Fighting Jacob

by Shandi Boyes

  I stop talking when a voice I don’t immediately recognize interrupts, “That’s the point. We want you scared.”

  The pulse thrumming in my neck is audible in my words. “Who is this? Where’s Lola?”

  Hank balances on his tippy toes so he can press his ear against my phone. He stops trying to eavesdrop when I lower my phone to turn on the speaker.

  “She’s here with me, though she can’t talk right now.”

  When he sniffs after laughing, it dawns on me who it is. “Callum.” Hank’s fretful eyes snap to mine. “If you fuckin’ touch her, I’ll kill you.”

  “I won’t touch a hair on her head if you do as instructed.”

  He’s lying. I don’t know how I know that. I just do.

  “How can we trust Lola is with you? You could have just stolen her phone.”

  A ruffling sound is closely followed by my phone receiving a picture message. When I click on the image, my heart drops into my stomach. Lola has a gag in her mouth. Her eyes are open wide but woozy. That might have something to do with the large bump on her forehead.

  Anger floods my veins, turning my blood potent. I will kill him this time.

  I nearly throw up when Hank points to something in the corner of the picture. There’s a gun pointed at Lola’s head.

  Fuck!

  With words eluding me, Hank takes over the negotiations. “What do you want?”

  “Jacob needs to throw the fight. Not in the first round. It has to look legitimate.”

  “And then?”

  “Then I walk away and leave her as is.” I wait, knowing there’s more. I’m right. “But... if he fails to impress the crowd, I’ll blow her brains out.”

  “I’ll do it.” My voice is stricken with fear. “Let her go; I’ll keep my word, I promise, but you need to let her go.”

  “No can do. She won’t leave my sight until the fight is over. Once it’s done—right—I’ll text you her location.”

  When he disconnects our call, I run a shaky hand over my head. I want to kill him, or second-best, his brother who’s waiting for me out in the cage, but if I do that, he’ll hurt Lola. I can’t let that happen, so as much as this kills me, I’ll throw the fight. I’d do anything to save Lola. Anything at all.

  My hand falls from my head when a fight promoter pops his head into the locker room. “It’s time to go.”

  While sucking in a long, ragged breath, I follow him out of the room. Hank shadows closely behind me, removing my phone from my hand and replacing it with a pair of gloves. When the promotor stops just outside the arena to wait for me to be introduced, I'm too impatient to wait. I make a beeline for the cage, my heart pumping in tune with the music booming around me. Curtis is in the cage, awaiting my arrival. Even the officials knew he wasn’t the drawcard for our act. The fans are here for me, not a man unworthy of their praise.

  When I enter the cage, Curtis lifts his gaze to me. He has a condescending smirk etched on his mouth, convinced he has the world at his feet. He does—for now. Once Lola is safe, all bets are off.

  The crowd boos at my unusual bad sportsmanship when I refuse to tap gloves with Curtis. I’ll make it up to them later, but right now, right here, nothing but Lola is on my mind.

  When the referee announces the start of the fight, I slam Curtis with a brutal left and right combination. Callum said the crowd had to get a show. I’m keeping my end of the bargain, dispelling my anger over seeing a gun pointed at Lola’s head.

  Curtis stumbles back, his glare more worried than cocky. When the first round comes to an end, and Curtis is sporting a black eye and a split lip, he stares me down across the cage with nothing but hate in his narrowed gaze. While returning his glare, I plan my next attack. Before I have all my stones lined up, he makes a throat-slitting gesture, harnessing any desires of a beatdown. I swore years ago to protect Lola any way I could. I plan to keep my promise.

  I protect my face as much as I can during the second round, but I grant Curtis unlimited access to my body. He instills punch after punch after punch until we’re dragged apart by the referee. The third round follows a similar routine... until I become distracted by Hank moving away from Noah in the front row. Curtis uses my distraction to his advantage. He strikes my left temple hard, sending me to the ground with a sickening thud.

  When I stand, my vision blurs, and my stomach lurches.

  “Do you want to tap out?” The referee holds my gloves in his hands as he coerces my eyes to him. "You with me?"

