Fine. Fuck Matthias. And that compound fracture was his response: They could take him out but he was going to do some serious damage on his way to the grave.

Isaac didn’t hang around. He popped up onto the links and sprang himself over the lip. Fortunately, the crowd knew better than to get too close, so he was able to quickly head for Jim—

He slammed right into his public defender.

“Christ!” he barked, jumping back from the woman.

“Actually, it’s Childe. With an ‘e.’” She cocked an eyebrow. “Thought I’d try the taxi offer again—you need a ride back to Boston? Or are you not heading in that direction?”

Momentarily forgetting his manners, he bit out, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you the same. Considering that one of the provisions of your bail is that you not participate in illegal cage fighting. And that realllllly didn’t look like a game of Parcheesi you just played. You broke that man’s arm.”

Isaac glanced around, wondering what the quickest way to the door was—because she did not belong in this group of roughnecks and he had to get her out of here. “Look, can we go outside—”

“What are you thinking? Showing up here and fighting?”

“I was going to come to see you.”

“I’m your attorney—I should damn well hope so!”

“I owe you twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“And I’ll tell you how you can settle the score.” She planted her hands on her hips and leaned forward, that perfume of hers getting into his nose . . . and his blood. “You can stop being a stupid ass and show up for your hearing in two weeks. I’ll give you the time and date again, if you’ve forgotten to write it down.”

Okay . . . she was totally hot when she was pissed.

Annnnnnnnd that was so not an appropriate reaction under the time-place doctrine. Among other things.

At that moment, Jim and his boys approached, but Grier didn’t spare them a glance—even though Jim was staring at her hard. And didn’t that give Isaac an idea of what she’d be like in a courtroom. Man, she was incredible when she was focused and angry and ready to serve someone up on a plate.

“Two other things,” she bit out. “You’d better pray that guy whose arm needs to be set in plaster doesn’t call the police. And you need to see a doctor. Again. You’re bleeding.”

Just to fill in the gap, even though there wasn’t one, the promoter came up with what looked like a couple thousand dollars. “Here’s your cut—”

Abruptly, Grier’s eyes turned pleading, even as her beautiful face remained tight. “Don’t take the money, Isaac. And come with me. Do the right thing tonight and it’ll save you a whole lot of misery later. I promise you.”