he had nothing.
    “Yeah, please. I would appreciate it.”
    Someone really