  “I’m good.”

  My brain rattles in my head when I shake it to clear the fog inside. The referee watches me cautiously when I make my way to Curtis with my hands held high to protect my face. He pummels me the entire round, hitting me with a grueling combination of swings, kicks, and tumbles. He works me over real good, but it’s got nothing on the mess crippling my heart.

  Just before the bell rings, announcing the end of the third round, Curtis whispers, “Next round,” instructing it’s time for me to throw the fight.

  When I stumble to the edge of the cage, Hank doesn't mop up the blood streaming down my cheeks, he just points to something on my phone. “She’s at the gym.”

  Through the blood obscuring my vision, I take in the photo Callum sent me with more diligence. I don't see what Hank's showing me until he taps the screen twice, zooming in on the smallest portion of a Hank's Gym logo in the background.

  “Finish him.” Hank’s voice is a dangerous snarl. “Then go get our girl. Noah is waiting out front.”

  My first thoughts are to leave now, but if I leave Curtis conscious, there’s a chance he’ll alert Callum of our arrival before we get there. I can’t let that happen. I have to take him down first.

  I’ll try not to enjoy it too much.

  I return my eyes to Hank. “If he wakes up, don’t let him leave this cage.”

  “I won’t; I promise,” he immediately replies.

  As soon as the bell dings, signaling the start of the fourth round, I charge for Curtis. When my fist makes a sickening crunch with his left cheek, shock morphs onto his face a mere second before he plummets onto the mat. I’m on him in a second, punishing him as I plan to punish his brother.

  The crowd leaps to their feet, nearly drowning out Curtis’s snarl, “She’s dead.”

  If he’s hoping his threat will hinder my onslaught on his face, he’s shit out of luck. I hit him with everything I've got, only stopping when his eyes roll into the back of his head, and the ref is dragging me away from him. He's down for the count, and I'm out of the ring.

  I sprint past the spectators screaming my name before darting by the ones still looking for their seats, unaware the fight is over. I run and run and run until I dive through the cracked open door of Noah’s truck. “Go, go, go!”

  Noah plants his foot to the floor, rocketing us out of the parking lot with squealing tires and a plume of smoke. I’ve never seen him drive so fast before. He weaves in and out of traffic, pushing his truck to its absolute limit, helping us arrive in Ravenshoe in under fifteen minutes. Adrenaline from the fight is still coursing through my veins—thank fuck—otherwise, I might have crumbled in fear by now. Just the thought of Lola being hurt utterly guts me.

  When Noah’s truck mounts the curb at the front of Hank’s Gym, I throw open my door, clamber out, then sprint for the entrance. I stop frozen halfway in when gunfire booms through the silence of the night. It’s followed by a scream I know all too well.

  With my heart in my throat, I continue my mission. I beg on repeat for Lola to be safe, for her not to be hurt by the gunfire, but when I scan the gym floor, I’m afraid my worst fear has come true. There’s a body lying on the ground Lola and I wrestle on multiple times a week. It’s not moving.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Lola

  An hour earlier...

  I blink my eyes, clearing my blurred vision. I can't see two feet in front of me, but it doesn't take me long to realize I’m at Hank’s gym. The smell is undeniab
le.

  Just as my vision clears enough to see blobs of color, a voice that forever haunts my dreams trickles into my ears. “She’s here with me, though she can’t talk right now.”

  As my memories roll back, I take in my surrounding through blurry eyes. The hardness under my thighs reveals I’m still on the wooden bench Callum demanded I sit on, but the lack of natural light means the low-hanging sun has been replaced with an inky black sky.

  I must have been knocked out for a while as it was a little before three when Lydia left. Callum took advantage of the time. My hands are bound in front of my body, and he removed anything that could be used as a weapon to the other side of the room. I could commend him on his smarts if I didn’t hate him so much.

  When Callum notices I’m half-lucid, he taps his gun on his lips, demanding I remain quiet before devoting his attention back to my phone attached to his ear. “I won’t touch a hair on her head if you do as instructed.”

