Fighting for It

by Jennifer Fusco

  “Then you win by knockout.” Her order came out flat and cold.

  Jack tightened his jaw.

  She knew by the look on his face he wanted her to give in and let him have his way. That wasn’t going to happen.

  “Look.” He covered her hand with his. “That last fight. That loss. I feel guilty every day. There was nothing I could do then. Now I can do something. Sacrificing myself and my career to save the gym and the guys—to save you—that’s something to be proud of. And baby, I’d do anything to make you proud.”

  She leaned in. “I am proud.”

  “You’re not. I see it in your eyes. Deep down, you know I put you in this situation. I lost.”

  “That’s not true.” She averted her eyes to the table. She wasn’t wrong back at the cabin when she tried to find a tree as thick as Jack’s head. Sometimes she thought it really was made of wood. Boxers. Why did they turn everything into a fight? “Don’t you see? You can’t give up everything you’ve worked for. We’ve come too far for you to take the easy way out.”

  The waitress appeared and placed Daniella’s glass of wine in front of her and set the martini on the table. Jack allowed his eyes to wander to the drink. “You said I couldn’t knock out Cortez. You said he’d tire me and wear me down. For weeks we’ve been planning to win on points.”

  She lifted the wineglass to her lips and sipped. “Like Shakes said, boxing changes on a dime. Clarke has upped the ante, so we will, too.”

  “This is a game you don’t know how to play. He’s bought off the judges, so there’s no way I can win. Clarke is out to destroy me. He’ll destroy Stamina in the process. Don’t lose everything because of me. I’m not worth it.”

  “You’re not worth it or we’re not worth it?”

  He grabbed the martini and downed the drink. Then he lifted his hand, grabbing the waitress’s attention, and said, “Another one.”

  Daniella steeled her nerves. “Don’t do this, Jack.”

  “Do what?”

  “Turn to the bottle when your career doesn’t go as planned. Isn’t that a move straight out of your stepfather’s playbook? Don’t throw us away because you’re scared. That’s not who you are.”

  The grip on her hand tightened. “I’m not scared. This isn’t easy for me. It was a hard decision to put you and the gym in front of my career, but it was the only decision I’d be comfortable making.”

  Her throat constricted. She held her breath. Watching. Waiting. Wondering if he was going to blow up the relationship they’d worked so hard to build.

  “You need to understand one thing. There is nothing you can do or say that will make me sell your contract. You want to think you’re sacrificing yourself, go ahead. You want to fuck up your future, more power to you. The only thing I need is for you to show up tomorrow night and knock Cortez’s ass to the canvas.”

  With that, Daniella stood and pushed her chair back from the table.

  “Wait,” he said. “Sit.” She gathered up the rest of her pride, and before she had a chance to leave, he added, “Please.”

  She sat and stared at him blankly.

  Jack slid his empty glass to the side and held his hands out, silently asking to hold hers. “Look. You had a great life in California. A good practice. Clients who needed you. And now the guys at Stamina need you, too. Nobody needs me. Nobody except Clarke. That’s what makes this the right thing to do. I think it’s time we give up on the pipe dream of a world championship and sign the paperwork.”

  Her nostrils flared. “Give up on you? After all the time, patience, and love I’ve given you?”

  He moved his hand from hers. “Why can’t you understand what I’m doing is hard for me?”

  “Because you’re telling me to give up on us.”

  Again he averted his eyes to the top of the table, and she knew that was exactly what he was saying. He wanted her blessing to be the sacrificial lamb for Stamina, but what about them? Dammit. She loved him and she thought he loved her, too.

  “Do it,” he urged. “Let me go.”

