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Going For It (Texas Titans #7)

Page 18

by Cheryl Douglas


  Blaise took two steps before he thought of Marla. “Oh, and if you’re thinking about going to see your wife, you better think again. Next time you lay a hand on her, I’ll personally see to it that you land in jail.”

  “What happened, Kiara got tired of you? You had to go back to Marla?”

  Just hearing Kiara’s name come out of Morin’s filthy mouth made Blaise see red. “She didn’t get rid of me, man. She got rid of you.”

  “How long you think before Kiara gets tired of slumming, Thomas?” Morin chuckled. “A classy broad like her is gonna figure you out in no time. Face it, she’s too good for you.”

  Morin was just trying to get to him. It was part of the game, zeroing in on your opponent’s weakness, and he couldn’t have pinpointed Blaise’s any better. “Keep runnin’ your mouth, Morin. Give me even more ammo to destroy you.”

  “We’ll see, Thomas.” Morin cracked his knuckles. “You’ve been out of the game awhile. Don’t think it’ll be so easy to step back in like you never left.”

  Unfortunately, Blaise knew he was right. He had to prepare for the fight of his life and hope he lived to tell about it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Are you out of your mind?” Kiara shouted, wringing her hands as she paced in her small living room. “You can’t do this. It’s too dangerous. The doctors warned you that if you got another concussion—”

  “I’m doing this, Ki. Nothing anyone can say will change my mind, not even you.”

  Tears of fear and frustration burned her eyes. “I love you! It would kill me if anything happened to you. How can you be so selfish?”

  Blaise closed his eyes, obviously struggling to maintain his patience. They’d been going around in circles for twenty minutes because neither one was willing to concede defeat. “You have no idea the blood, sweat, and tears I put into being the best boxer in the world. The heavyweight champ, that was always my goal, and he robbed me of that.” His voice softened when his eyes met hers. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to fight forever, but I wanted to go out on top, on my terms, and Morin took that from me. I intend to take it back.”

  Kiara couldn’t blame Blaise for being furious about Morin’s underhanded tactics, not that she could claim to be surprised. The man was clearly a low-life. But that didn’t mean Blaise had to risk his health, his future, maybe even his life, to teach Morin a lesson. “He’s not worth it. Can’t you see that?” She raked her hands through her hair, scraping her scalp.

  “I’m not doing this because of him. I’m doing it for myself.”

  “What about me?” She turned to face him. This might be her last chance to get through to him, so she crossed the room to kneel in front of him. “Blaise, I never expected this. When you came into my life, I was guarded and wary, afraid of guys like you. But you made me see that you’re not like all the rest.” She reached for his hand. “You’re not like anyone else, and that’s why I can’t lose you. Please reconsider. For me.” Kiara knew she wasn’t playing fair, but with Blaise’s safety hanging in the balance, she would resort to every dirty trick she could think of to put an end to this lunacy.

  He kissed her hand before placing her palm against his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. It’s one fight. After that, win or lose, my career is over. At least if I lose this time, I’ll know it was fair.”

  “But you don’t intend to lose,” she said, her shaky voice betraying her fear. “You’ll do anything to win.”

  “Not anything.” He sighed when she withdrew her hand. “I intend to fight fair. Train hard. Get in the zone and be at my best when I step back in the ring. That’s all I can do.”

  Kiara sank onto the upholstered ottoman behind her, feeling adrenaline seeping out of her body like the air leaking from a balloon. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.” She dropped her head into her hands. “This is like my worst nightmare. I’m so scared for you. I know what could happen to you, but I can’t do anything to stop it.”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Baby, I want your support. I want your understanding, but if you can’t get there, I can’t blame you.”

  “Then you’re willing to lose me over this?” She looked at him. “That’s how important this is to you?”

  He seemed stunned, his face draining of color. “You can’t be serious. You’d leave me because I want to get back in the ring again?”

  “No, but—”

  “You can’t.” He reached for her right hand, his voice desperate. His thumb and forefinger slid the diamond eternity band in circles on her finger. “You promised me forever.”

  “But what if Morin snatches forever away from us?” she asked, a sob escaping. “What then? What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to go on without you?”

  He held her face as he kissed her tears away. “Sweetheart, that’s not going to happen.”

  “You don’t know that.” She squeezed her eyes shut as images she’d seen online filtered through her mind. “I saw the videos. I saw how battered and bloody you were when they took you off on a stretcher.” She covered her stomach with one arm, leaning forward. “It made me feel sick seeing you like that, and I knew you were fine…” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head frantically. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  He eased back on the couch, staring at her. “Don’t do this. Don’t make me choose, Ki.”

  Seeing the truth staring her in the face was so painful, but she had no other way to interpret his tortured expression. “Because you’d choose to fight again, even if you knew it was killing me?” When he didn’t answer, she cried, “You would, wouldn’t you?”

  He dropped his head, resting his elbows on his knees as he pressed his thumbs into his eyes. “I can’t choose between you and the career that saved my life. It’s a matter of pride. Until you came into my life, boxing and my brother were the only things that had ever really mattered to me. When I lost Rowan, the only thing I had left was boxing. Morin tried to take that from me. Can’t you understand what that did to me?”

