The Fight for Forever

by Meghan March

  The drive to Jersey is silent. Even Bump seems to realize that now is not the time for chatter. Q called in extra security and promised to come by as soon as the club closed. He tried to send Zoe home with us, but she refused to leave.

  I want nothing more than to hold Gabriel’s hand, but he’s got both of them locked around the Bronco’s steering wheel. Hal follows behind us in the SUV. He agreed to work overnight, just in case.

  I’m completely out of my depth. I have absolutely no idea how I’m supposed to react to everything I just witnessed. All I want to do is make it go away, which is why I offered up the money. Sure, a million and a half isn’t exactly chump change, but to protect Gabriel and Bump? I’d gladly hand it over.

  But I can’t bring it up now, especially considering the way Gabriel is white-knuckling the steering wheel. He won’t be receptive to the idea . . . which is probably fair, because Moses already said he wouldn’t take my money for the debt.

  Still, I’d pay a fortune to find out what’s going through Gabriel’s head right now.

  Five

  Legend

  Moses came back.

  And in keeping with his style, he didn’t do it the way I expected.

  No, what I expected was a bullet to the head with no warning. Just like Jorie. But, no, he wants to make me play his game and exact his own special twisted fucking revenge.

  He wasn’t fucking Jorie. There’s no goddamned way. She never would have touched him.

  But, still, my brain goes back to fifteen years ago, and how fucking reluctant she was to leave town. How strangely she’d acted for months. How it had been weeks since we’d touched each other before that awful fucking day.

  Did I miss it? Was her hesitation because she didn’t want to leave Moses behind? And how the fuck could his crew have killed her if she was fucking him? Not a goddamned bit of it makes sense.

  I slow for a red light, grateful for the silence in the Bronco. The last thing I want to do right now is talk. Every part of me has drawn inward, until I feel like I’m suffocating on the questions running rampant through my brain.

  When I finally pull up in front of the service station, Hal parks across the driveway, sideways, blocking us in. Good. If I know him, he’s got a shotgun in his SUV, and he’s not afraid to use it.

  I open my door, climb out, and push the seat back to make room for Bump and Roux. I’m strangely fucking thankful that my dog apparently sneaked out of the office while Bump was watching TV. If she’d seen Moses and gone at him with those big teeth of hers, he would have shot her without blinking.

  Scarlett meets me around the front of the Bronco, and I hand her the keys.

  “Will you get him settled? I need to talk to Hal before I come up.”

  Scarlett’s pale, drawn face guts me all over again. She shouldn’t have experienced what happened tonight. None of this ever should have touched her. I should have killed Moses years ago.

  This is all my fucking fault.

  I stole that truck. Sold the shit. Got Jorie killed and Bump shot.

  I might as well be a fucking wrecking ball, and now Scarlett’s life is becoming unrecognizable because of my destruction.

  “Of course. Whatever you need, cowboy.”

  Her nickname for me is a balm. But no matter how much I want to let it soothe me, I can’t. There are way too fucking many sins I’m answering for tonight. I’ve earned the pain clawing me apart, and haven’t suffered enough for the chaos I’ve caused.

  “I’ll be up soon.”

  I don’t lean in to kiss her, but she presses her lips to mine anyway.

  I don’t deserve her.

  As soon as she’s gone, I walk over to the SUV. Hal is at the tailgate, unearthing something from beneath the carpet. As I expected, it’s a small arsenal.

  “No one will get through me tonight, Legend. You have my word.”

  “Or me.”

  The voice comes from the darkness, and both Hal and I tense as footsteps crunch in the gravel.

  “Who is that?” Hal asks, reaching for a gun.

  I put my hand on his to stop him from grabbing it.

  Big Mike steps into the pool of light. “This is my property. My people. And no one, not even some gangster from Mississippi, is going to come up here and cause trouble in my house.”

  “Big Mike, meet Hal, Scarlett’s new full-time security. Hal, this is Big Mike, Q’s dad and the craziest Puerto Rican I’ve ever known.”