  Her bottom lip quivered. “You promised you wouldn’t push me away.” He sat in silence, not attempting to try to fight for what they shared. How could he do this? How could he break her heart? She’d been a fool. Duped again by Jack Brady’s good looks and hot sex. Her cheeks started to burn. Tears pricked the back of her eyes. She swallowed the realization that Jack Brady had toyed with her emotions—again. In that moment she hated herself. She searched for his gaze until their eyes locked. Holding back her pain, she stood up from the table. “Fine, Jack, if giving up is what you want, let’s do it,” she said, keeping her voice low. She refused to cause a scene in a room filled with reporters. “I will give up on you as a boxer. I’ll give up on you as a person. And I’ll even give up on us.”

  And with that she left him seated at the table, head bent forward, shoulders slumped, eyes cast to the floor, visibly slaughtered.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Sharp pain struck Jack deep in the gut. Over the years he’d handled cheap shots, low blows, and had been hit harder than should’ve been allowed. None of it compared to what Daniella had done to his heart.

  He’d asked her to give up. He pushed her away and she’d left him. His heartbreak was his fault.

  Why was it that the women he cared about the most in life always caused him the most pain? Normally he didn’t do relationships of any kind unless it was getting up close and personal with a bottle and a stranger.

  That he could do.

  Daniella pulled out his heart and served the beating organ to him like a cocktail.

  And the worst part was, he’d asked for it.

  Jack remembered his last conversation with R. L. before he’d left for London. He remembered the gaps in the conversation like there was more his trainer wanted to say, yet couldn’t find the words. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck prickled at the end of the call, telling him something wasn’t right.

  He was doing what he promised R. L. he’d do when he was younger, back when he and Daniella first dated. He’d promised to look out for her. He’d promised her father he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. That’s why he pushed her away and kept her from getting too close. Being with him always meant something bad was going to happen.

  Jack fucked up everything.

  His broken relationship with his mom had scarred him. Losing R. L., the only parent figure he had left, had created a wound deep in his soul. And now his situation with Dani was slowly killing him from the inside out.

  He pulled the martini the waitress had delivered in front of him and stared at the drink. Then lifting it slowly in a tiny salute, he bid good-bye to his relationship with Dani. The cool gin slid down his throat. The drink, while tasty, was too fancy for heartbreak.

  He lifted a hand and the cute waitress bopped over. He ordered bourbon, neat. Then before she walked away, he added, “And bring the bottle to the table.”

  He planned to sit and drink until his mind and body went numb, then maybe he’d find some nighttime consolation. The waitress’s behind swayed as she walked away. Its round plumpness didn’t compare to Dani’s beautiful body. He doubted any woman ever would.

  Finally fighting his way back to the woman he loved, he realized how much better his life could be with Dani. That was over now. She’d said so herself.

  They were done.

  The waitress brought the bottle and an empty glass. Placing both before him, she poured his drink. “Maybe I can help you finish that bottle?”

  “Not right now, thanks,” Jack said flatly before he sent her away. If he couldn’t have Dani, he didn’t want anyone.

  He took a satisfied sip. She dumped him and his loneliness hurt like hell. But at least now nothing stood in her way of selling his contract. In fact, she’d probably unloaded it already. Dani’s rebuff of their relationship meant he wouldn’t be around to protect her, but she’d have the money from the sale to pay the fine and save the gym. He could live with th
at.

  The rest of the money would help launch Mike’s career, and catapult him as a notable fighter in the middleweight circuit, a weight class that, in Jack’s opinion, hadn’t seen a respectable icon since “Marvelous” Marvin Hagler.

  With five hundred thousand sitting in Stamina’s bank account, Mike could get paid to train and Trevor could quit working nights at the club. Take his boxing more seriously. Get a few more wins under his belt.

  The money could also benefit Shakes. Like it or not, he wasn’t getting any younger. With no one to take care of him, a nice chunk of change could buy him a cushy resting spot.

  The gym’s debt sat in the forefront of his mind. Dani would make the fine and the eviction notice disappear, but even after its resolution she faced late fees, insurance payments, and the London expenses would roll in.

  Was five hundred thousand enough?

