by Sam Crescent
She hated the fights, fucking detested them with every single fiber of her being. They were not her, and she sure as hell didn’t want it to be her way of life. From as young as she could remember, she’d tried to get out of it, but her father wouldn’t allow it.
One fight after another, she didn’t have a choice but to stick it out. There was no one to help her or to look out for her. She didn’t have parents who cared. They used the money she earned to make their own lifestyle better. Their conditional love did a real number on self-esteem, and made it hard to trust anyone. Being used was the norm in her life, and it’s what she’d come to expect.
There was no one and nothing but her daughter.
Her baby.
Her little girl.
All her fire faded as she thought about her failure. She’d never lost a fight in her life. That was a lie. She’d lost one fight and her father made her life after that a nightmare, so she never dared lose again. Now this was her second loss.
This had been for her baby, for her future, and she’d failed.
Pressing her hands to her face, she cried even though her ribs ached. The tears just kept coming and wouldn’t cease. Her little girl. She’d failed her innocent baby.
“Shit, don’t cry. I can’t handle this when you cry,” Drago said.
“I failed her.”
She gasped, pulling away as Drago put his hand on her.
After being used and pushed aside, she’d vowed never to accept a man’s touch again. She didn’t do love, nor would she ever allow herself to fall so easily again. The first mistake could be forgiven, but she wouldn’t be a fool to fall in love a second time.
The only love she had was for her daughter.
Drago held his hands up. “I don’t recall you being this touchy last time I met you.”
“When was the last time I saw you? I can’t remember.”
She was very much aware of who Drago was and his reputation. Who wasn’t? He was a monster, and anyone who went against him left unconscious or in a body bag. She’d watched him fight a few times, marveling at his stamina. It didn’t matter if the fight was ten minutes or an hour, he always looked bored, as if what was happening around him didn’t affect him. Belle had wanted to reach that level—to not be affected by anyone or anything. Her emotions had always gotten in the way. The only thing she’d been able to hide was her pain level.
“It was some time ago. You shouldn’t have been fighting.”
“I didn’t have a choice. You think I want this life? I have a little girl who didn’t ask to be born into this freak show. I planned to raise her far away from this shit.”
“Until they took her.”
“Yes. You know this.”
“We’re going to get your kid back.”
“Your little minion said you were dealing with it. Where is she?” She hated the spite in her voice. When she heard him arrive, she thought he’d been successful. If anyone could get her daughter back it would be Drago. As much as she hated it, she trusted him. In the years that he’d been in the ring, the rumors about him were always rife. He wasn’t a people person, but he was known to help people out.
She remembered one of the female fighters had gotten hooked on drugs. It seemed commonplace in their fucked-up world. She’d been fifteen and selling her body, and then fighting to deal with her habit. Drago found out, got her into rehab, and completely turned her life around.
“I couldn’t get her yet. Ben didn’t know anything.”
She saw the anger in his eyes. “What do you mean? That was supposed to be the last fight. They promised me I’d get her back after.”
Drago sighed. “Belle, you’re a sweet woman, but don’t you think you’re being a little naïve?”
“I agreed to the fights,” she said. “They gave me their word. Shouldn’t that mean something?”
“You and I both know they wouldn’t have given you your daughter. Not when you caved so easily.” She slumped, hating that it was the truth. “They’re not going to give her to you. Not when they can replace you with her.”
She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her body, trying to find some comfort in her own touch.
“No, she was going to have a better life than this. A million times better.”
He reached for her, but she jerked back.
They were going backward and forward right now, and it wasn’t helping.
“No, I can’t do this.” A rush of panic made her heart race. “They were going to let me have my daughter. We had a deal. I didn’t kill myself for nothing.”
“Belle.” When his hands rested on her shoulders, holding her in place, she didn’t jerk back. She couldn’t feel his touch, and everything was suddenly numb. “Look at me, Belle. Fuck, you look a mess. Ten fights, how long between each fight?” he asked.
“I need her back.”
“How long between each fight?” He snapped the words out, shattering her daze.
“None!” She yelled in his face. The past ten days had been the most intense of her life. “There were no breaks. No time to recover from the fights. I’d been out of the loop for over two years, and suddenly I had to fight for my life and for hers.”
“You were out of practice.”
She wiped away the tears, hating how vulnerable she felt. There was no way she’d trust a man again. Never.
“I could do it,” she said. “I was so close.”
“No, you couldn’t. It’s time for you to understand. Something was going on here, Belle. Don’t you get it? The best of us need a break between all the fights. What you went through, that was a fucking nightmare. There was no chance of you ever surviving all ten fights without a rest. You weren’t supposed to make it to the end. Now, it makes me curious, why would your father sell you out like that? Who wanted you dead?”
“I don’t know. That’s ridiculous. They took my kid, and I made this deal. I don’t know what my father does, Drago. I never did. You know this life more than I do.” She’d always been disgusted by what went on in their world. She was taught it was normal, but it was far from it. “When I had an out, I walked away.”
