The Fight for Forever

by Meghan March

  Maybe I should get him a real guitar. That thought is quickly followed up by a second one—when I don’t ever have to share a wall with him again.

  Why didn’t I think of it before? Probably because I’ve been so worried about getting the club up and running and going legit, I’ve had tunnel vision for way too long. That’s coming to an end.

  “You want anything? Or . . . can you eat anything with your training?” Scarlett asks as she takes a step to follow after Hal, who is a few feet behind Bump.

  “A few fries won’t hurt me. I’ll eat more broccoli later.”

  “Good. Let’s get in line before Bump sweet-talks his way to the front using the ‘I’m with the band’ line.”

  I chuckle as she threads her fingers through mine and tugs me along behind her. My feet almost stay planted to the ground, though, because I’m staring at our hands. Scarlett looks back and then down at them.

  “Something wrong?” she asks.

  “No. Not at all. I just like holding your hand. I like it a lot.”

  The soft glow of happiness radiates from her entire face. “I like holding your hand too, stud. It’s one of my very favorite things.”

  It’s so different from the faint echo of my mother’s voice in my head. “You’re too old to be holding my hand, aren’t you, boy?”

  Something that’s been inside me for a long damn time—a hardened edge, sharpened by my mother’s abandonment—dissipates like mist rising off the surface of the Hudson.

  I follow along behind her, feeling so fucking grateful for this day that nothing can possibly bring me down.

  Twenty-Eight

  Scarlett

  We find a picnic table in the middle of the park. Bump leans his inflatable guitar carefully against the side so he can devote his full attention to devouring the three corn dogs he ordered.

  I fear for his stomach, but I can’t say anything because he looks so confident and proud.

  Watching him onstage was a riot. If that performance doesn’t prompt Gabriel to buy him a real guitar and get him lessons after things settle down, I will do it myself. I mean, after we discuss it like adults and find him a soundproof place where he can practice. But in my head, I’m already trying to decide what color guitar he would want. Black or blue, maybe?

  “I forgot how good these things are,” Hal says with a moan of pleasure as he takes a bite of his own corn dog. Brave man.

  As Gabriel takes over hawk-eye duty while Hal grabs a bite, he steals a few more rough-cut french fries out of the big bucket we’ve placed in the center of the table.

  I lick salt off my fingertips, thumb through pinky. “This is better than any restaurant I’ve been to in the last month, bar none,” I say with a wink. “Sometimes you just need potatoes, grease, and salt.”

  “And family. Family is the best spice,” Bump adds, sounding like a wise man.

  Gabriel reaches out to throw an arm around him and pulls his head against his side. “You definitely got that right, bud.”

  “So, does that mean you’ll come to the barbecue next weekend at Big Mike and Joanie’s? I told them you might be too busy to come, but Big Mike said I was crazy and that you wouldn’t miss it.”

  I glance back and forth between the two men and watch as Gabriel’s face softens. “Of course I wouldn’t miss it. Big Mike’s barbecues are the best.”

  Bump throws both hands into the air, sending a chunk of the cornmeal coating from his dog flying over his head. Thankfully, the projectile flings the opposite direction from my face, and I smile at Gabriel.

  “I’ve never been to a barbecue . . .”

  Bump’s mouth drops open. “No way,” he says in shock. “You are not living, Scarlett.”

  His comment, so straight to the point and innocent, like I’ve learned is typical from Bump, hits me right in the solar plexus.

  He’s right. I wasn’t living. Not before Gabriel and Bump came into my life.

  Gabriel reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your fill of them in no time. Mike would have one every Sunday if he could talk Joanie into fixing all the food that often. You’ll love her. I promise.”

  “And you’ll meet Dani and Tony and Carrie and Christopher . . . oh, and Melanie, and maybe more. It’s so much fun. Gabe had to miss the last two, but Big Mike bet me he’d come to this one and I never bet against Big Mike because he’s always right even when you don’t think he could always be right.” He heaves for breath after that mouthful and then gulps down half his bottle of water.

