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  RISK

  by Baylin Crow

  RISK by Baylin Crow

  Copyright © 2018 Baylin Crow

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this work are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording or photocopying without written permission from the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

  Any images shown on covers are for illustration purposes only. The characters depicted in this story are not reflective of any models shown.

  Edited by Jae Ashley

  www.jaeashley.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  CONNECT WITH ME

  OTHER TITLES BY BAYLIN CROW

  CHAPTER ONE

  DREW

  “Don’t bother showing up tomorrow, Andrew!” my boss, well ex-boss now, yelled after me, but I was already through the door. I didn’t look back or apologize.

  The walk back to my apartment in the balmy June weather took less than ten minutes. In that time, I’d almost convinced myself to turn around and beg for my job back. Not that it would do any good, and I didn’t beg. Two years I’d been there, gloves deep in soapy water and dirty dishes. God, I’d hated that place.

  Now that I’d cooled off, I was starting to regret my outburst. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

  “Good job, Drew,” I muttered to myself.

  The old, rusty stairs creaked as I made the climb to the second floor of the faded brown brick building. Located in a sketchy part of the city, it wasn’t much to look at, but it was better than where I grew up.

  Before I even opened the door, Tony’s blaring rap music assaulted my eardrums, making me cringe. Giggling, followed by an exaggerated moan, filtered over the music when I stepped inside. Normally that would have annoyed me, but I was grateful Tony had company. I dreaded telling him I’d lost my job. He was a bit of a loose cannon.

  Ignoring the sounds coming from down the hall, I let myself into my room. The space was small and mostly bare—a twin mattress covered in a thin, gray comforter and a scratched dresser I’d found sitting on the curb with a “free” sign stuck to it—but it was the most I’d ever owned.

  After tossing my frayed wallet on the dresser, I collapsed on the bed, my back pressing against the lumpy topper. The springs squeaked in protest as I adjusted the pillow beneath my head. There was only one person I could talk to about what’d happened today, so I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through my recent contacts until I found her number. It rang twice before she answered.

  “Hey, you caught me on my lunch break,” Claire answered, sounding tired.

  “Do you need to call me back?” God, I hoped not. I needed a friend who was on my side after the day I’d had.

  “Nah, it’s okay. I just finished eating. What’s going on with you?”

  I laughed, the sound hollow. “Well, I got fired today.”

  “What happened?” she snapped, sounding instantly awake and ready to punch someone.

  “I couldn’t deal with that idiot anymore. He’s been on my ass for a month now. I don’t even know what his issue is. I come in and I clean up other people’s shit, scrubbing dishes like a boss. Not real sure how I could mess that up.”

  “Really, Drew? A boss?” I’d known her long enough to bet she was rolling her eyes.

  I smiled because I loved annoying her. She was like my little sister. “I was there for two years, Claire. Two. Years. Pretty sure that earns me some sort of title. But for real, that was the only legit job I’ve ever had. I think I screwed up.”

  “So tell me what happened.”

  “I just kept my head down, ignoring him, you know? But today I saw him slap a waitress’s ass. I might have lost my temper and called him a piece of shit. He may have told me I was worthless and had no future. And then I most definitely told him to fuck off.”

  “Well, screw him,” she agreed, because she was awesome and always had my back. “What are you going to do now?”

  “No clue.” I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. “I’m going to get up early and start putting out applications, I guess. What else can I do? Sucks. The only reason I got that job was because of you and that friend of yours.”

  “Yeah, well, she quit for a reason too. This explains a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised you hung in there as long as you did. She said he’s a real piece of work.”

  “That’s an understatement.” I let my arm fall to the bed beside me before my hair became a complete mess.

  She sighed. “You tell Tony yet?”

  I crossed one foot over the other, kicking off my scuffed black boots and letting them fall to the floor. “No, he’s with some girl right now and they’re busy.”

  “Gross.” She gagged.

  “Dude’s got to get his. Leave him alone.” I laughed when she continued making retching sounds. She hated Tony, had ever since he made a pass at her when she came to pick me up one night. His idea of hitting on her had consisted of complimenting her tits and ass. Before I could even step in, my little firecracker had kneed him straight in the balls. He went an entire week without uttering a single word to me.

  “I don’t know who would give it to him without being under the influence of some serious alcohol.”

  “Even if I were into guys, it would take a lot more than alcohol for me to fuck him.” The thought made me cringe.

  “Well, there’s a disturbing thought,” Claire muttered. “On the other hand, I can’t believe you’re thinking about screwing around with guys. You keeping secrets, Everly?”

  “Shut up. You know that’s not what I…”

  Tony’s door opened, banging against the wall, and two sets of feet padded down the hall. The thin walls provided no barrier to their conversation as he told the girl it was time for her to go and he’d call her. He wouldn’t. He never did. The girl was in the middle of cursing him when the door slammed shut. Fucking asshole.

