Fight From The Heart: a small town romance (Heart Collection Book 4)

by L. B. Dunbar

  Pam shakes her head as she reaches the staircase and twists to glance at me over her shoulder. She’s seductive in this position. Her eyes say come hither. Chase me. But I don’t. This is a test. Can I resist her? Can I fight that pull she said she felt to me? Haven’t I been fighting it for over two years?

  I can give her this. Slipping my hands in my pants to disguise what she’s done to me, I watch her slowly ascend the staircase like some star-crossed lover in his mythical mansion. The beauty doesn’t fall for the beast in a day.

  Chapter 19

  Work It Out

  [Pam]

  Last night, I slept restlessly, tossing and turning, torn with my thoughts. I wanted him next to me, in this bed, holding me as he suggested, but I don’t trust myself. After two years of fighting off the attraction, it is suddenly in my face, and I can’t accept it. Mandi’s presence still lingers in my head. Jacob hasn’t told me what they said to each other or how he got her to leave, and my biggest concern is that she’ll return. She always comes back.

  Eventually, I give up on sleep and head downstairs. I heard Ethan and Ella come in late, so I assume they’ll be sleeping for hours still. To my surprise, Jacob is in the kitchen.

  “I’m headed to the gym, but afterward, I thought we could hit up some of the touristy shit.” His voice unsettles me, something off in his tone.

  “Maybe I could come with you,” I mention, and his forehead furrows.

  “Uhm, this isn’t a health club. This is a gym.” He pauses for a second. “A boxing club.”

  My mouth falls open and quickly shuts. While I’ve seen Jacob’s workout room at his house, and know he works hard against a bag and a pummel ball, I wasn’t aware he actually fought.

  “Like a fight-fight?”

  “Yes,” he drones, irritation filling his voice.

  “Why?” I question, crossing my arms.

  “It’s to blow off steam,” he admits. He seems frustrated for some reason. Is this about sex? Is this because he couldn’t sleep in bed with me?

  “Are you hungover?” I question, hating that I’ve asked but wondering why he’s so grumpy.

  “I didn’t drink last night,” he snaps, and I wonder if that’s what has him on edge.

  “Fine. I’d like to go with you.”

  His lips twist as he considers me a second. “All right, but you’re working out as well. There’s a private trainer there who can show you a thing or two.” His voice is still edgy, and suddenly, I’m ready to fight. Energy churns through my body that I need to burn off myself.

  “Private trainer isn’t a euphemism like personal tour guide, is it?” I question, teasing him, but he steps up to me, crowding my space.

  “I’d never let my trainer near you,” he hisses. “You’ll be working with a female trainer.”

  Yikes. Simmer down.

  “Okay,” I drone.

  “Get dressed,” he snaps.

  Someone’s woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

  A half hour later, we enter a gym, and it’s just as he mentioned. Boxing ring. Smell of sweat. This isn’t some polished, posh club but an honest-to-goodness fight club.

  “Ashling, this is Pam Carter,” Jacob introduces me in that voice that’s been aloof all morning.

  A burnt-red brunette with a feminine athletic build sizes me up and smiles. “You did good here, Professor.”

  “Professor?” I tease, turning to Jacob.

  “They know I write books, but they don’t understand I’m not a teacher.” He glares at the woman. “Pam needs some basic training while I hit the ring.”

  He’s actually going to fight in the four-sided, roped-off arena where he’ll punch someone on purpose and get hit in return. I’m not certain how I feel about this situation, but it has to be better than randomly picking fights or giving in to the temptation to start them outside a controlled environment. If Jacob needs this, it’s better than some alternatives.

  “Sure, darlin’.” Her voice is filled with an Irish brogue. She circles the desk and leads me to a room where I’m out of sight of the main gym.

  For the next forty minutes, I learn hooks, uppercuts, and kicks. Strangely, it feels good to punch the bag.

  “Pretend it’s his face,” she teased, encouraging me to muster anger. I’m not certain if she means envision Jacob or call to mind Brendan, but punching something just feels right. I didn’t realize how tense I’d been in New York. Despite the wonderful day yesterday, I still have energy to expel.

