by Skyla Madi
“A girl,” Jackson mutters. “A sassy little girl who’d give me as much grief as her mother.”
I chuckle to myself as I pop open the vial and place the charm in the locket. “I do love it. Thank you.”
No response. I peer sideways at a sleeping Jackson and smile as his lips part ever so slightly.
“I love you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jackson
Fight night
Thick tendrils of adrenaline burrow their way through my chest as I bounce on the tips of my toes. I’m here in this…this shithole of a place about to fight the biggest fight of my life. I imagined my retiring fight to be in a grand sold-out arena. Instead, it’s in an abandoned warehouse by a mediocre fucking bridge, the crowd consisting of crack addicts, gamblers, thugs, and criminals. I regret inviting Selena and, judging by the glare Seth is sending my way from across the room, he hates me for allowing Selena to bring Olivia. Olivia wanted to come, but Seth refused, so she called Selena instead. I’m not gonna lie. I’ve fought in dirtier places than this. I mean, at least I have my own change room.
Excitement heats my blood and enrages my nerves, filling me with a high I can’t get anywhere else. I push my wrapped hand through my hair and turn away from Darryl, who has spent the last thirty minutes warming me up.
“You’re distracted,” Darryl snaps, whipping off his cap and tossing it across the room.
“Have you heard from Selena?” I ask both of them, storming to the metal door.
“She’s fine,” Darryl says, picking up his hand pads. “She’ll be back any minute now.”
“Provided she didn’t get kidnapped on her way out,” Seth adds, bending his leg at the knee as he leans against the filthy wall.
I whirl on my heel and cut my eyes at him. I’m not worried about Selena getting kidnapped—God knows there’s enough security here, I’m worried about her running into Amelia. I begin to pace back and forth, ignoring Daryl, who insists I keep my heart rate up. I can only imagine the sick, twisted shit Amelia would say to Selena.
“What’d you say happened to your leg again?” Darryl asks and I glance down at the bandage wrapped around my thigh.
“I hurt it doing yard work yesterday.” I shrug. “It’s nothing.”
“I thought you said you hurt it in the kitchen?” Seth asks, cocking his eyebrow in that accusing way that I hate so much.
“Does it matter?”
I lied to the both of them. I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture about getting a tattoo a day before a fight—and trust me, it would have been a long one—so I came up with a different story. Besides, I figured if I keep the fight standing and keep him at a distance, then it should be fine. Lucky for me, Connor Cage prefers to go toe to toe anyway.
“If it’s not going to affect your fight, then it doesn’t matter, but that bandage is a massive target. He’s gonna hit you there.”
I pull my shoulders in and roll my neck. “So?”
“So, do you have any skins you can wear?”
“I might have something in my—”
The heavy metal door cuts me off with a loud clank before it opens. My heart leaps into my throat—in excitement and fear—only for it to sink into the soles of my feet a moment later when a fair-skinned redhead enters my private space. I try not to look at her, but it’s impossible when her short, tight red dress clings to her curves and dips incredibly low between her breasts.
“There he is,” she purrs, placing one stiletto clad foot in front of the other. “The man of the hour.”
Closing the door behind her, Amelia zeros her black, volcanic stare on Seth.
“My, my…Seth Marc.”
Seth grunts his displeasure at seeing her.
“You look better and better every time I see you.”
“I wish I could say the same…” He folds his arms across his chest. “Unfortunately, your face still makes me physically ill.”
She grins, exposing her perfect, blindingly white teeth. “Charming. As always.” Amelia ignores Darryl altogether as she crosses over to me. “I thought I’d come and check on you…see how you’re feeling.”
I flex my fingers. “You don’t care how I’m feeling.”
“Oh. You got me.” Her perfectly manicured brows draw together. “I want to know if you think you’re going to win.”
That’s more like her. “I’ll win.”
She rakes me from head to toe, and the way her stare slides over every inch of me makes me uncomfortable. “What happened to your leg?”
“Backyard—” Darryl says.
“—Kitchen,” Seth adds at the same time.