  “You still there?” Claire asked, drawing me back to our conversation.

  “Yeah, sorry. His company just left. Well, more like he kicked her out.”

  “See what I mean? I can’t stand that guy.”

  “I know. He’s gonna be pissed too. My last check will be on Friday, and it wasn’t even a whole week. They’d been cutting back hours too.” And the manager had come after my hours first.

  “You didn’t tell me that,” she huffed.

  “I was handling it.” The last thing I wanted was for Claire to worry about me. She’d had to deal with enough stuff growing up and had finally made a life for herself.

  “How were you paying your probation fees?” she asked, her tone drenched in frustration.

  “Same as always. Just penny-pinching.”

  “I wish you’d told me. I would ha
ve helped you out.”

  I shook my head and then remembered she couldn’t see me. “You’ve helped too much as it is.”

  “Drew—”

  I cut her off. “Don’t start. None of it was your fault. You need to get that out of your head.”

  “At least it’s over now,” she mumbled.

  Two years of probation was finally over. I was a free man.

  “Drew!” Tony shouted and banged on my door “Hey, man, open up. I need to talk to you.”

  “Oh my God, I can hear him. What an ass. Good luck with that,” she fumed. “I gotta get back to work. Come by and get some coffee later?”

  “Definitely. Thanks, Claire Bear.”

  “Anytime, Everly.”

  I ended the call before grudgingly getting up and opening the door. “What’s up?”

  “Hey, I heard you come in. I thought you were supposed to be at work today,” he said as he tucked a greasy brown strand of hair behind his ear. He sounded bored, but there was an edge of irritation.

  “Yeah, I was.” I folded my arms over my chest and waited for him to get to the point.

  He studied me for a minute and shrugged. “Whatever. Are you going to have rent by Friday? Jimmy put a note on the door today. Says he won’t take a late payment again.”

  My eyes closed, and I took a deep breath. This day just wouldn’t quit. “I’m trying to see what I can do. I don’t know if I’ll have it all by next Friday though.” Actually, I wouldn’t, but I’d learned a long time ago I had to look out for myself, so I lied.

  “What do you mean, man? I’m not going to cover your half.” He gave me a once-over. “Why aren’t you at work if you aren’t going to have the money?”

  Stepping back, I sat on the bed. “I got let go today.”

  “You got let go?” He gave me a blank look.

  I regarded him warily, knowing I might have just gotten myself in a tight spot, and nodded. “Yep. Fired. Let go. Released from employment.”

  You’d think after over three years we’d have grown somewhat close, but the truth was we’d never clicked. Just coexisted. And lately I’d suspected I wasn’t wanted at all, but I paid half the bills, so I was useful to him. “But I’m going out in the morning to look for another job. I just don’t know if I’ll have the money in time. I’m working on it.”

  “This is bullshit,” he exploded, throwing his hands in the air as his face turned an ugly shade of red. “I’m not paying your rent, Drew.”

  I tried to remind him I was going to look for a job tomorrow, but he cut me off and pointed a finger in my face.

  “You need to be gone by the time I get home tomorrow.”

  I’d expected a bad reaction, but kicking me out? Hadn’t seen that coming. Honestly, when I’d been arrested, I’d thought I’d come home only to find I didn’t have a place to live. But as long as I continued to pay, he didn’t care what I did or even how I made my money. My arrest had put an end to my less legit, under-the-table income streams, and now that I was out from under probation, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was doing anything shady. Broke or no.

  “Are you serious?” I sputtered.

  He’d already turned to leave. I followed him down the hall. He grabbed his phone and keys from the kitchen table, then paused with the door open and glanced over his shoulder.

  “Very,” he said right before slamming the door shut behind him.

  The fact that the apartment was in Tony’s name meant I had no leverage. There was no contract or paperwork to help me out. I reached up and yanked on my overlong, dark blond hair that was in desperate need of a cut, my stress level skyrocketing.

  Grabbing a ratty backpack I’d had since high school from the shoebox closet, I tossed in the few clothes I had. My pencils and sketch paper went in next. I wrapped a framed photo of me and Claire in a T-shirt and placed it on top. That was it. My entire life in one backpack.

  I stuffed my feet back in my boots, shoved my phone in my back pocket, and scanned the remaining contents of the room. I couldn’t take the furniture with me and I had nowhere to store it, so on my way out, I wrote a note to Tony.

  The furniture is yours.

  Without a backward glance, I walked out for the final time. I pulled my pre-paid cell phone from my pocket and sent Claire a text, letting her know that I’d be there sooner than I’d thought.