  “Or better yet, pretend it’s her,” she joked. The bag almost hit me as I stopped short and turned to Ashling. “She’s a tool.”

  I don’t need to ask to know who she is talking about, which meant Mandi has been here. Suddenly, I have the strength of an elephant and the anger of a hungry lion. Tension vibrates up my arms as I slam into the bag over and over again.

  When our session ends, Ashling leads me back to Jacob, who is still in the ring. She leaves me near the side, excusing herself for her next client, and dismissing my offer of a tip, stating Jacob covered everything. Feeling good but still wired, I watch Jacob work with a man slightly larger than him.

  “You’re losing your touch.” His partner’s face is covered, but his Irish brogue is just as distinct as the personal trainer. Jacob doesn’t respond to the taunt but continues to punch left and right into large mitts on each hand of his opponent.

  “Must be really mad at her this time, eh?” The man continues to poke at Jacob.

  “Fuck you,” Jacob mutters around his mouth guard, but the words are almost crystal clear.

  “What’d she do this time? Max out your credit card?”

  Mandi has access to Jacob’s credit cards.

  Jacob’s pummeling increases.

  “Sex with another man again?”

  Mandi cheated on Jacob.

  I gasp, and Jacob turns in my direction, startled by my nearness to the ring.

  “Who’s this pretty?” the Irish trainer flirts, lowering his mitts while Jacob stands still, minus his heaving chest. He spits out his mouth guard and introduces me.

  “This is Pam. She works for me.” It’s said as if I’m underneath him when just a day ago he made me feel indispensable to his process. He praised my support and suggestions to his agent, and she complimented me in her own way.

  “Isn’t she a lovely?” the other man continues with a devious smile in his voice.

  “Don’t,” Jacob growls.

  “Got your knickers twisted over this one, eh? Or is it your balls are blue?” Without another word, Jacob punches the man outside of the mitts.

  “Illegal!” the Irish man hollers with a chuckle, after taking the blow. He spits to the side of the ring. Gross. Ignoring Jacob’s hunched stance, poised like a prized fighter, the man speaks to me again.

  “As he’s a wanker, want to give it a go with me, lovely? I promise to be gentle.”

  “I’m warning you.” Jacob lunges again, but the other man catches him, successfully blocking his punch with the large mitt and laughing even louder at Jacob’s reaction.

  The Irish man pushes Jacob off him. “In your corner, or I’ll pull you from tomorrow’s fight.”

  “What?” The word doesn’t have a chance of being contained.

  “The professor here has a turn in the ring tomorrow.” The trainer pulls his face guard off, revealing rusty hair and a smarmy smile. Bright but dark green eyes stare at me, knowing he’s just told me something I didn’t know.

  “You look like you could use a go at him?” Irish man tilts his head, nodding to Jacob. If Jacob wants to fight someone, he can fight me. “Come on up here, lovely.”

  “She doesn’t want to get in here,” Jacob barks.

  “Don’t speak for me,” I warn him and climb up into the ring. I’m pissed that Jacob has let himself be abused by Mandi all this time while I’ve been right here willing to love him. I’m angry he’s using this ring to release his aggression instead of talking about things, and I’m upset he has
n’t told me he fights, like fight-fights.

  The trainer holds out a hand to me once I’ve entered. “I’m Paddy McGregor.”

  “Pam Carter,” I state, although Jacob’s already said my name. Paddy leans in for a kiss to my cheek, still holding my hand with his. “Give him one good punch. You’ll feel better.”

  Lifting his head to nod, I follow his gaze to find Jacob with his back in the corner, holding the ropes. He’s a bull ready to charge with flaring nostrils and a heaving chest. He’s worked up, but so am I.

  “What’s your deal?” I snap.

  “Give it to him,” Paddy encourages.

  “She’s not interested,” Jacob growls. There’s an entendre in his response, and this fuels my ire. Snarky word games will not work today. I stalk to Jacob’s corner, getting right up close to his sweat-laden body.

  “Don’t pretend to know anything about me, Professor.”