  Big Mike lifts his chin at Hal. “Damn right. I’ll pull up a chair and sit here all night if I need to.”

  “What about Joanie?”

  “She’s staying with Melanie tonight at Dani and Tony’s while they’re out on the town. I’m at your disposal.”

  I walk over to Big Mike. “I appreciate it, but Hal’s got it covered. No need for you to sit out here all night.”

  “Q called and told me everything. I think there’s plenty of reason to.” He glances at the chairs he and Bump leave out front so they can shoot the shit. “I’ll take one of those. No arguing with me, Gabe. You’re family. We take care of our own.”

  A wave of gratitude that again, I do not fucking deserve, washes over me. “Thank you. No arguing tonight.”

  “Good. Now, you go on about your night. We got this down here.”

  I reach out to shake his hand, but he wraps his big beefy arms around me instead and claps my back hard.

  “Go get some sleep. Q says we’re talking shit through in the morning.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that Q isn’t calling the shots on this, but I’m too fucking beat.

  “I’ll see you in the morning. Both of you.” I shake Hal’s hand, and then I head for the door into the service station and lock the dead bolt behind me.

  As I take the stairs, I can’t help but replay what the hell happened tonight. Moses at my desk. Bump with a gun to his head. Seeing the barrel pointed at Scarlett.

  Fuck. I’ve dreamed it before. And in my nightmares, it ended in a bloodbath. I should at least be grateful that my worst fears didn’t come true.

  I stop outside Bump’s apartment, but his voice is coming from my place, so I move down the hall. When I open my door, I find both him and Scarlett in the middle of the living room, surrounded by pillows, blankets, and couch cushions.

  Bump built a fort out of two cushions and a blanket, and he’s tucked inside with his long legs sticking out. He’s smiling from ear to ear, and it stops me in my tracks.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Scarlett says from her position on the floor next to a blanket pile. “I told Bump we could have a sleepover.”

  “Isn’t this awesome, Gabe? I made a cave! I’m gonna sleep in it. And you and Scarlett can have the air mattress. I just don’t know where it is. You still have it, right? From that time I slept on your floor?”

  I meet Scarlett’s warm gray gaze with more fucking gratitude. “Good idea, ladybug. A sleepover is exactly what we need.”

  She rises and comes to me as Bump lowers the blanket to hide himself in his cave. Scarlett wraps her arms around my sides. “I thought it’d be better if we were all together tonight,” she whispers.

  The warmth of her body against mine settles some of the chaos in my mind. I could have lost her tonight. I breathe in the scent of her skin and hair, and close my eyes. “You were right. Thank you.”

  She shifts, and my lids lift to see her staring up at me. “We’re going to figure this out. We’re a team. You’re not going to push me away and give me some bullshit excuse that it’s to keep me safe. I’m part of this, whether you want me to be or not. Okay?”

  I rest my forehead against hers. “I don’t know what to say right now. Give me a few hours to process all this shit. We’ll sort it out tomorrow.” I press a kiss to the tip of her nose, and she nods.

  “I can handle that. Now . . . where’s that air mattress?”

  Six

  Legend

  Lying in the dark, even with Scarlett’s head against my
chest and the sound of Bump’s deep breathing coming from across the room, there’s no way in hell I can sleep.

  Not after tonight. Not after everything Moses said.

  Fuck. Me.

  Him and Jorie? How is that even possible? Every time I’ve tried to think about it, my brain has thrown up roadblocks. But this time, I push through them. I have to consider what he said. Could he have been lying?

  I wouldn’t put anything past him, and if he was trying to rile or rattle me, that would do the trick. But . . . before I rule it out as total bullshit, I have to consider that he might have been telling the truth, and the only other person who could corroborate it—that I would believe—is dead.

  God, I’ve carried the guilt of her death on my conscience every day since Bump crawled home to tell me. For me, it’s always been as if I pulled the trigger myself, because if I hadn’t jacked the truck and sold Moses’s shit, he never would have come looking for me and found her and Bump instead.

