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take jujitsu classes together?” Knox
     asked.
    “No. He was always way more advanced than me. Our dad didn’t feel the same need to
     push me into it like he did Ronin. Our mother is the one who insisted I train—probably
     preparing me to spar with my grandfather.” She paused. “But once when I was about
     five I asked Ronin to practice with me.”
    “What happened?”
    “He kicked me so hard—on accident—that he broke two of my ribs. He felt horrible.
     So horrible that he agreed to play dolls with me every day until I was better.” Shiori
     shot him a sideways glance. “And no, you cannot tell Sensei Black you know that story.”
    Knox grinned. “No worries. I played dolls with my sisters, too, and I was a helluva
     lot older than eight.”
    “Done!” a towheaded boy in the front row yelled.
    “Good job, Dylan. Now you get to come up front and pick what we do next.” Knox leaned
     down and whispered in his ear.
    His ease with younger kids didn’t surprise her, since the man got along with everyone.
    Including you?
    Yes. They’d forged an unspoken truce yesterday after Knox had knocked Deacon down
     a peg, proving he could lead.
    Now if they could just get through the last day of the week without incident, she
     might believe—just might—they’d survive the next nine weeks.
    *   *   *
    IN the locker room Friday night, Fee asked Shiori, “You coming to Diesel with us?”
    “Who’s us?” Although she hadn’t seen Knox since she’d arrivedto teach that afternoon, Zach had mentioned Knox was in the Crow’s Nest, getting an
     overview of the classes.
    “Black Arts and ABC’s finest. It’s Friday night and I’m on the prowl.”
    Shiori pulled the ponytail holder out and shook her hair free. “Had any luck finding
     prey?”
    “Last month I met a bull rider from Brazil. Sweet. Kind of shy until I bought him
     a few shots. We ended up going back to his hotel and
ay caramba
. He was built, hung like a bull, and knew how to use his hips.” She sighed. “I loved
     that he talked dirty. Made me realize how much I missed hearing my language in those
     intimate moments.” Fee gave her a curious look. “What about you?”
    “Japanese men aren’t exactly known for dirty talk. So I prefer American guys.” Shiori
     smiled. “Not just the ones who can talk dirty, but the guys who know how to act down
     and dirty.”
    “Plenty of those at Diesel. So what’dya say?”
    “I’m in. Is Katie coming?”
    Fee’s eyes narrowed. “What do you have against Katie?”
    Besides the fact she’s a decade younger, a foot taller, and she’s a blond amazon with
     big tits?
“I hate that she literally hangs on the Black Arts instructors when we go out.”
    “The guys might’ve invited her,” Fee warned. “She’s fun and generous in buying drinks.
     She hangs on the guys because she’s a born flirt. It comes to her as naturally as
     breathing. Best thing to do is ignore it.”
    “You’re jumping to her defense? Last I knew you wanted to bitch-slap her into next
     week—your words, Fee, not mine. So what changed?”
    She smeared on frosted pink lipstick. “She’s really trying to make Black and Blue
     Promotions into a larger entity. She’s smarter than anyone gives her credit for—especially
     my pigheaded brother and yours. Neither Ronin nor Blue gives her ideas any consideration.I feel for her because I suspect she’s been dealing with that attitude her whole life.”
    “What makes you say that?” Shiori asked.
    “I heard a phone call between her and her big-money big daddy. He was a total asshole
     to her. I saw her crying afterward. It just . . . gave me a different impression of
     her. She struggles like the rest of us with all the family shit.”
    Of course Fee played on the one thing that would earn Shiori’s sympathy. “Fine. I’ll
     give her another chance.”
    “That oughta keep her on the straight and narrow, because you scare the crap out of
     her.”
    Shiori flashed