  “Sounds like I’m coming to a barbecue then.”

  “This is awesome!” Bump throws his hands into the air again before lowering them and turning to Gabriel. “Can I have another twenty? I want to get a lemonade. You know, the kind that they squish the actual lemons into and then put a chunk in the cup? I saw it when I was in line, but my hands were full . . .”

  Gabriel reaches into his pocket and pulls out another twenty-dollar bill. “Get your lemonade, dude. Rock gods can’t be thirsty.”

  The look on Bump’s face as he swivels and rises from the picnic table is priceless.

  “I’ll come with ya, Bump. I could use some lemonade to wet my whistle,” Hal says, also rising.

  “You want a big one or a small one? Because I’m getting a big one,” Bump asks as the two men take off to the trailer with two giant lemons wearing ball caps on the side.

  As soon as they’re out of earshot, I grab Gabe’s hand in midair, while he’s reaching for another fry.

  “You getting stingy?” he asks.

  “No, but we have to get Bump a guitar. And lessons. And see if he likes it for real. God, Gabe. He looked so happy. Did you see how he soaked up the energy from the crowd?”

  Gabriel nods. “I saw it. I was thinking the same thing.” He tangles his fingers with mine. “I don’t know how it’ll go, but it’d be worth it just to see if he enjoys it.”

  “Okay, good. So we need to find someone who knows about guitars, and get the right one for him. I’ll talk to some people.”

  Gabriel’s shaking his head while I’m talking.

  “What? Am I moving too fast on this?”

  “No, you’re fucking perfect. I can’t stop thinking about how damn lucky I am that Bump decided to steal you for me.”

  My cheeks stretch with my grin. “I know. It’ll never sound normal, but I’m so glad he kidnapped me. Just thinking about missing out on all of this would level me.”

  He brings my hand across the table and presses a kiss to the back of it. “And my life wouldn’t be nearly as good without you. It’s still early with all this, but I know what I want, Scarlett.”

  “What?” I whisper as my heart thuds impossibly hard.

  “You. For as long as I can possibly have you.”

  My eyes burn instantly with happy tears. I know how he feels about me, but when he puts it like that . . . instant melty puddle. “I know the feeling, cowboy.”

  Gabriel’s shoulders shake with laughter. “I thought we decided on stud?”

  My grin widens. “How about mine?”

  He closes his eyes for a beat, and when he opens them, I caption the expression on Gabriel’s face as When I Make Him Happy.

  “That’s perfect, ladybug. Absolutely fucking perfect.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Legend

  I push the bucket toward Scarlett on the picnic table with a smile on my face that feels like it’ll never come off. “I better leave the rest to you, or Jeb is going to wonder what the hell happened to me tomorrow.”

  “If you insist,” she says before diving into the rest of the delicious fries.

  Before she can pop another one in her mouth, Bump comes rushing back to the table, and he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

  Instantly, I bolt to my feet, all systems on alert. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

  “I . . .” He huffs out a few breaths while he tries to find his words. “I . . .”

  “Si
t down. Are you okay? Where’s Hal?” I press Bump down onto the bench, his back to the table, with my hands on his shoulders.

  Scarlett jumps out of her seat and rounds the table to sit beside him. “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “I . . . I saw him.”

  My stomach twists into a wicked knot. Even though I’m 99 percent sure who he’s talking about, I ask the question anyway. “Saw who, bud?”

  Bump shakes his head back and forth with tiny, fast movements.

  I spin around to look for Hal, but the man is nowhere to be seen.

  Fuck. If Moses is here . . . I’m wishing I had a nine tucked into the back of my pants, but I didn’t exactly think that would be welcome at a community center carnival. I scan the crowd, locking in on every face that could possibly belong to Moses, but none of them are him.

  I turn back to Bump. “Was it Moses?”

  Scarlett pulls him hard into her side with her arm wrapped around his shoulder. “You’re okay. He can’t get you. Not here. Not now. I promise.”

