Bad Liar

Chapter Nine

After her meeting with her father, Billie felt enraged and there was no constructive place for the anger to go. She needed an outlet. Billie pulled into the garage and with one look, Carlos was by her side.

"Hey, what's happened? What is it?"

"You must be the only person who doesn't know." Billie got out and reached back into her car to pull out the paper. She shoved it at Carlos's chest. "The bastard set me up. He must have known there was a photographer in that alley."

A stream of expletives poured out of Carlos's mouth as he stared at the picture. Quentin had Billie locked in his embrace, and Billie was kissing him passionately upon the balcony, but what he knew hurt Billie most was the headline which read, "The Ice Queen Billie Dupree Finally Thawed Out by Smokin' Hot Playboy Quentin Harrison."

Carlos saw red. "Get to the gym, Billie. I'll meet you there. I just need to find someone to cover my shift."

Billie nodded. That was one of the things she loved about Carlos. She never had to explain herself to him. He immediately understood what she needed. She kissed his cheek and he smiled.

"Go!" Carlos waved her off with the paper in his hand.

Billie nearly sprinted to her apartment. A quick change and she was ready. She grabbed the bus and got to Johnny G's gym in Brooklyn. Billie walked in, threw down her bag, and sat on the bench while she wrapped up her hands.

It hurt. Bad. This situation brought back so many memories and feelings she thought she buried. How dare he?! Quentin said he wanted to help her. Billie got up and swung at the heavy bag with a vengeance. How could she be so irresponsible?

Was he behind there being a photographer in the alley? It was his suggestion to find a back way out of the co-op. Was his plan to appear innocent while manipulating the entire event? Billie pummeled the body bag and refused to stop swinging, just like the picture of them kissing refused to stop playing in her mind.

It didn't help that the photographer captured her neediness perfectly. It looked like Billie was the aggressor, not Quentin. That must have been his M.O. when he kissed her in the way that he had.

Billie could feel several eyes locked on her as she beat the crap out of the heavy bag. Yeah, she was mad, and she didn't give a damn who knew.

The owner of the gym came up behind the bag to hold it in place. "Hey kid, take it easy on the equipment, will ya? Some of this stuff is as old as me. Need to talk it out?"

Billie shook her head no. Johnny's expression held the wisdom of a man who has seen it all and knew what she needed. "Okay, let's do this then."

He started to instruct her on the proper way to hit the bag, and Billie kept swinging until she had to stop to catch her breath. She leaned over, her sore hands on her knees.

"Feel better?" Johnny asked.

"I'm getting there," Billie got out between pants.

"I don't envy the boy that got you this riled up," Johnny said with a grin. "Get in the ring."

Billie looked up at him surprised. "Did I stutter, girl? In the ring, now!"

Billie got up to the ring and climbed between the ropes, having no idea what she was doing there. She watched as Johnny snapped his fingers at someone and one of the lightweight class boxers had grabbed some sparring gear.

Johnny got into the ring. "You need a target? Now you got one," he said as he helped her put on her gloves and headgear. "You're Carlos's girl, right?"