“It’s none of your business.” I scowl at them before turning it on Amelia. “My leg is fine.”
“It better be.” She moves closer, her perfume engulfing me. “Or neither of your legs will be if you cost me this money.”
I tilt my head, unable to keep the smirk from my lips. “Did you just threaten me?”
“Lose…and you’ll find out.”
The door handle shakes, then clanks, but Amelia doesn’t back off. Neither do I. She seriously doesn’t expect me to take the threat seriously, does she?
“I almost want to throw the fight out of curiosity.”
“Don’t,” she snaps in a whisper, her angry eyes turning soft and pleading. “He’ll hurt us both.”
The door opens with a final clank and I take a step back, not wanting Selena to see us this close. Only the person who enters the room isn’t Selena. Or Olivia. I recognize the man in the well-fitted suit immediately. Cedric Barnes, the casino owner, and the man who made this fight possible. In fact, I do believe he’s putting up the funds for the winner too.
“Darling? Are you done?” His British accent is thick and proper. “The sooner we can get out of here the better.”
“I’m done.” She straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I was just making sure Mr. Quinn knows how important it is for you that Connor Cage loses this fight.”
The gray-haired Brit nods his head as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
“Why is it important to you? It’s a lot of money you’re paying me to win,” I say. “What’d the other guy do?”
He narrows his pale, blue eyes at me. “What Connor Cage did to me is none of your business.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.” He takes Amelia by the elbow and nudges her toward the door. “And this is the last time my wife will be behind a closed door with men by the likes of you.”
My eyes go wide. What? “Wife?”
“She neglected to mention that, did she?” He plants a firm hand on her lower back. “Ironic, considering it’s the reason I’m in this mess in the first place.”
Stepping out of my room, they leave and I glance at Seth. “She’s married?”
“I know, right?” He scratches his head. “Firstly, how’d she get a guy as powerful as Cedric Barnes, and secondly, who in their right mind would want to pair up with that psycho for the rest of their life?”
He’s right, of course, but I know damn well he’s not blind. Amelia’s personality makes her the ugliest woman alive, but that aside, it’s impossible to look past her beauty. That’s how she lures in her victims…with her perfect, plump lips and porcelain skin. It’s almost a shame all that beauty is wasted on such a poisonous soul.
In the next heartbeat, the door swings open and in enters Selena and Olivia. Finally.
Seth pushes off the wall and immediately swallows the distance between him and Olivia. For once, his shoulders are square, and his angry glare is narrowed in on her and not me. They argue in hushed tones as Darryl gives up his cause of keeping me warmed up. He dumps his hand pads and drops himself onto a dodgy stool. Ignoring everyone, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and keeps himself busy.
“It’s almost time.” Selena startles me from the left. I didn’t notice her approach.
I turn to face her. “Is it?”
Tonight, she looks inf
initely beautiful with minimal makeup, and her waves and curls straightened out. Her blonde locks blend well against her low-cut sweater that showcases a very, very nice portion of her rounded breasts. Pushing locks of hair behind her ear, Selena leans close.
“I saw Amelia out in the hall.”
Guilt wraps around my stomach at the mention of her name. I don’t know why. “Yeah. She came to see me…with her husband in tow.”
Her eyes widen. “The guy in the suit? That’s her husband?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, he is not happy with her. He had her in this tight, bruising grip as he growled awful things in her ear.” She frowns. “And not in a kinky way.”
“It’s not our problem.”
“Jackson—”
“What is it?” She flinches at my aggressive tone. I don’t mean to be blunt or rude, but what does she want me to do? “Who cares what her husband is doing to her? That’s her problem.”
Agitation builds up under my ribs, giving me chest pain. What does she want me to do? Why does she want me to get involved? Doesn’t she know by now that woman is bad fucking news? Why does Amelia’s safety and her dignity finally matter to Selena who—let’s be honest—couldn’t care less if Amelia jumped off a damn bridge?
“She looked genuinely worried…and he’s a lot bigger than her.”