  He hoped it was. But now Stamina and the problems it faced were no longer his. He had other things to concentrate on. Like figuring out what the hell he was going to do now that his contract was going to belong to Clarke. He expected to be used as a human punching bag, a stepping stone. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t end up punch drunk before his contract expired.

  With another swig, old Jack returned. The bourbon tasted smooth and silky, like liquid smoke. And it went down just as easy. He considered ordering a burger with extra cheese, but the thought of food absorbing the alcohol in his stomach countered his plan.

  He needed to prove to himself that he could get over Dani just as easily as she’d walked out on him. The waitress returned. This time she’d changed out of her uniform into a pair of black leather pants and a crop top. She held an empty glass.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all.” Jack took her hand and pulled the girl into his lap. He ran his hand up the back of her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin. Under his touch, her skin wasn’t as smooth as Daniella’s, not as warm. Touching this girl felt like a violation. He pulled his hand from her body and placed it back on the table.

  She helped herself to the bottle. “So what’s your name?”

  “Jack. You?”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Jack. I’m Serena.”

  He nodded dismissively. Her name didn’t matter. He’d forget it by morning.

  “So what do you like to do, Jack?”

  “Fight, drink, and fuck. Not necessarily in that order.”

  She smiled. She must’ve understood his frankness for an invitation to go upstairs.

  Maybe it was.

  With a few more drinks he could pretend this chick was Dani with a short haircut. He’d fool himself if he had to in order to get hard and get over the love of his life. He and Serena drank together. His face warmed, and with each sip, the waitress looked better and better.

  She talked. He didn’t listen. His only concern was how many drinks he’d need until a desire sparked to get in her pants.

  The girl threw an arm around his neck and moved her pelvis, grinding into his lap. He placed a hand around her waist and held her. Then he allowed his gaze to travel up the length of her torso and it stopped, reaching Shakes’s disapproving eye.

  The old man made his way to Jack’s table. The girl continued talking, rattling on about nothing until she must’ve noticed Shakes, too. She stopped talking and turned her head in his direction.

  “May I have a word with Jack, please?” Shakes asked the girl. “In private.”

  “Sure.” She lifted her bottom off of Jack’s lap, filled her glass, and left to take a seat at the bar.

  Shakes lowered himself into the chair beside Jack. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on?”

  Jack felt his face grimace. “Dani dumped me.”

  Shakes’s frown matched his own. “Well I figured as much, seeing as this woman is practically lying on top of you. What did your dumb ass do?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Well we’ve got nothing to do till the bell rings tomorrow night.”

  Jack sipped from his glass and returned his drink to the table.

  Shakes pushed the glass from Jack’s reach. “This is not the time for alcohol. And whatever’s eating at you isn’t going to be solved by making time with the lady at the bar.”

  Jack’s shoulders dropped. “I told Dani to sell my contract to Clarke.”

  Shakes placed both elbows on the table, clasped his hands together as if he were about to pray, and rested his chin on them. Then he let out a long sigh. “I was worried something like this might happen.” Shakes raised his graying brows. “What in the sweet hell is wrong with you, boy?”

  “Clarke is offering enough money for my contract to keep Stamina from going under. It’s a quick fix. Dani should take it.”

  Shakes’s bottom lip jutted out, thinking. “Quick fix? In my forty years in boxing, nothing has been solved with a quick fix. What does Clarke really want your contract for?”

  “Retribution. I was never supposed to reenter the fight game after the London loss. Clarke thinks I’m standing in the way of Cortez fighting Sokoloff. He buys me; he buys Cortez a world championship, and they all get rich.”

  Shakes lowered his forehead to rest on his clasped hands again. “Do you want her to sell?”

  Jack shrugged. “I told her to. I think I convinced her that sacrificing my career was what I needed to do to save her and the gym.”

  Concern lined Shakes’s face. “So you really want out?”

  “No, God no. Putting her and the gym ahead of what I wanted took balls. She didn’t see that. She saw the whole thing as giving up, flaking out. She dumped me right here in the bar.”