“And someone knocked you up. How do you know that guy wasn’t working for your father?”
She pressed her hands to her face, hating that everything was so confusing to her. This wasn’t how her life was supposed to be. There shouldn’t be so many challenges.
Everything felt a little dizzy, and as she lost her footing, Drago was there. His arms wrapped around her, supporting her weight.
He was so much bigger than she was, muscular and strong. There had been times growing up that she wished she’d been born a boy. Maybe then her father would have been more impressed, maybe then he’d love her. As it was, he made her train, made her ignore everything that she held dear.
She’d been his little fighter, but the truth was, she’d loved everything girly. From the color pink, to dolls, to dresses, and now all she wanted to do was be a woman. Why couldn’t she be like other women who lived life the way they wanted to? She’d been born into a trap that seemed impossible to escape.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”
Drago sighed, and he held her close without pressing too tight. His lips rested against the top of her head, and she hated how much she loved his touch. Right now, she yearned for his strength and support. She was tired—mind and body.
You shouldn’t get too close.
“We’re going to find your kid, Belle. First though, I need you to get strong. All this shit that happened, you’ve got to understand that you could have died. If I hadn’t been there tonight, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
She sniffled. “I know.” Pulling away from him, she opened and closed her fists, anything to help her through. She hated her weaknesses.
“You’re not alone here.”
“You shouldn’t be helping me. You’ve been out of the life for a long time.”
“True, but the thing is, I can’t walk away. N
ot now, not ever. I don’t give up.” He placed his hand beneath her chin, tilting her head back. He didn’t even show any sign that he hated her messed up face.
She’d taken one too many hits to the face, and it felt obscenely swollen. Although she’d only caught a glimpse in a reflection, she knew she looked a mess.
“This isn’t your fight, Drago.”
“I have a problem with men who abuse women and children. Seeing you tonight, there’s no way I could walk away. I’m not a good man, Belle. I’m not claiming to be. But we both know there’s a problem. Children are dying every fucking day because of this life.”
“What do you want to do? There’s a lot of power that you can’t just cut away or ignore.”
“You’re right. I have no intention of ignoring it. Not anymore. We’re going to get your kid back. That’s a promise.”
****
Drago sat down nursing a nice shot of bourbon. He used to hate the stuff. Whiskey as well. The taste had once reminded him of mold and the scent of his room where he stayed at between fights. Unlike Belle, he didn’t have a home or parents. His fighting started because he was a piece of shit on the streets.
He’d been stealing some bread from one of the stalls in the marketplace when he’d been caught. To pay for his crime, he’d been ordered into the ring. He’d been young, a baby really in the scheme of things.
No one cared about the children of whores, so, for most of his life, he had to fend for himself, which was fine. He was happy to do that, had been doing it a lot longer than people realized. Looking back, he wondered if the guy who’d thrown him in the ring expected him to die.
He’d made a lot of money over the years, lining the pockets of fat cats until he’d had enough. Fighting was something he’d done to survive. An outlet for the pain he kept bottled up.
Now, he was fighting for something else, and looking toward the door of the bathroom, he wondered what the hell he was going to do with Belle.
Fighting for her, it was going to be a challenge. She never accepted help from anyone, and she always had an attitude no matter what. But that was the way they had to be in order to survive. Not once did they have anything come easy. The fighters he remembered when he was young had to earn everything. They had to prove themselves constantly. In the early years, he had to fight for food. To hurt anyone who got in his way.
It was a cutthroat world that hadn’t gotten any easier.
From what he’d seen, it had gotten a whole lot harder and didn’t show any signs of letting up. He hated that, especially the feeling of helplessness from watching Belle. She deserved better, deserved a life far from the ring.
He’d always thought so.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Belle stood there in a simple white robe. The bruising was coming out on her skin, and she looked a fucking mess.
She hesitated, and he nodded to the spare couch a few feet away from him.
“Do you want a drink?”
“I don’t think I should.”
“It’ll relax you.”
“I don’t want to relax.”
He poured her a shot of bourbon and held it out to her. “You don’t have to drink it, but I can pretend I’m not drinking on my own.”
She took the glass from him.
Her hand shook a little. She didn’t want drinks or conversation. Her child was all she wanted.
“They won’t kill your kid,” he said. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That doesn’t offer me any comfort.”
“I’m not trying to comfort you. I’m just speaking the truth. Kids are worth far more to them alive.”
“She’s a little girl, Drago. No life here is safe for her. I should have run when I had the chance.” She sniffled, and he watched her take a sip of her drink.
“I was surprised to hear you had a kid.”
“Why? It happens to the best of us.”
“Not to me,” he said.
“You don’t have any children at all?”
“None. I bag my shit up.”
She flinched. “He did, but it tore.” Belle shrugged. “There’s never any real protection other than to not have sex.”
