“He’s going through a messy divorce. TGL wanted to ‘brand’ him and then use that as a selling point to franchise TGL.” At Knox’s blank look, Gil clarified. “Like the Gracie Method in Brazilian jujitsu. TGL called it the Maddox Effect.”

“Jesus.”

“Maddox hates that corporate mentality. He wants to train individual fighters, not be responsible for a style of fighting.”

“How do you know all this?”

Gil’s lips tightened. “Because he’s married to—soon to be divorced from—my psycho sister, Roxanna. The split has been a long time coming.”

“Holy shit, man. He’s your brother-in-law?”

“I see the question in your eyes. And yes, Maddox was a long shot to bail ABC out of trouble, but it didn’t come to that. He’s aware of who Ronin is, even when he’s not fully invested in the martial-arts world. So I think the right offer, the chance to relocate and the guarantee he’ll be treated like an individual with autonomy and not a commodity would sway him.”

“You got any sway with him?”

“Some. I got along better with him than with my sister. I actually told him he was fucking crazy to want to be with her. So he knows it’s no bullshit with me.”

Knox’s eyes narrowed. “So why aren’t you aligning Maddox with ABC?”

“Because Blue can’t afford him. Ronin Black can. And if Maddox is under the Black Arts umbrella . . .”

“Then chances are good he’ll be working with ABC fighters too.”

Gil grinned.

“You’re a sneaky bastard.”

He laughed. “There is a devious mind behind these good looks, amazing physique, and Brazilian charm.”

“Snake charmer is more like it,” Deacon said, snagging the chair next to Gil. “What’s going on?”

Knox had gotten so sucked into the conversation with Gil that he’d forgotten Deacon’s dick move. “Where’s Shiori?”

“She went home. Her car service picked her up.”

“Why the fuck did you—”

Gil stood. “I’ve had enough drama for one night. See you guys in the morning.” Gil’s parting shot at Knox was, “Think about what I said.”

As soon as Gil was gone, Deacon started in. “I did you a fuckin’ favor cutting you off with Shiori when I did. You would’ve dry humped her right on the damn dance floor in front of everyone. And while that so what look in your eyes is charming as hell, keep in mind that other instructors from other martial-arts studios hang out here. After the bullshit Ronin went through with Amery, I can’t shake the feeling someone is still gunning for Black Arts. I hope I’m wrong, but in the meantime don’t bump and grind on Ronin Black’s sister in public where anyone can snap a fucking picture of it, okay?”

“I get what you’re saying, but it wasn’t like that between us. It was a nice change that we weren’t trying to knock each other out.”

“Fine. Great. It’s a fuckin’ relief to all of us who have to work with you two that you’ve learned how to deal. But don’t turn the fact you don’t want to kill each other into something more, something it ain’t, something it’ll never be, dig?”

“Why? Did she say something about me?”

“Christ, Knox. Did you really just ask me that? This ain’t third grade.” Deacon laced his hands together and placed them on top of his head. “How long’s it been since you were at Twisted?”

“Two weeks. Why?”

“Go tomorrow night. Beat the shit out of someone and get fuckin’ laid. Then I’ll bet Shiori won’t look so damn appetizing to you.”

Not a bet Knox would take. If he’d been insanely attracted to her even when he wanted to stuff her face into the mat most days, he suspected that attraction wouldn’t fade now.

But in Deacon’s world everything was cut-and-dried. So Knox told him what he wanted to hear. “You’re probably right. Let’s get out of here. We’ve got an early training day tomorrow.”

As they walked toward Deacon’s car, he said, “What were you and Gil talking about? It looked intense.”

He could bounce the idea of hiring Maddox Byerly off Deacon, but he wanted to run it by Shiori first. Get her financial take on it. “His sister is going through a divorce. He just needed someone to talk to.”

“Thank god it was you and not me who got roped into that conversation.”

“One of these days, Deacon, the idea of talking things out with someone won’t send you running toward the nearest strip club for validation that you’ve got balls.”