Free Fight for Her#3 by JJ Knight

says. “I’ll keep the accounts separate. If you decide you never want to see me again, you can just take it over.”
    The sales guy puts on a big fake smile. “You have control of the plan,” he says to me. “The big guy is just paying the bill. You can call and switch payment methods whenever you want.” He hands me the phone.
    “Okay,” I say. That part doesn’t matter right now. I keep the phone in my hand so I’ll know when it starts getting messages through.
    We walk out of the store and through the Forum Shops. Like in the casino, the walls and ceiling are ornate, all resembling Rome. Or at least a fancy gilded version of Rome.
    “You have to be hungry,” Parker says. “You want to stop for something?”
    I’m not, but I say, “Sure.”
    “Should I ask Colt and Jo?”
    I look over at Parker. He seems at a loss at what to do with me. I don’t know what to tell him. I plaster on a smile. “That sounds like a great idea. I like Jo a lot.”
    He seems so relieved, I’m glad I decided to at least try to act normal. Hopefully the longer I act it, the sooner I will start to feel it.
    Colt and Jo are just up the Strip, so we pick a restaurant in between us, one that isn’t likely to be flooded with tourists and families.
    When we walk in the enormous glass doors surrounded with thousands of twinkling white lights, I halt. It’s so fancy. I’m in jeans.
    “Parker, we’re not dressed for this,” I say.
    “We can dress any way we want,” he says. “We’re celebrities.”
    The maître d’ comes from behind his podium to shake Parker’s hand. “Fine fight last night. Excellent shutdown.”
    Parker smiles a little sheepishly. “Thanks.”
    “Mr. McClure is inside already. Let me show you to the table.”
    I run my hands down the sides of my jeans a little nervously. I’m expecting to see nothing but elegant gowns and tuxes inside.
    Which is silly. It’s midafternoon.
    As we pass through the tables, it’s a relief to see people dressed normally. Maybe a little better than us, but not much. A couple of the men stand up when Parker comes by to shake his hand.
    This is really odd. He just won the fight last night. How does everyone know him?
    “You’re on all the news, old man,” Colt says as we come up to his table, tucked in a quiet corner. Jo is wearing jeans too, so I immediately feel better. Her hair isn’t even braided today, but in a plain ponytail.
    “I haven’t turned on a television,” Parker says.
    “Your 22-second takedown is all over the place,” Jo says. “With that viral video Cam made, you’re the talk of MMA.”
    “Welcome to insta-fame, bro,” Colt says.
    The maître d’ pulls out a chair for me and I sit gingerly on it. Another man arrives and spreads a napkin across my lap. I’ve never eaten anyplace that paid this much attention to details.
    Parker plunks down in his seat. “Nobody knows anything about last night, right?”
    “Nary a word,” Colt says. “You got the video?”
    I snap around to Parker.
    “I saw it,” he says.
    “What video?” I ask.
    “A little intimidation we set up for Striker,” Parker says. “It wasn’t much. Just something to remind them to back off. Sam’s big plan.”
    “You want to see?” Colt asks.
    I shake my head. I’m not comfortable with the idea that they are needling those people. They could do anything.
    A third man arrives with a bottle of wine and shows it to Colt. He waves him away. “We’re all training here,” he says. Then he looks at me. “Unless you want it, Maddie.”
    I shake my head. “No, thank you.” My voice wavers.
    “Let’s go take a peek at the bathroom,” Jo says. “You look like you could use a break from the boys, and I’ve heard there’s people in there to wash your hands for you.”
    “Really?” I ask.
    Jo stands up and waits for me. “You boys can order for us. Something decadent that will make you jealous because you can’t have it.”
    She leads me toward a back corner of the