  My pupils widen when he lowers his gun to my temple before snapping a photo of me with my phone. After a whoosh sounds through my ears, he squashes my phone back to his ear. “Jacob needs to throw the fight. Not in the first round. It has to look legitimate.”

  I silently pray for Jacob not to believe a word he says. He’s not like Jacob. He can’t be trusted.

  “Then I walk away and leave her as is.” He makes a pop noise with his mouth when he pretends to shoot me. If the smile on his face is anything to go by, he’s been fantasizing about doing precisely that for months. “But if he fails to impress the crowd, I’ll blow her brains out.”

  His smirk reveals he intends to follow through on his threat no matter the outcome of the fight. If proof of life wasn’t needed to get Jacob to agree to his plans, I’m confident I wouldn’t still be breathing right now. That’s how unrepentant Callum’s eyes are.

  “Once it’s done right, I'll text you her location.”

  He just made a huge mistake. I didn’t know Jacob was unaware of my location until now, so I’m more than willing to fix that. I scream with all my might, getting out “Ha—” before Callum silences my screams by pinching the skin between my brows with his gun before disconnecting his call. He stares down at me, his hate unmissable.

  “You just went and got your boyfriend killed. If he doesn’t turn up for his fight, he won’t make it out of the stadium. There’s big money riding on him losing tonight, and the men who put it on him aren’t as nice as me.”

  When I suck in a sharp breath, the gag in my mouth lodges in the back of my throat. I cough, panicked I’m moments from asphyxiation. My teary response amuses Callum. He watches my struggles with a ghost of a smile cracked on his lips, loving that I’m walking myself to my grave.

  My lungs burn in fear when my flaring nostrils fail to suck in the air needed to keep them functioning. I’ve never lacked confidence, but I’m reasonably sure I’m in the midst of a panic attack. No matter how hard my nostrils suck, I can’t get enough air. I feel like I’m suffocating, like I’m literally seconds from death.

  Just before I fully tiptoe into hysteria, my savior finally arrives. It isn’t who I’m hoping. Callum tugs the gag out of my mouth a mere second before I give in to the darkness encroaching me. Although my first thoughts should center around replenishing my lungs with oxygen, my head takes on a different plight.

  “Please let me go.” He could have let me die, but he didn’t. That means somewhere in the bottomless pit in his eyes is the boy I once knew. “Please, Callum. I won’t tell anyone what happened. We’ll pretend as if today never existed.”

  When I place my hands over his to enhance my pledge, the light above our heads sends rainbow hues dancing across my face. They’re from the light capturing the diamond engagement ring on my finger.

  Callum’s calm, cool composure cracks before my eyes when he unearths the real reason for the extra gleam in my eyes. He’s the most unhinged I’ve ever seen him, even more reckless than he was the day he choked me.

  “Is that a…” He taps his gun against his temple, like he can’t force the words “engagement ring” out of his mouth. I realize that’s the case when he roars, “I thought you didn’t want to get married?!”

  “I didn’t.”

  Even a stranger wouldn’t miss the words I didn’t express. I never wanted to get married, until I met Jacob. He makes me crave things I never knew I wanted.

  “I love—”

  Before all the words can leave my lips, the butt of Callum’s gun skims across my temple for the second time.

  I don’t know how much time passes before I’m awoken by someone yanking me to a standing position. Once I’m on my feet, Callum plasters himself to my back before his gun digs in my temple. Although I can’t see him, I know it is him. Nothing can replicate the scent of a deranged man.

  The reason for Callum’s startled response comes to light when my eyes float up from my shoes. Ryan is entering the gym via the door I left open during my attempt to flee. He has his gun drawn, and he’s peering down the sight.

  “Drop your weapon.”

  Callum drags me closer to the mats Jacob and I have wrestled on many times the past two years. “Put down your gun, or I’ll fuckin’ shoot her.” He digs his gun into my ribs so severely, tears fill my eyes. In the silence, I hear him inch back the trigger, preparing to shoot me. “This is your last warning. I’ll do it. I’ll kill her.”