  But in the dark, with the woman I love lying in my arms, I have to consider the alternative.

  What if Moses was telling the truth?

  Jorie, what did you do? And for fuck’s sake . . . why?

  No man ever wants to think about the possibility that his woman stepped out on him, but for some reason, this feels even worse.

  If—big if—Moses is telling the truth, then everything I thought I knew is a fucking lie. Every single thing I’ve done to build this club and go legit . . . it was all because of a lie.

  Moses could be playing me, I remind myself. But part of me, a part I don’t want to listen to, is showing me signs I never wanted to see.

  Jorie and her hesitation to leave. How she would disappear for hours at a time, and come home with something new that I knew we didn’t have the money to buy. Like that Coach purse she swore was a knockoff she picked up on the street for twenty bucks, but I thought was too nice to be fake. And how she’d pick up extra shifts at the bar, but would come home smelling freshly showered with new perfume instead of like greasy fried food and beer.

  My gut twists as the things that didn’t add up back then come rushing to the surface. There’s a damn good chance Moses was fucking my girl, and I didn’t want to see it.

  So, what the fuck does that mean now?

  Scarlett shifts on my chest, her fingers flexing and releasing against my skin like she’s dreaming.

  She’s real. She’s here. She’s . . . it. The one. Everything I never knew I wanted and needed. Everything I never dreamed of having.

  She even offered up a million and a half in cash without a second thought, just to try to save my ass and everything I love.

  Part of me is glad that Moses said no. The stupid part that’s full of pride, no doubt. But, Jesus. I never want Scarlett to think I’m with her for the money. That doesn’t even register on the scale of attributes that made me fall in love with her. But wealth is part of her, just like coming from nothing is part of me. I may not care either way what her bank balance is, but that doesn’t change the facts.

  Now . . . I’ve got to make a fucking impossible decision. I’ve been approached before about taking a dive and losing fights. There’s a shit ton of money in it if the right person comes along with a proposition. I’ve never been interested. I win or lose by my own merit.

  But I’ve never had this much on the line before.

  If I lose the fight, I lose my shot at digging us out of this hole I’ve put us in. I’ll keep having to deal with my investors, and their questions about how I’m running my business, and their threats of shutting me down.

  Is that really so bad? a voice in my head asks, and I want to slap that motherfucker upside the head. Losing the fight on purpose isn’t an option. I may not be the most upstanding guy around, but my honor isn’t for sale.

  Even if it saves Scarlett’s life? I’m sick as fuck of these devil’s advocate questions, because I don’t know how to answer, even to myself. Scarlett’s life shouldn’t be on the line, and neither should the life of anyone else I care about.

  Moses’s threats can’t be ignored. He made the call that ended Jorie’s life and almost killed Bump.

  But why the fuck would he kill Jorie if he was fucking her? That’s the part that still doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t know what to believe anymore.

  I lie there as the mattress slowly leaks air, and I sink closer to the floor with each passing hour. It doesn’t matter how many times I rack my brain for solutions, nothing new emerges. I finally fall asleep as the morning light seeps in through the windows, but there’s nothing peaceful about my rest.

  A nightmare ravages my dreams.

  Jorie crawls toward me on her knees, reaching up to grab my hands. Black tears streak her blotchy face as she begs me to forgive her for what she did.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. You have to forgive me. I love you. I never loved him; I only loved what he could give me. He made our life easier. For all of us. You know it’s true, Gabe.”

  With horror, I watch as my dream-hand pulls out a gun and presses it to her forehead like Moses did to Bump tonight.

  “You lied to me. You never loved me. You couldn’t do this if you loved me. Now look what you’ve caused. Look what you’ve made me do. Look at what it’s done.”

  Her tears come faster and harder . . . until my finger squeezes the trigger.