  “What I understand is that you made it out of that ring alive by the grace of God.” She didn’t think she was overstating what could have happened. She’d read the articles and the doctors’ quotes about the swelling in his brain. “You could have died.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “The doctors said you could have died.”

  “I know.” He wrapped his hand around her neck, drawing her head close to his. “And believe me, I thank God every day that I’m still here, that I got to meet you. ‘Cause you opened my eyes, made me realize there’s more to life than boxing.”

  “If that’s true, then why are you doing this?”

  “I have to.” His voice was a fierce whisper when he repeated, “I have to.”

  Kiara inched back to look at him, sensing a shift in his mood. He was losing control, and the truth was seeping from his pores. “Tell me why. The truth.”

  “You want the truth?” He leaned back into the over-stuffed cushions, his eyes cold as he crossed his muscular arms. “I was never any good at anything. I always felt worthless, maybe because my old man kept telling me I was.”

  She hurt for him, but nothing she could say would ease his pain, so she forced herself to bite her tongue and listen.

  “But that all changed the first time I got in the ring. Charlie, the guy who started training me, he saw something in me. I was hungry, competitive. For the first time, I believed I could make something of my life instead of winding up like my old man—miserable, in a dead-end job, and hating life.”

  When he talked about boxing, he came alive, and that scared Kiara. She knew that passion could cost them everything.

  “He taught me how to be a winner.” Turning his arm over to reveal his tattoo, he said, “He taught me to be a warrior. I didn’t back down, no matter how scared I was or how big my opponent. I promised Charlie I’d never back down, and I didn’t. That’s why I can’t now.”

  She understood. As much as she hated to adm
it it, she understood why it was so important to him to get back in the ring and prove to Morin and the world that he was still the fighter Charlie had built.

  “When we met, I was kind of broken,” he said, looking at his laced hands. “I felt bad about myself. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t like the guy I saw looking back at me in the mirror, and I didn’t see how a woman like you, who had it all together, could like or respect me.”

  She couldn’t stay silent any longer. “I respect you because of who you are, not because of how many fights you’ve won or how many millions you’ve earned.” She leaned over and kissed his bristly cheek. “I love and respect you for taking care of your parents when they couldn’t or wouldn’t care for themselves. I love and respect you for letting your brother back into your life even though it was a risk. I love that you found a way to move on with your life after boxing, to do something meaningful instead of sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself.” She smiled to lighten the mood. “Hell, I even respect you for taking Marla in, which is crazy, because the thought of you two together makes my skin crawl.”

  “Hey, that reminds me, we should know the paternity results in a few days.”

  The fight momentarily forgotten, Kiara’s heart hammered for a completely different reason. “Are you serious? But I thought…” His eyes darkened, making her realize there was something he was reluctant to tell her. “What is it, Blaise? What’s wrong?”

  “The doctor insisted on the amnio. Apparently he saw something in the ultrasound that concerned him, or at least made him want to dig a little deeper. Maybe he just wanted to rule out the possibility of a problem. At least that’s what I’m hoping.”

  Kiara saw genuine fear in his eyes, and she realized he was already thinking and acting like a concerned parent. A few weeks ago, that may have aggravated her, but now it only made her love him more. She gripped his leg. “It’s going to be fine, babe. You have to believe that. Don’t let the bad thoughts creep in. They’ll only make you crazy.”

  He smirked. “I could say the same to you. You’re assuming Morin will take me out. How about having a little faith things could go the other way?”

  He was right, of course. She’d watched all of his fights online and knew he was a fierce competitor. Every time Blaise and Morin had met in the ring before, her man had been victorious. She had no reason to believe he wouldn’t be again.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to breathe until this fight is over,” she said, reluctantly giving her consent.

  “I wouldn’t worry about that.” He pulled her into his lap as his warm hand worked its way under her soft cotton shirt. “I intend to make you gasp, pant, and wheeze a hell of a lot between now and then. Starting…” He skimmed her breast, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. “Right now.”

  ***

  Blaise was sitting at his desk the next day when his brother stormed in, looking furious. “Don’t bother knocking,” Blaise said, not trying to hide his sarcasm. He’d had a rough morning already, fielding calls from the press, the promoter, and his team. He was drained, and it wasn’t even noon.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” Rowan asked, slamming his fist on Blaise’s desk. “You can’t fight Morin.”

  “Just watch me.” Blaise took a sip of his lukewarm coffee, thinking about all the indulgences he would have to give up to get back into fighting shape. He was still fit by most people’s standards, but he needed to be better than he’d ever been, and that would take discipline and sacrifice. Fortunately, according to the promoter, he had four months to pull it off.

  “Do you have a death wish or what?”

  Blaise saw fear in his kid brother’s clear eyes, and it reminded him how far they’d come in such a short time. For the first time in a long time, Rowan cared about someone other than himself, and that made Blaise hopeful. “I’m not stupid. I know the risks, and I’m doing everything I can to mitigate them.”

  “Really?” Rowan asked, rolling his eyes. “Do you plan to wear a goddamn helmet?”