“I want to know more about this guy.”
“Drago, he was a no one. We had a bit of fun, and he liked the idea of screwing a female fighter. From what I heard he even bragged about being my first. How disgusting is that?”
He wanted to tell her that he should have been her first, and Drago didn’t know where the fuck that thought came from.
“I think there’s more to this,” he said.
She tilted her head and he saw she was hurt by his prying questions, but he didn’t care. Let her be hurt. Right now, something wasn’t adding up, not to him.
“Why do you have to think this is a big deal? I stayed in a place I knew was dangerous.”
“But you haven’t fought in years, Belle. You’re telling me that right now something doesn’t stink? To me, it fucking stinks.”
She chuckled, but it sounded forced, no real humor there at all. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I … I’ve wanted to get out for as long as I could remember. This guy, he was different. He wasn’t a fighter, but he knew a bit. He had a life far away from it.”
Leaning forward, Drago finished off his bourbon, and poured himself another glass. “What proof do you have?”
Drago knew this was killing her. Nothing could be done tonight. He wanted to get her daughter back more than anything. First, he needed to know what the hell he was dealing with.
Something was going on with Belle, and he didn’t know what.
“What are you talking about? Why are you asking all these questions?”
“A guy out of the blue suddenly starts sniffing around you. He’s asking you questions, telling you everything you need to hear, and you don’t once think that it’s odd?”
“I don’t understand. What the hell are you getting at?”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he hated to be the one to break her heart. This was not how he imagined their reunion would go. He’d always known that their paths would collide again. He didn’t know how it would happen, only that it would, and he wasn’t wrong.
“You know what I’m getting at, but you don’t like the answer.”
Belle wasn’t a fucking idiot. He watched her, seeing the answers staring right back at him.
“What you’re saying is … my daughter’s father was sent to woo me? To get me pregnant, so that I would be drawn back into the life? That’s crazy and stupid.”
“Is it, or are you just too embarrassed to the see the truth?” He waited a few seconds, seeing her eyes fill with tears. “That you were so desperate for attention that the first guy who showed it to you, you gave it up for.”
The tears fell, and he expected her to throw something at him, to lose her shit. Instead, the tears kept coming, and he watched as she got to her feet. “I need to sleep.”
He didn’t stop her as she entered one of the spare bedrooms. Finishing off his bourbon, he sat back in his chair, and rubbed at his temples.
This was too much of a headache. Why the fuck did he do this? Why didn’t he just walk away when he had the chance?
His cell phone rang, and he saw it was Carlos on the line. “I thought I told you to leave?”
“I did leave. I left to gather information. You didn’t come back with the baby, so I figured I could help you by finding out everything you need so you don’t go into your meeting blind.”
Drago couldn’t help but smile. There was just no stopping the man. Carlos seemed to know what he wanted even before he did.
“What do you know?”
“The odds of the fight were leaked out to a few known players,” Carlos said. “Even before the fight took place. In fact, Belle’s fights have been fixed from the beginning.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“They believed she’d win the first five fights. They were guaranteed wins.�
�
“Okay.”
“After that, the odds started to drop, but on the seventh fight there was a complication. Rumor has it that she was due to take on another female fighter, Kendra. Girl is eighteen years old, undefeated. The odds were for Belle to fall within the first two rounds.”
“But she didn’t.”
“No. The next two fights, again, the odds were not in her favor, and a lot of money got lost. It changed hands.”
“You think this was a deal gone bad?” Drago knew about fixing fights where the people in the ring didn’t have a clue about the outcome. They would pitch small time fighters with big time players that would guarantee defeat. If this was the case, then Belle’s father had to have known.
“What was the bet, Carlos?”
“This wasn’t about tapping out or being knocked out. This was a fight to the death, Drago. Belle was never supposed to leave the ring.”
Which meant that Drago had just fucked up someone else’s plans, and now he needed to find out who was in charge and why they were going after Belle.
“Good work, Carlos. Don’t do anything to get caught.”
He hung up the cell phone and sat back. This went even higher than the ring. Fights to the death were always bloody and expensive. They required cops on the payroll to look the other way. So who wanted Belle dead badly enough and why her?
Chapter Four
Belle stretched out her legs, the smooth satin caressing her skin. The pillow had the faint scent of rich musk. She bolted up into a sitting position, her heart suddenly racing.
Where am I?
Everything came rushing back—the fight, the loss, her daughter, and Drago. Bright light peeked between the slats of the blinds. She must have slept for a good twelve hours, but she’d needed the rest. More for her mind than her body. Belle’s tough outer skin was firmly back in place, and she shuddered, remembering how pathetic she’d acted last night. She’d actually cried in front of Drago, and she’d never live it down.
She had been raised never to show her weaknesses, so it was humiliating knowing she’d let her guard down. Belle slipped off the bed, all her aches and pains reminding her of the beating she’d taken. At least she was alive and on the mend.