  “He was here. I saw him. He looked right at me with those creepy eyes. Evil eyes.”

  Fuck. Moses’s eyes are definitely the most distinctive thing about him. They seem to glow an unearthly greenish gold.

  “Where did you see him?”

  “By . . . by the lemonade. I got mine, and I dropped it. Hal ran after I yelled.”

  I lay a hand on Bump’s knee and squeeze as I push to my feet. “I’m so fucking sorry, bud. Goddammit. I’m done letting him fuck with us.”

  Scarlett looks up at me, and instantly, I quiet down. Now isn’t the place or time to lose my temper over Moses. We need to wait for Hal, get the situation from him, and then get the fuck out of here so we can figure out a new plan.

  Because if Moses can get close enough that Bump can see his eyes . . . he’s close enough to kill.

  A shaft of fear shoots through me at the thought. No one hurts Bump again. No one touches Scarlett. Those two things are nonnegotiable in my life, and I’m not going to let Moses change either of them.

  I spot Hal coming through the crowd. His chest rises and falls faster than it did before, so I know he was running. “You lose him?”

  He nods slowly. “Got into a car on the street and hauled ass out of here. I wasn’t close enough to get a plate number. I’m so fucking sorry, Gabe. I should’ve gotten a plate. I should’ve gotten him. I feel like I fucking failed you.”

  “No,” I say, shutting down his shame with a shake of my head. “Moses is smart. Wily. Always has been. He knew we were here. He wanted something, probably to shake us up and let us know he can still get to us. Checking on me would be right up his alley, and he said he would.”

  “Can we go home now, Gabe? I want to go home. I want Roux.” Bump’s voice sounds so weak after all the excitement it’s been charged with this afternoon, and it makes me want to take out Moses right then and there.

  No one gets to steal Bump’s happiness.

  “Roux is at my house, Bump. Do you want to come have a sleepover? You remember when you came before?”

  Bump perks up, and I could kiss Scarlett for the suggestion. Her building is secure as hell, and Bump would be in a new, different place, so he’d be more likely to be excited and curious than terrified all night. At least, that’s the outcome I’m praying for.

  “Your house? The big house?” Bump’s eyes are wide.

  “You can see the whole place. Have a tour. But I only live upstairs, where you saw.”

  “Can we make a pillow fort again?”

  “If you want,” Scarlett says gently. “Or you can have your own room, and make one for you and Roux in there.”

  Bump turns to me. “I don’t want to go home. I want to go to Scarlett’s house.”

  I ruffle his hair. “Okay, bud. Then we’ll go to Scarlett’s house.” I glance at Hal, and he motions toward the street.

  “Car’s a few blocks over. You want to wait until I pull up at the entrance to the park?”

  “Yeah. That’ll be good.”

  Hal heads off to get the SUV as we toss the remains of our food and the containers.

  Bump picks up his air guitar and clutches it to his chest. “Why did Moses come back, Gabe? I thought we were done with him?”

  The question makes me feel like a damned failure. What the hell are Creighton Karas’s guys in the Casso family doing, and why the fuck haven’t they locked onto Moses yet?

  “He probably was just making sure I look like I’ve been training for the fight.”

  “He wants you to lose,” Bump says with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose. You need to win. It makes you happy to win.”

  This fucking guy. I swear to Christ, Bump gets how I think and feel better than anyone. He’s totally attuned to my moods in a way that even Q isn’t after fifteen years of friendship.

  “Let’s not worry about Moses or the fight right now,” Scarlett says with a forced smile. “Why don’t we make our way over to where Hal is picking us up? I’m sure Roux is going to be so excited to see you.”

  Bump forgets about Moses as soon as Scarlett mentions Roux, and I could kiss her for distracting him. He starts chattering about all the treats he’s going to feed her, and how he’s going to let her sleep on the bed—if that’s okay with Scarlett.

  By the time we reach the entrance and Scarlett has caved about letting Roux cuddle him on the bed, Hal is just pulling up in the SUV. We all pile in, with Bump taking the far back seat.