  I jerk awake before the blast, my nightmare dissipating as soon as I open my eyes to the early morning light. My sudden movement should have woken Scarlett, but she’s still asleep beside me.

  Sweat beads on my forehead, and I have to get out of the room. It feels like the walls are closing in. I need more air.

  Carefully, I roll off the mattress, slowly letting Scarlett’s weight dip the surface deeper, and hope she doesn’t wake up.

  When she doesn’t move, I rush to the door and unbolt it before getting the fuck out of the building as fast as humanly possible. I hit the pavement out front, and Big Mike swings around with a shotgun pointed in my direction.

  “Whoa, kid. Some warning would be nice. You almost got some double-aught buckshot to your damn face.”

  I pant for fresh air, my heart pounding. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  The driver’s door to the SUV opens, and Hal hops out.

  “Quiet night, thankfully,” Big Mike says before nodding to Hal. “Neither of us have seen a damned thing.”

  I scan the street and the fenced parking lot across the way before looking back to the older men. “Thank you both for sitting out here all night. I should have been the one to do it.”

  “Nah, you needed to be there for your woman and Bump,” Big Mike replies. “We held down the fort just fine.”

  Throaty exhaust rumbles from the end of the block, and both Hal and Mike instantly look tense and on edge. At least until Big Mike sees the make and model of the muscle car rolling toward us.

  Q parks on the side of the road and climbs out with a box of doughnuts and a cardboard tray filled with coffees. “I figured Hal might need provisions.”

  “Bring that coffee over here, kid. I’ve needed a refill since about four,” Big Mike says, waving Q in his direction. “You look like you’ve been up all night too.”

  Q’s normally slicked-back hair is messed up like he’s been running his hands through it over and over. Knowing my friend like I do, his dad must be right.

  I meet him as he walks up the driveway. “What happened?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing else like you’re thinking. No sign of Moses. Locksmith just finished up. I paid him triple to get his ass there and change every lock in the place, and add new dead bolts to the tunnel doors. I don’t know how Moses got inside, but he shouldn’t be able to get in again unless he’s fucking Houdini.”

  “Thanks, man. You went above and beyond.”

  He holds out the doughnuts. “Nah, that was what needed to happen. Above and beyond is the doughnuts. I got three with pink frosting and
sprinkles for Bump. Thought it might help him forget what happened last night.”

  I take the box of doughnuts and pass them to Big Mike before giving Q a back-slapping hug. “Thank you. Seriously. Fucking thank you.”

  “You’d do the same for me,” Q says with a shrug.

  “Absolutely, brother.”

  “We gotta talk this out. Break it down. Come up with a plan,” Big Mike says.

  I scan the neighborhood again, but I don’t see any unusual vehicles, even though I’m suspicious as hell this morning.

  With my hands shoved in the pockets of my sweats, I turn to face him. “I’ll give you the short version, because we’re too exposed to spend hours talking about this here.”

  “Short and sweet is all I need,” Big Mike replies.

  “Moses wants me to throw the fight.”

  “The fuck you will,” Big Mike says, jumping out of his chair. He’s already turning red in the face. “What the hell is he going to do if you don’t?”

  “If he doesn’t get his money, which, by the way, he’s jacked up to one point five mil . . . he says he’ll take everything from me.”

  A vein throbs in Big Mike’s forehead, and Hal just shakes his head. “That’s a shit deal.”

  “I know.”

  “Let’s think it through.” Q crosses his arms over his chest. “Moses wants this fight to happen without any problem, so that means he’s not planning to touch you before it.”

  “He also said that he could’ve popped me plenty of times,” I add, “but he wants his money first.”

  “So you’re safe until the fight,” Q says. “And hopefully Bump and Scarlett are too.”

  “I’m not taking chances with them.” I look to Hal. “You’re staying with her everywhere she goes. If she’s in her building, you’re out front where you have a view of the entrance and the side door. Got it?”

  Hal nods. “Abso-fucking-lutely, boss. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

  “What about Bump?” Q glances toward the service station.