  “You’d be surprised how much I know about you, angel. And don’t call me that,” he snaps, anger vibrating around him.

  “And what should I call you?” I can think of a few choice words. “Why would you say I’m not interested in you? I’m standing here, aren’t I? I’ve been by your side for years.” I emphasize by stomping my foot like a petulant child.

  “Or am I your rebound girl now? Am I a filler until you get back together with her? Was I just some pity fuck?” I don’t even know where the questions come from, but I’m suddenly out of control, my concerns escaping me.

  “Don’t you dare go there,” he growls.

  “Oh, and where should I go, Jacob?” I hiss, leaning toward his body as he leans away from mine. He’s frightened of me. In fact, he’s holding himself back, gripping the rope as best he can because he looks ready to pounce. “Is it only about sex for you? Is that all you want from me?”

  While Jacob’s shaking his head, Paddy speaks from behind me. “I’d like to have sex with you.” He’s only teasing, aggravating Jacob more to get a rise out of him. And it works, as Jacob moves, attempting to go around me to get at his trainer.

  My hands go up, palms flat on his sweaty skin. “No!” I yell at Jacob. “No. This is our fight.” His head swings back to me, and I point back and forth between us.

  “Is this about last night? Because I didn’t give in to you, didn’t give in to the pull.” I nearly spit at him, upset that he’s being such a dick because we haven’t slept together again. He’s a spoiled child not getting his way.

  “Why did you fuck me that night? Was it just the convenience?” I need an answer. It’s clear Mandi doesn’t believe they are over. It’s clear Jacob can’t see she’s an issue. Am I wearing rose-colored glasses as well? Is this Brendan all over again, and I’m not seeing things clearly?

  “Don’t.” The fire in his eyes could set me aflame. The black pupil has turned to molten lava, anger boiling over and rolling between us.

  “Then tell me,” I demand, desperate to know why he did it. After two and a half years, why now? I need to know. Once and for all, I need to know if all he wants is in my pants, just some itch he needed to scratch.

  “I regret nothing,” he says, and it sounds like something tattooed somewhere on his skin. He makes his choices, and he lives with them. Maybe that’s why he’s never truly gotten rid of Mandi.

  “Come on, man, you can do better than that,” Paddy jests behind me, and Jacob raises a gloved hand in his direction.

  “You . . .” He points at the man. “Stay out of this.”

  “Just trying to help out a lady.”

  I don’t need his help, and I’m ready to interject my own defense when Jacob turns back to me.

  “And you. Don’t ever fucking say that to me again. I did not fuck you for money, pity, revenge, or any other stupid shit in your head.”

  “Stupid?!” I shriek, aghast at the insult of my emotions. “You think I’m stupid?”

  “Lilac, I didn’t—”

  “You’re the stupid one,” I say, poking at his firm chest with my fingertip. “You’ve let her use you and abuse you when you have change your destiny written in ink right on your chest. You’re the one who permanently wrote nevermore on your wrist where you can see it when you type but over and over again you go back to her. You’re the one drowning yourself in alcohol to chase away the demons.” My voice cracks.

  “I might have been stupid to miss a man cheating on me under my nose. No one else wanted to tell me, but people have been telling you.” My hand flings out to emphasize Paddy behind me. “And you’ve taken her back time and time again. I loved myself enough to walk away when I learned the truth. You need to do the same. Maybe then you’ll be able to see what’s right under your nose.”

  I’m breathing so hard it’s as if I’ve gone twenty rounds myself. Jacob’s glaring back at me, eyes flaming, nostrils flaring. His chest heaves as he quietly takes my rant.

  “If you’re so smart, you tell me, what’s under my nose, Lilac? What am I missing?” he demands.

  “Me!” I cry. Then my breath catches, and I choke on the admission. His eyes widen. My chest heaves as sweat drips down my temple. We stare at one another until I step back. He reaches for me, only he can’t grab me with his gloved hands.

  “No,” I whisper-hiss.

  “Lilac,” he commands.

  “You need to get your shit together, Jacob. Face those demons. Fight them,” I warn. “Or you’ll lose me.”