  The diner was three blocks away, pretty much dead center between her apartment and mine, so it didn’t take me long to reach it on foot. When I stepped inside, I immediately found her delivering drinks to a table where two elderly men were seated. Her jet-black hair braided to the side showed part of a dragonfly tattoo inked on the back of her neck. As she turned, she spotted me and smiled before her eyes dropped to the backpack over my shoulder. She glared at the offending object.

  I met her halfway.

  “That asshole kicked you out?” she demanded.

  “Yup, I’m now your homeless best friend.” I tried to joke, but it fell flat.

  She frowned. “You will never be homeless. You’ll come stay with me, of course, like you should have every other time I’ve offered.”

  “You finally have your own place. I didn’t want to take that away from you. Still don’t,” I mumbled.

  She rolled her eyes. “Stop being dramatic. You are not a burden.”

  “Well, if you’re not giving me a choice…” I smiled down at her rounded face.

  “I’m not.” Her golden-brown eyes twinkled and a warm smile crossed her face.

  “Only until I get something worked out,” I insisted and waited for her to agree.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Fine, but no other shit hole like Tony’s.”

  I shrugged. “Not sure I can make that promise, but I’ll see what I can do. Have to find a job first.”

  “Well, come sit down.” She led me to a table in her section. “Coffee, black?”

  I made a face and she laughed. “You’re a man. Men drink black coffee.”

  “This one definitely doesn’t. ’Cause, gross.”

  “Girly coffee it is,” she teased and bounced away.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ASHER

  “I said no.” My hand stung as it landed against the oversized mahogany desk in my manager’s office. “I’ve done what you asked and gone on countless dates with these women. And I’ll continue doing it if there isn’t another way. But I will not pretend one is my girlfriend. You’re asking for a whole other commitment.”

  Jerry’s watery eyes narrowed. “Asher, I understand your issues with it, but I’m asking you to consider what’s at stake.” His relaxed position, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped over his belly contrasted starkly to the rigid way I sat in the chair across from him.

  “Like my pride? Dignity? Haven’t I wrecked that enough?” I leaned forward and pressed my hands to his desk, the edges biting into my palms. “And now you want more. I need a girlfriend? For what?” I shook my head. No fucking way.

  “Your career,” he barked, and I glared. The aging man was smart enough to soften his tone. “Blaire is perfect for this. She’s the daughter of a movie star power couple. She knows this world better than even me. Celebrities do it all the time. If you want this”—he leaned forward and lifted the latest magazine with my face on the cover and let it fall back to the surface—“to go away, you’re going to have to do more. These public outings are helping, but it’s time to do something more drastic. Having a girlfriend will help.” He sighed while rubbing his long slender nose. “With that magazine printing those pictures again, it really is best—”

  A growl ripped free from my throat cutting him off. “And when I shackle myself to her…what? Everyone just forgets about this whole scandal bullshit? The pictures vanish?” I shot him an incredulous look and sank back into my seat.

  Why did he continue to think it was going to help for me to take a woman out, show her a good time, while he tipped off the paps just so our pictures could be posted by every nosy gossip rag out t
here? The photos of me entering that gay club were still circulating eight months later. The problem was, I didn’t have a better idea and this was his job. “I’m not going to pretend I have a girlfriend, Jerry. You’re good at your job. If you want to keep it, figure out something else.”

  His eyes widened and he gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white. Good, he needed to worry. His career was dependent on mine, so his concern was mainly for himself. If my contracts went belly up, he’d have to start over—probably lose his fancy loft and his twenty-year-old girlfriend.

  I’d almost fired him before because I couldn’t stand him, but then my personal life had become front page news. He’d convinced me then that outing myself would be a career-ending blow and had spent hours upon hours trying to clean up the mess. So far he’d done a decent job counteracting the gossip, but one more push about this relationship thing and his ass was fired.

  I wanted to train and fight and…win. I hadn’t signed up to be whatever celebrity the press had turned me into. If it hadn’t been for the photos someone had taken of me without my knowledge, I’d still just be a fighter instead of a featured entertainment piece. Ridiculous.

  Jerry stared at me as if mulling over his options. He might think I’d cave, but he was wrong. So far we’d created enough doubt that none of my sponsors or endorsements had pulled out of their deals. Hell, even the title fight I was preparing for hadn’t been affected. I was doing enough as it was. Then that stupid article had run this morning, prompting a call from Jerry and an emergency meeting.

  He tilted his head to the side and ran a finger over his jaw as he studied me.

  Looking him directly in the eye, my voice held firm as I broke our silence. “I’m not budging on this one. You want to set up a date? Fine. But I’m not claiming to be in a relationship with anyone. It’s that or nothing.” I sat back in the chair, attempting to look far more relaxed than I felt.

  He exhaled, long and defeated. “Fine. It’s your career. I think you’re making a mistake, but I won’t bring it up again.”