“Bullshit. Tell me.”

Riggins’s sharklike smile sent chills up Deacon’s spine. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He pushed off the wall. “Now I really need a damn drink.” And he walked away.

Beck looked at Riggins’s retreating back. “Ever get the feeling you’ve been completely wrong about someone and it’s about to bite you in the ass?”

“Yeah. I used to think Ronin was the scariest motherfucker in the dojo. No more.”

Ronin and Amery were gathering the Black Arts crew.

Beck said, “Come on. Showtime.”

The instructors were lined up in the first row on the stage, behind Ronin. The fighters and Katie were in the back row.

The three hundred people in the room actually quieted down when the head of PR took the podium.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the International Mixed Martial Arts magazine MMA expo!” Polite applause. “This kickoff party is sponsored by Black and Blue Promotions and Black Arts, based out of Denver, Colorado. Rather than read the impressive list of instructors and fighters associated with Black Arts, I’ll introduce Sensei Ronin Black, eighth-degree jujitsu master, who owns and operates both businesses.” She faced him and bowed. “Hachidan Black, the floor is yours.”

Thunderous applause echoed throughout the space. “Thank you.” Ronin faced the audience and began to speak.

The man, for being borderline antisocial, was a compelling speaker. After he hit the high points of his speech, he started introductions, beginning with ABC, the role Blue had in ABC and Black and Blue Promotions, and then ABC’s instructors.

Next he introduced the Black Arts instructors.

Deacon watched the growing buzz rippling through the crowd as they heard the impressive credentials of those affiliated with Black Arts.

Then came time for Ronin to turn the microphone over to Maddox. “Last year Black Arts was able to bolster its fledgling MMA program by hiring the best trainer in the business. Maddox Byerly.”

Maddox whispered to Ronin and clapped him on the back before he spoke. “It’s been a humbling experience to work with that man day in, day out. Sensei Black lives the philosophy he teaches. He has the highest standards, not only for his instructors and students, but for anyone who is affiliated with Black Arts in any way. As Hachidan Black mentioned, Black Arts had an existing MMA program before he handed me the keys to the training room. I inherited a small but powerful roster of fighters. Let’s start with the ladies. Or should I say lady—the lone female MMA fighter on our roster—who is representing Black Arts tomorrow night at the expo. She is a third-degree black belt in Brazilian jujitsu, she is an instructor at ABC, and her smile is nearly as deadly as her arm bar. I present Sophia ‘Stinger’ Curacao.”

Wild applause and wolf whistles as Fee stepped forward and waved to the crowd.

“Our MMA middleweight fighter is a third-degree black belt in jujitsu, an instructor at Black Arts, a Muay Thai devotee, a championship kickboxing contender, and a former wrestler. His professional record, in the past three years, of thirty-eight wins and two losses speaks for itself. Let’s hear it for Deacon ‘Con Man’ McConnell!”

Equally loud applause rippled through the room.

Rig and Knox moved aside so Deacon could step forward and wave to the crowd.

Then Maddox went on to introduce the remaining roster and the training specialists, mentioning Ito—the only instructor who’d opted not to come.

During the introductions, Deacon scanned the crowd for Molly. He saw Amery in the front row. Presley stood off to the side. But he hadn’t seen Molly since he’d first walked in.

Where the hell was she?

“Thank you, everyone, for your attention,” Ronin said. “If you have any questions about Black and Blue Promotions or Black Arts, there are brochures on the tables with contact information. Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

Thank fuck he could get out of here now and find his woman.

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Before you run off, I think I can convince both Smackdown and Bellator to send reps to the Needham fight next week. I’m meeting with them tonight.”

Deacon scanned the crowd for Molly’s shiny brown hair. “So?”

Maddox stepped in front of him. “So, show a little enthusiasm.”

“Why? These guys get a fighter all fired up, thinking their life is about to change. Then the organization ‘forgets’ to send a scout. I’ve seen fighters devastated because some dude in a suit wasn’t ringside. I don’t put my faith in anything besides my ability to fight.”

“I want this shot for you, Deacon. You deserve this more than any man I’ve ever known. Lots of fighters have the skills to get to the top, but you, my friend, have the heart of a champion.” Maddox walked off, leaving a dumbfounded Deacon staring after him.