Outlaws, Matt Rogers [best ereader under 100 TXT] 📗

on one elbow so he could face her.

Violetta finished redressing and assumed a seated position on the mattress, feet crossed, back perfectly straight. A few locks of blond hair fell over her face, and she tucked them firmly behind her ear. Her cheeks were still flushed from the morning’s activities. He was shirtless — besides a lengthy visit to a Gracie jiu-jitsu gym later in the evening, he had no commitments for the rest of the day. He was supposed to still be in Moscow, so his ordinary schedule had been cleared. He’d resume his training, maybe call in K-1 kickboxing legend Rory Barker for some pad work, but outside of that there was nothing urgent that needed addressing.

For most, a physically exhausting, mentally gruelling regime.

For King, far slower than usual.

He said, ‘Did Slater give anything away?’

Violetta shook her head. Her blue eyes flared with curiosity, and he knew she was personally invested in what awaited. It wasn’t just for the job. She’d come to know Slater closer than almost anyone else in his life save Alexis and King. They had their professional disagreements, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Slater disagreed with almost everyone. Overall, King knew he respected her. He trusted her deeply, too. Which was why he’d gone to her first.

She said, ‘How do you feel about this?’

He cocked his head.

‘He hasn’t spoken to you about it, has he?’

King shrugged. ‘We just work together.’

‘It’s more than that. When you got back from Nepal, he said you were brothers.’

‘Yeah,’ King said. ‘We are.’

‘So why weren’t you his first port of call?’

‘Because this probably has nothing to do with me.’

‘It’s work-related,’ Violetta said. ‘Otherwise I wouldn’t be involved. So, by extension, it involves you.’

‘Are you concerned?’

‘You know how badly he needed time off,’ she said. ‘Have you ever seen him like that before?’

King didn’t immediately answer.

He took a moment to ponder it.

She was right.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I used to think he was incapable of burnout. But maybe he hit a wall. Maybe he depleted his reserves.’

She said nothing.

He looked up. ‘What?’

‘Maybe he depleted them for good.’

King hesitated. ‘He would have said something to me, first.’

‘That’s why I was concerned.’

‘You really think he might be done?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Maybe.’

He went quiet.

She said, ‘What if he is? Hypothetically. How would you react?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I need you to prepare yourself. Because that might be the way this goes.’

King shook his head. ‘He would have told me. I would have picked up on it.’

‘You did pick up on it. Subconsciously. You accepted a dangerous job in his place, a job you didn’t need to accept. Which means you knew how fragile he was. He needed time off. And when you have a foot out the door in this business…’

King’s stomach churned.

Truth was, for the last few days, Slater had been out of sight, out of mind.

The prospect that his mindset had changed so drastically in that time…

Then King reconsidered. It would have been a gradual process. A slow realisation that the world was changing, and his spirit wasn’t keeping up. When you knew you could no longer put your life on the line, there was no way to continue doing what they did.

King said, ‘Go find out.’

She nodded, and went to the bathroom to freshen up.

He sat on the bed, stared out the window, and went into his own head.

He thought about what a future without Slater might look like.

He didn’t like what he saw.

24

Three light knocks at the door.

Slater opened his eyes.

He stood up, went to the entranceway, and glanced through the peephole. An automatic precautionary measure. Violetta was there in the fish-eye lens, her long blond hair tied back, her expression severe.

Work mode.

Slater opened the door, so they could see each other face to face.

Neither said a word.

Then he said, ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

‘Can we … not treat this like work?’

She faintly tilted her head to one side. ‘But this is work.’

‘I know, but…’

He trailed off.

He’d never voiced this before.

He said, ‘You’re just about the only person I trust in this world outside of King and Alexis. And I’d never admit this to anyone I didn’t trust. I’m at a particularly vulnerable time in my life.’

She practically stopped dead in her tracks. She’d been in motion, about to step past him into the entranceway, but now she froze in a double-take. She tried to analyse his face, but he kept his features expressionless. His eyes were stone.

She said, ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘But I don’t know how this is going to go.’

‘You want out?’

Now it was his turn to freeze. He tried his best not to, but it was inevitable. She would have seen the jolt in his eyes, the Oh shit expression, the understanding that she’d been suspecting this all along.

He said, ‘You’d better come inside.’

He ushered her through to the main space, which was practically a carbon copy of King’s residence. There was a shade more exercise equipment, and a little less tasteful decoration, but for the most part the penthouses were identical. Which made sense, considering how similar the men who owned them were.

He dropped onto the sofa and said, ‘I was going to be all stoic about this, but outside of all this, I consider you a friend. So I’ll say it like it is.’

She sat down in the armchair opposite, crossed one leg over the other, and placed both her hands on her top knee. Her face gave nothing away.

Slater said, ‘Is this going to be a problem?’

‘I’m going to need more from you than just a simple “I want out.”’

‘Why?’ he said. ‘What does the reason matter?’

‘Because you didn’t want this to be a work conversation,’ she said. ‘And I consider you a friend, too. So — as a friend — why?’

‘I’ve done enough,’ he said simply.

She nodded. ‘I get it.’

‘You do?’

‘Of course. Who wouldn’t? What you do on a daily basis … the stress that would bear down on you at all times…’

He said, ‘It’s not so