  “No, I plan to minimize the number of shots Morin gets in. I’ll take him down before he even knows what hit him.” Blaise had been boxing long enough to know that cockiness was usually a hindrance, but it was just the thing he needed to combat his nerves.

  Rowan sank into the chair across from his brother, looking defeated. “Marla told me what she did. That’s why you’re doing this?”

  “Just settling the score, man. You know how it is. Honor and integrity mean everything. I’d rather go out in a body bag than be remembered as a coward.”

  “No one thinks you’re a coward for retiring,” Rowan said, sounding frustrated. “You don’t hear the way the kids coming up talk about you. I do. They think you’re a legend, man. No one’ll ever think that way about Morin no matter how many fights he wins.”

  “I know you’re trying to help, but—”

  “Listen to me,” Rowan said, leaning forward. “You’re wasting your time in the ring. These guys need someone who understands the sport to manage their careers, to teach them the mental game, ‘cause like you tell me, that’s what wins the matches.”

  Blaise couldn’t deny Rowan was right about the need for mentors, the kind of mentor Charlie had been to him. “I’m thinking about taking a trip back home, maybe asking Kiara to go with me.”

  Rowan frowned. “You’re serious? Why would you want to do that?”

  Blaise hadn’t made the trip often since he’d left Virginia, but he felt as though it was the right time to put his past to rest. He wouldn’t pretend it was all about his parents, though. He wanted to see the man who’d been a real father figure to him. Charlie was getting on in years, and he’d developed Parkinson’s, which he claimed made him even more ornery. Blaise wanted to see him the way he remembered him, before it was too late. “I want to see Charlie.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Rowan said, looking relieved. “Maybe he’ll be able to talk some sense into your fool head.”

  “Don’t count on it.” Blaise kicked his boots up on the edge of his scraped up desk, leaning back in the squeaky swivel chair that had seen better days. “Charlie would never tell me to bow out of a fight. No matter the risk, he was the one who taught me to be a fighter, a winner.”

  Rowan shook his head. “I know that. If Charlie hadn’t gotten through to you, you might have ended up like me, with this goddamn monkey on your back.”

  “Havin’ a rough day?”

  “No more so than every other day.” He smiled. “I shouldn’t say that. It’s a hell of a lot easier now than it was in the beginning, but certain things trigger it.”

  Blaise began to fear his decision to fight Morin may have been the trigger his brother was referring to. “Something happen?”

  “I used that shit to feel in control, ‘cause most of the time I felt so out of control.” Rowan focused on the wall of framed photos behind Blaise, some of the highlights of his career. “Didn’t know where I was going or how the hell to get out of the hole I’d dug for myself.”

  “You may have dug the hole,” Blaise muttered, “but the old man gave you the shovel.”

  “It’d be easy to blame him, but I have to take responsibility for my own actions if I want to beat this thing.”

  Blaise realized he had to do the same, accept responsibility for all the choices he’d made, not just the ones he felt good about. “I think it’ll do me some good to sit down with the folks and have it out with them once and for all. You know, bury those old skeletons.”

  “You sure you want Kiara to be there for that?”

  “I want her to know the real me.” The thought of showing Kiara his scars, even the hidden ones, scared him, but he knew she couldn’t claim to love him until she really understood him. “The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

  Rowan chuckled. “She doesn’t have to dig too deep to see the ugly.”

  “Shut up!” Blaise grinned as he tossed a pen at Rowan. It felt good to joke with his brother again, to find
a measure of the camaraderie they used to share.

  “You want me to come with you?” Rowan asked. “You know, if Kiara can’t make it. You might need the moral support.”

  “Maybe,” Blaise said, nodding. “I’ll let you know.”

  “Well, I guess I should—”

  “Row, hold up a second.” Blaise had intended to take more time to think about it, but Rowan had put his mind at ease about whether he was ready for more responsibility. Blaise believed he could handle it. “My gym manager quit on me today because he’s moving out of state in a couple of weeks. You think you might be interested in the job?”

  “Seriously?” Rowan asked, his eyes widening. “You’d trust me with this place?”

  “You’d have a lot to learn, but so did I. The old owner stuck around to teach me. I could do the same for you.”

  “Man, that’d be amazing.”

  Blaise smiled. “Good. There’s an apartment upstairs. I’ve been meaning to fix it up and rent it out, but if you don’t mind getting your hands dirty, you’re welcome to it.”

  “Uh, how much?” Rowan asked uneasily. “I’m trying to save up for some new wheels.”

  “It’ll be part of your compensation package.” Blaise knew it was important for Rowan to earn his keep, and he respected him for trying to make his own way.

  He lowered his gaze. “I really appreciate this, Blaise, but this isn’t why I was hoping to reconnect. I just wanted my brother back. I didn’t expect anything from you.” He smiled. “Well, that’s not true. I was hoping you’d agree to train me—”

  “Speaking of which, I wanted to talk to you about getting your amateur license. Our gym is licensed by the Boxing Commission, so I can help you out with it.”

  A wide grin spread across Rowan’s face. “That’d be awesome. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anything to get stoked about, so thanks.”

 

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