I drop my head back with an exhale. “What do you want me to do? He’s running this whole show, Selena. I piss him off and we don’t get paid.”
Or worse, given Amelia’s threat.
Golden rivers of honey flare in the deep depths of Selena’s eyes.
“I don’t want to help her,” she snaps. “But…I want to help her.”
I blink. “Do you hear yourself sometimes?”
She rolls her eyes and tries to turn away from me, but I snag her by her soft sweater. She gasps as I tug her hard against my damp body.
“Amelia is smart,” I tell her. It fucking kills me to say it, but it’s true. “She wouldn’t be in a situation she doesn’t want to be in. Trust me. Everything she says and does is orchestrated to coincide with a foolproof plan. Amelia doesn’t need our help. Believe me.”
Selena swallows and nods. “Okay.” With light fingers, she touches my chest. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay out there?”
I chuckle under my breath. “I’ll be fine.”
“Even with your leg?”
“Even with my leg.”
I can’t wait until after the fight and I can show her what I did. Once, a long time ago, I noticed her admiring this particular tattoo of mine. The spiders in the web that I’d gotten when I was with Amelia. Selena has examined all of my tattoos, but this one she lingers on a lot longer than the others, and I know she knows it symbolizes my time with the coldest, cruelest woman on the planet. Late last night, I had Johnny at the tattoo parlor replace the webbing with red roses and tattoo Selena’s name across the center. Hooked around the letter ‘a’ is a design of the same ring I gave her when I asked her to marry me. The tattoo looks incredible, better than I imagined. I can’t explain how it made me feel when it was done…finally, a horrible, draining period of my life was instantly replaced with something that fills me with love and hope.
Selena
There’s a kind sort of smile to his eyes more often these days. I used to think his troubled frown was the most beautiful thing on his face, but it’s nothing compared to one of his genuine smiles. Those knock the air out of me.
“Almost time,” Darryl shouts from his stool. “You wanna hope you’re ready, boy.”
Jackson shakes his hands and rolls his shoulders. “I am.”
Sweat glistens on his body, even in the poor light, and the dust that rains down from the ceiling coats him in a fine shimmer. I’d hug him if I weren’t so worried about ruining one of my favorite sweaters.
“All right,” Seth announces, storming over to us. On his way, he scoops up Darryl’s pads. “We’ve got eleven minutes.”
I shuffle out of the way as Seth slips into the pads and holds them up for Jackson. The loud slaps ring out as his fists connect over and over and over, sometimes in groups of five or six.
“I don’t miss this,” Olivia groans beside me. “Aren’t you anxious?”
I glance at her as she chews at her thumbnail. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun on the top of her head and her body is draped in a nice, casual white tee with a cute pair of denim cutoffs to match.
“Of course, I’m anxious,” I tell her. “But I applied this cute ruby polish before we left and I don’t want to chew it off.”
She lowers her hands and smiles a full wide smile at me. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her shorts, she opens her mouth to speak, only the door flies open and in rushes a group of people, shouting and demanding Jackson head toward the ring. I get lost in the fray. My heart thunders in my throat as I stand on the tips of my toes, desperate to see him.
“Selena?” I hear him call my name over the noise.
Olivia tugs me backward by my shirt as the plume of frantic humans rush everyone toward the door. What’s the hurry? I don’t understand.
“Holy shit,” Olivia gasps, pulling us both back against the far wall, toward Darryl. “That’s a bit excessive.”
“Selena?” I see Jackson’s wrapped hand shoot up, and then his face as he pops his head outside of the crowd that swarms him. He grins when he spots me. “Where do you want to get married?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. What? I’m so damn confused.
“Where do you want to get married?” he shouts again, the first half of the crowd disappearing out the door. “How about Tahiti? Are the beaches white enough for you there?”
And then he’s gone…sucked out of the room like debris from a compromised airplane. All I can do is gape, wide eyed, like a fucking goldfish. Tahiti? Why is he thinking about places to get married when we’re on the precipice of his very last fight? It’s madness.