  “Then I’ll kill you. Is that what you want, Callum? Do you want to leave the legacy of a murderer?”

  With his eyes locked on me but his gun focused on Callum, Ryan bobs his head to my shoes. I'm certain he's trying to signal something to me, but with my brain fritzed, it takes me longer to work out than I care to admit.

  When he steps forward with a big stomp, I finally understand. He’s encouraging me to use the skills I’ve been teaching the past twelve months—to defend myself against my attacker.

  Five seconds after I sneakily nod, Ryan yells, “Now!”

  I stomp down on Callum’s foot with all my might before ramming my elbow in his ribs. After throwing my head back so it collides with his nose, I sprint toward Ryan as fast as my quivering legs can move. A gun being dislodged rattles me for all of two seconds, but I keep running. I’d rather be shot trying to flee than die a coward.

  When I crash into Ryan with an oomph, a tormented scream shreds through my ears. It isn’t coming from the man Ryan just gunned down. It’s from a man who made me realize I’m worthy of the greatest battle—as is he.

  “Lola!”

  As Ryan spins me away from Callum’s lifeless body slumped on the floor, Jacob's grief-stricken face presents. Moisture is glistening in his eyes, and his face is as white as a ghost. When our eyes collide, he falls to his knees, sending three little tears trickling down his face.

  “Jacob…”

  I race to him, crashing into him so fiercely, we topple to the floor as hard as my belief I’d never love again was knocked out of the park.

  “I love you, Jacob. I love you; I love you; I love you.”

  Today made me realize I don’t tell him nearly enough how much I love him. So, from now on, every time the thought pops into my head, I’m going to say it out loud.

  I loved him back then.

  I love him now.

  And I’ll love him forever.

  Epilogue

  Jacob

  Six months later...

  Noah and Emily sprint down the aisle, their steps as fast as my heart is racing. “I told you we wouldn’t miss it.” Noah slings his arms around my shoulders. “Although a little more notice would have been nice.”

  “I had to get her down the aisle before she changed her mind.”

  Lola may now tell me multiple times a day that she loves me, but that doesn’t mean she’d skip down the aisle without first putting up a protest.

  “You look very dashing, Jacob.” Emily replaces Noah’s arms with her own. “Even if you’re sporting a black eye in your wedding photos.”

 
I waggle my brows, more than happy to have the photos retouched in exchange for holding Lola to the bet we made six months ago. Last night, I became the Heavyweight Champion of the World. Today, I’m about to become Lola’s husband. Can you guess which title I like the most?

  Having the fight held in Vegas presented a perfect opportunity to get Lola down the aisle. I had planned to get married straight after being awarded the title, but Noah begged me to wait. He was performing in San Francisco at the same time my fight was being broadcast around the world. He hated missing my match, but the thought of missing my wedding was cutting him raw.

  “I want to stand by your side like you have my entire life,” he said last night when I called to tell him my plans.

  The past six months have been some of the toughest in my life. Noah was at my side the entire time, as was my wife-to-be, so I couldn’t deny his request.

  Because the discharge of his weapon resulted in a death, Ryan was investigated by the Internal Affairs Department. He was cleared of all charges on the day Curtis's hearing began. Curtis faced charges for conspiracy to commit false imprisonment, kidnapping, and attempted murder. He was refused bail, and last month was found guilty by a jury of his peers. We won't know his sentence until later this week.

  To say I’m incredibly proud of how Lola handled everything would be an understatement. She’s been incredible. She testified for the DA, not once stumbling when Curtis glared at her in warning, before expanding her self-defense classes to include ways to disarm armed assailants. The past six months have been tough, but they proved what I’ve always known: there’s no one stronger than the woman I’m about to marry.

  When the celebrant joins us at the end of the aisle, Noah waggles his brows. “You ready?”

  “I was born ready.”

  My eyes get a little misty when Slater, Marcus, Nick, and their partners mosey down the aisle to take a seat in the second row of pews. Noticing my shocked response, Noah slaps my shoulder. “You didn’t think I'd let you get married without your family and friends in attendance, did you?”