  Taking another step back, I turn to face Paddy. “Sorry about that.”

  The six-foot-three muscular man wears a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “That’s what I need to see tomorrow night,” Paddy says over my head to Jacob. Then he glances down at me. “Hope you’re ringside. He’ll need ye.” He tips his head at Jacob. Suddenly, I know how Mandi knew Jacob was coming to New York.

  “You told her, didn’t you?” I question, not angry, just curious.

  “He’s my best fighter.” Dollar signs ring in his green eyes, and it makes sense. He wanted to rub her in all Jacob’s wounds, bringing up the pain and fueling it in him.

  Turning back to Jacob, standing a foot from me, I dig my hole deeper. “I would never be like her, Jacob.” I raise my hand, and he flinches with anticipation, expecting a blow. Maybe he thinks he deserves it if I hit him. Maybe he’s equally attracted and repelled by that action, but I’d never do such a thing. I’d never physically harm him.

  Instead, I cup his face, curl my fingers under his chin, and lower my other palm to his sweat-covered chest. His heart races underneath the tattoo, which speaks volumes.

  Change your destiny.

  “You need to listen to your heart, Jacob. Fight for what it says in there. Fight for you.”

  My hand slips off his chest, and the other releases his chin. This man changed my destiny. The night my father died, the night he was on the side of the road, everything spiraled for me. I left my job and went to work for him. I took the simpler pace of working for Mae. One night. One man. My heart told me what to do, and I’ve been fighting with that heart ever since. He needs to do the same for himself, in order to keep me.

  For once, I want someone to fight for me.

  “I’ll be up front when you’re ready.” After walking to the rope, I slip through the openings and feel Jacob watching my retreat. Once I’ve hit the floor, I refuse to look behind me but hear Paddy speak.

  “You should consider marrying her, ye bastard, or I will.”

  Chapter 20

  Missing Out

  [Jacob]

  Me. It’s the only sound ringing in my head. She’s telling me I’m missing out on her, and she isn’t wrong. But is she willing to give herself to me? What price will it cost her to do such a thing? What will it cost me?

  Standing still while I watch her walk to the front of the gym, I realize the cost will be my heart and her sanity. I’ll drive her crazy.

  “You’re a bastard,” I call out to Paddy as I turn back to him, struggling with my gloves.

  “You needed th
at,” he says to me, being one of my oldest friends. I’ve been coming to this gym since I was in college and he was working it under his father. Now he owns the place, training kids how to fight responsibly and teaching women self-defense. It’s one reason he wound up Pam, pushing her to her limit to fight me and fling out those words that stilled my heart.

  Me. She knows she’s too good for me. With a heavy heart and a brick in my belly, I get my gloves off and gather my things. Meeting Pam at the front, she’s chatting with Ashling about the fight tomorrow night. When she sees me coming, she thanks Ashling again for her time and marches out the front door. Once I’ve followed, she spins on me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she huffs, frustration clouding her tone. “Sometimes, I feel like I know you, and other times, I don’t.”

  “Would you come to the fight?” Sheepishly, I ask as it’d be a lot for me to handle—her on the sidelines—but then again, it’d mean a lot to me, too.

  “I don’t know, Jacob.” She sighs, crossing her arms, looking down at her feet. I don’t like how she’s closing off from me. “Is this even good for you?” Worry fills her voice as she tips her head toward the gym. Her ire has settled and now, her body language expresses her genuine concern.

  “The gym? This is one of the best things to happen to me.” I sigh, looking off at the busy traffic. “I wasn’t always strong, physically or mentally. This place taught me how to build strength, inside and out. It taught me how to fight back.”

  Her eyes search my face, anxious in what she reads. She also has questions.

  “Just ask.”

  “Why would you let her hit you?” Her voice quiets, and I struggle to answer. I scrub a hand down my face.

  “It’s hard to explain. It’s not like she was beating me up. It’s just . . . I don’t know. Some sort of sick pleasure, I guess. We’d fight, and she’d get physical. I’d dominate the struggle.” A thought occurs. “I never hit her, Lilac. If that’s what you’re thinking. I never touched her like that.”