  We’re quiet for a few minutes, before Hal flips on the radio station and “Highway to Hell” is playing. A shiver rips up my spine, but Bump breaks out his air guitar and starts singing. I try not to take the words as a bad omen, but that only lasts as long as it takes for the ringing to start.

  “Is that your phone?” Scarlett looks at me with a questioning expression on her face.

  I shake my head. “No. Not mine.”

  “Mine’s on silent,” Hal says.

  “Mine too,” Scarlett adds.

  “It’s coming from your purse, though,” I tell her as I point to her red handbag.

  Scarlett shakes her head but digs into her purse anyway. “I don’t have a ring tone that sounds like—” Her words cut off when she pulls out what looks like a cheap prepaid cell phone. “This isn’t mine.”

  I snatch it out of her hand and hit the talk button, but I already know who is going to be on the other end before I answer.

  “What do you want?” I ask.

  “Gabe . . . you’re looking real fine. The training is already showing. You been workin’ hard, haven’t ya?” Just like I knew it would be, Moses’s accented drawl comes through the other end of the line.

  “What do you want?” I whisper through clenched teeth, even though everyone in the SUV can hear me.

  “Nothin’ much. Just wanted to see how you were doing. Can’t I keep tabs on my old friend Gabriel Legend?”

  I stay quiet, fighting the urge to yell and tell him how the fuck I really feel about him terrifying the shit out of Bump, again.

  “Nothing to say to me?” His tone shifts, turning harder and more serious. “That’s fine, Gabe. I don’t need to say much to you either. Just wanted you to know that I’m watching you. Might even call it watching over you. Making sure nothing happens to my prizefighter so fight night goes off without a hitch. You stay healthy now. Eat your vegetables and keep training hard. And think of your old buddy Moses here and there if you need any motivation to make this shit count.”

  “Stay away from my people,” I grind out as sweat collects on my forehead from all the rage I’m bottling up inside.

  “You’d like me to promise that, I’m sure. But I don’t take orders from you, Legend. I give them. Now, you and your new little family have a nice afternoon. Tell your lady I like her purse. She’s got style.”

  My eyes lock on the red leather bag Scarlett pulled the phone out of. Moses wants me to know he was close enough to touch her.

  The old me would lose my goddamne
d mind and threaten to kill him if he ever came anywhere near her again, but I can’t do that right now, not in front of her and Bump. The kid’s been through enough, and Scarlett doesn’t need to hear it either.

  “I hear you, Moses. Everything is coming through loud and clear.”

  “Good. That’s real good. Now y’all go get some real food. Because you can’t be training just on french fries. I am glad to see you finally found a woman who ain’t afraid to eat, though. I always like me some meat on them bones.”

  Wrath is threatening to burst from every pore of my body as my temperature rises higher and higher.

  “Don’t look at her again. I promise you’ll regret it.”

  His snicker is dark and twisted. “Then stay the course, boy. You know what you gotta do.”

  The call goes dead, and I drop the phone on my lap.

  “It was him,” Scarlett whispers.

  My entire body feels like it’s been filled with concrete. I don’t want to move a muscle, because I’m afraid I’m going to do something stupid like punch through the window to my left with my fist.

  I’m not going to let him dictate how the fuck I feel too, I tell myself, fighting for control over my rioting emotions. Moses Buford Gaspard knows how to push all my fucking buttons, and I won’t allow it to keep happening.

  “I need to make a call when we get back to your place,” I tell her.

  “Okay, whatever you need.”

  I note her pale complexion and wide gray eyes. “Alone.”

  She nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll take care of Bump, and you take care of business. We’ve got this, Gabe. Whatever it is, we’ve got it.”

  I sit quietly in my seat, staring out the window as we drive back to Curated, wondering what the fuck I’ve gotten myself into, and how the hell I’m going to get us all out.

  I replay the call with Moses in my head a half dozen times, grappling with my anger. When we get out at Curated, Hal walks us up to the front door and checks every room in the entire building to make sure it’s secure.