  Shakes pulled Jack’s drink in his direction, lifted the glass and sipped. “Oh Lord.”

  Jack continued. “If Dani doesn’t sell and I don’t win, the loss combined with the debt would crush Stamina. Everything would be over. She didn’t understand that.”

  “Because she has faith in you. She knows you’ll win.”

  “No, I won’t. Clarke’s got control of what happens in the ring.”

  Shakes took another small sip of bourbon. He closed his eyes after the drink, and then opened them again, presumably after the burn subsided. “Is Dani really going to sell?”

  “Yeah. It’s for the best.”

  “Jesus, Jack.”

  “It has to be this way.”

  Shakes gave a slight nod. He pushed the glass and the bottle away from both of them. Then the old man stood up and traded glances between Jack and the girl at the bar. “I don’t want to be the one to tell you what to do. You and Dani aren’t together, and it’s none of my business, but if you spend the night with the brunette, well, that’s something Dani won’t be able to forgive. Sale or no sale.”

  Jack sat silently.

  With a squeeze of Jack’s shoulder, Shakes turned and left the bar. The noise in the room rose. People laughed. Music cranked through the tiny space. It seemed as if everyone in the place was having a good time except for Jack.

  Serena meandered over, spying the bottle, and giving Jack a little wink. “Can I join you again?”

  Jack stood, picked up the bottle, and gave the booze to the girl. “Not tonight, baby. Not tonight.”

  Because no matter if Dani ever forgave him or not, sleeping on the floor of Shakes’s room was sure to be a hell of a lot more comfortable than going home with the waitress.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  The volume in the arena rose as the crowd filed in. From time to time, Jack peeked out from his dressing room door to watch the room fill. This was it. Fight night.

  He shadowboxed, paced, and watched television to reduce the nervous excitement that ran through him. Nothing helped ease his tension. Nothing could. Everything he and Daniella had worked for would have boiled down to this moment. But with the stroke of her signature along a dotted line, their business relationship would be finished forever. Their personal one didn’t require a John Hancock to tell him it had gone kaput.

  At th
e short rap on the door, Jack said, “Come in.”

  Shakes walked in carrying his bag of supplies. “How you doing?”

  Jack lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.

  “Take a seat. I’m here to tape your hands.”

  Jack lowered himself into the nearest chair and stuck out his left hand. Shakes approached him, holding athletic tape. Starting at his wrist, Shakes applied the tape to Jack’s hand, and cut short strips to wind around it. Wordlessly he worked, cutting smaller strips to place in between Jack’s fingers, thicker ones to protect his knuckles.

  Shakes finished the first layer and started on the second. “Have you seen Dani?” he asked, not looking up from his work.

  “No. Since we’re going to part ways, I wanted to do it professionally. I was hoping to shake her hand. I guess she hates me too much for that.”

  Shakes pursed his lips. “She might come around one of these days. She took her father’s death hard, harder than I think she’s willing to admit. So forgive her if she doesn’t want to lose anyone else.”

  Shakes finished taping Jack’s left hand and started on his right. Jack opened and closed his taped hand, bending the fibers to fit easily inside his glove. Shakes layered the tape, forming a thick pad. The tape would act as a shock absorber during his fight. A fist-to-face punch hurt like a bitch, both for the boxer taking the hit and the one throwing the punch. Shakes took pride in knowing how thick to apply the tape so Jack wouldn’t break a knuckle.

  “Looks good,” Jack said, inspecting Shakes’s work. “I’m going to miss this. You taping my hands.”

  The old man patted his shoulder. “I’m going to miss taping your hands.”

  They both waited silently for the next step. An official from the sanctioning body overseeing the fight needed to inspect Shakes’s two masterpieces.

  Time passed quickly. In less than a beat, Shakes answered a knock on the door. He pulled the dressing room door open wide and Dani walked inside. Immediately she turned to Shakes. “Can you give us a minute?”