“Tahiti is nice,” Olivia says, smiling slyly. “I can see myself relax—I mean, I can see you getting married there.”
I roll my eyes with a snort.
“I’m getting too old for this shit.” Darryl exhales, slipping his phone into his pocket as he pushes off his stool. “Let’s go before we miss it.”
As he saunters past, he holds his elbows out for Olivia and I to take. We do, and he escorts us out of the quiet room and into a bustling hall. Thankfully, most of the fracas is ahead of us, moving rapidly toward the center of this entire exhibition. The corridor is just as run down as the rooms. The abandoned warehouse that encases us has obviously been out of commission for a long time but still they’re able to rig up the lighting and keep it standing long enough for this death trap to fill with people.
Darryl squeezes us through an unrelenting crowd, their screams and cheers become more deafening the deeper we go. Booze spills all over me. Whatever it is wets my hair and runs down my spine, but I force myself to keep going. I ignore the elbows to the ribs and my toes as they’re crushed underneath heavy boots and sharp heels. All I want is to get to the front and see Jackson. There, I know I’m safe.
Out of nowhere, Seth appears, his worried gaze locating Olivia, and then softening with relief. We join him at the edge of the cage and he squeezes into the space behind us, blocking the crowd from pushing us around. I hear Olivia mention that we’re big girls who can take care of ourselves and it’s met with a rich laugh. I don’t think he cares.
I focus on Jackson in the cage, who paces back and forth, waiting for his opponent. Seeing him up there sends my heart pounding like nothing else. The way the lighting hits every rise and depression of his body…he looks like a god. A masterpiece.
My complete admiration of Jackson’s athletic physique is cut short as Connor Cage rushes into the dirty fighting space. I gasp. Connor Cage is everything I was hoping he wouldn’t be. Tall, wide, and absolutely terrifying.
Jackson is tall, easily six-something, but Connor has him beat by a
whole foot, and not only is he built like a damn skyscraper, but the width of his body is incredible too. Rolling his thick neck, Cage cracks his knuckles and shakes out his trunk-like arms. He shouts something, something I don’t hear, but Jackson does, and he passes it off with a smirk.
Seconds pass, but they’re not normal seconds. No. They’re long, nasty seconds that grind my nerves up. I hold my breath as the two fighters watch each other. There’s a chill on my spine I can’t explain when I look at Cage. I’ve never doubted Jackson’s strength or his ability to beat anyone that is stupid enough to fight him, but…I’m not sure how this fight is going to go.
I peer over my shoulder at Seth. “What do you think?”
He cranes his neck, lending me his ear. “Hm?”
“What do you think?” I repeat, enunciating every word.
“He’s got it,” Seth simply states in my ear. “Don’t worry.”
Olivia rubs the small of my back as I turn my attention to the cage. If Jackson feels any kind of fear, he’s certainly not showing it.
The cage creaks and groans under the added weight of Connor’s body and I hold my breath, expecting it to give away. I’m not sure why the police aren’t here yet, shutting this whole thing down. This flimsy deathtrap of a warehouse is packed way over capacity and the slightest thump is going to send it crashing on top of us. Spotting me to his left, Jackson jogs over to the edge of the rusty cage and grips the metal in his fingers as he crouches low.
The dusky lights above makes the sweat on his body glisten, and I watch as dust occasionally drifts and settles on the surface of his skin.
“Tahiti, yeah?” Tiny, golden rivers of honey in his irises flare with excitement as he beams down at me.
“Tahiti?” Darryl snaps. “Why don’t you focus on winning the fight before you plan a wedding you won’t be able to afford if you lose?”
Jackson smirks, not taking his eyes off me. “I’m not gonna lose.”
“Why Tahiti?” I shout, reaching out to touch the cage.
Underneath my soft hands, I feel the rough dirt and dry rust flake off. People scream at Jackson, some begging he destroy Connor, others graphically depicting how Connor is going to destroy him. There’s a few women in this crowd too. I can hear them not too far away, demanding he do things to them that I’d prefer he only do to me.