"Put the phone down," he whispered in her ear. She dropped the phone. "Good. Let's not make this harder than it needs to be. Like I said, I didn't come here to hurt you."
Her scalp burned at his clenching grip, only forcing her to tears she didn't have strength to fight.
"See, the thing with me is...I always get my way." The cold barrel grazed her face and she cringed at its touch. "What about that little shelter you run? It would be a shame to see it go out of business, now would it?"
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me. In case you don’t know, I'm a very powerful man. Who knows some very powerful people that would shut that piece of shit down, quicker than you could blink."
His cold threat struck shivers down her spine.
"Or better yet, maybe you would prefer this..." He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. She gasped at the sudden images that appeared on the screen. It was none other than herself and Cameron having sex in her bedroom. The images as clear as day, she could see every speckle of their features through the colored screen. Their moans reverberated through the speakers as they engaged in pleasure, and the haunting sight only made her nauseous.
"H-how did you get this?"
He snickered. "I have my ways, baby."
She wanted to vomit. He had been spying on her. She couldn't believe it. She had never felt so violated in her entire life.
"You see that right there? All I have to do is make one phone call, and this will be all over the media. In front of the entire world. And trust me, baby...I'll make your life a living hell. Fuck with me."
She turned her head, unable to take anymore.
"Okay, I'll do it."
"What? I didn't hear you."
"I said I'll do it! Just shut it off."
"Okay, good girl." He released his grip and stepped back. Tears fell down her face as he retrieved the DVD from the system. He approached her with a sigh. "Sorry, it had to be this way, beautiful. It’s just business."
He kissed the envelope and placed it on the coffee table. He then left her house without a trace.
Chapter 39
Her heart ached for what she was about to do. She hadn't slept all night. She had been up, pacing, thinking, and crying. She thought about telling Cam what had occurred between her and his manager, but she couldn't risk her chances. His threat sounded so adamant. And she knew deep down, he wasn't the one to take lightly. So, she had no choice.
She had even rationalized. Convincing herself that she was doing Cameron a favor. She didn't want to be the reason he lost a fight. With her out of the picture, he would attain the victory he had worked so hard for.
It wasn't like they were serious anyway...right? They weren't in love. Or married. They didn't have a family together. Cameron could have any woman he wanted. He didn't need her. He would be fine, regardless. She had to remember that.
Reese looked at the time. He would be here any minute now. She had been calling his phone endlessly, hoping to save him the trip here. But he never picked up. And now, she had no choice but to face him.
The ring of the bell halted her thoughts.
She froze.
Reese stared at the door, her heart pounding her in chest.
The bell rang again.
Quickly wiping her face, she trudged to the door with deep breaths. She grasped the knob and opened the door.
And there he stood. Looking as attractive as ever in his casual blue cashmere sweater, jeans, fresh sneakers with his low ceaser neatly cut. The light in those eyes that always managed to warm her heart, dampened her spirit. A slight frown etched his face, as his gaze fell to her silk nightgown.
"Sup, baby. You're not dressed?"
"Uh, I tried calling earlier but I couldn't get a hold of you."
"Yeah, I've been tryna get you too. But that stupid thing's been acting up all morning."
She glanced across at the black Cadillac parked in front, only to meet Slick's piercing glare through the window. She blinked away.
"How come you're not dressed?" He stepped inside and closed the door. "We gotta head out, the flight's in a couple hours."
"I'm not going."
"What?" His head spun to her.
She grew quiet.
"What do you mean, you're not going?"
"It's just best if I stay back."
"What? Why?"
"It just is."
He gave her a confused look, then shook his head. "C'mon, Reese stop playing. Where's your stuff? It's time to—"
"We need to end this," she blurted out.
Her words cut through the air like blade.
He stood there without a word.
"What?" his voice lulled into a whisper.
She stared at the tile floor, unable to face his stare.
"Reese, what are you talking about?"
"It's not working out between us."
"What do you mean it's not working out between us?"
She didn't respond, her heart tightening with unbearable pain.
"Reese..." He walked closer. "What's the matter? Where is all this coming from?"
"I'm sorry..."
He rubbed her face, soothing her with his soft touch. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"We can't be together."
"Why do you keep saying we can't be together?"
"We just can't!"
He fell silent.
"You're better off without me," she said in a softer tone.
"That's not true. We belong—"
"It is true."
"Look, I know you're scared…” He placed a finger on her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. Those warm brown eyes, filled with such sincerity only burned her heart with sheer guilt. "But I'm not him. I'd never do what he did. Ever."
As she found herself falling deeper, she stepped back. "Let's not fool ourselves, Cameron. This will never work."
"It will. You just gotta believe it."
She had to remember who she was dealing with. Cameron was a fighter. Never the one to back down. Like his manager said, his heart was too big. He was going to fight for her, no matter what. And she had to defeat him. Break him down where it hurt.
His heart.
"Remember what I said about fear?" he added. "You gotta face that shit, baby. Don't let it stop you from being happy. You don't deserve—"
"Oh, please. You think you make me happy?" She glared at him. "You make me sick! That's what you make me."
He blinked with shock. Her cold words even surprised her, and she wondered where they had derived from.
"Sure it's been fun. The sex has been great. But let's not fool ourselves, Cameron. This isn't going anywhere. What did you expect? That we were going to drive off into the sunset? Get married? Start a life together? Please. I'd be a damn fool."
His face plastered with hurt, as he stood there without a word. And it surprised her. She expected him to lash out. Curse at her. Yell. Do something. But he didn't. Instead, he took every word she spewed, like a young child being berated by his own mother. And god, that cut her deeper than she could ever imagine. But despite the agonizing pain, she kept going. Her words were rolling off of her tongue, quicker than her mind could process. And she didn't allow herself to stop. She had to cut him as deep as she could. Until he hated her.
"I mean, seriously. I'm a grown ass woman. What do I look like being with a little boy your age? A reckless athlete with a horrible reputation and no morals? Why don't you go do what you do best and go fuck one of your groupies somewhere?"
His jaw bulged, as his foot tapped the floor. He was fuming now.
She kept going.
"I'm a self-respecting woman with standards. The last thing I need, is to be with a disgusting rapi—"
Her back slammed the wall and she gasped in shock. His fingers dug into her arms, as the fiery rage in his eyes burned her soul. She winced in pain, as he clenched his nails deeper into her skin, clawing her with a stinging burn.
"Say that shit again," he dared through clench
ed teeth. "Say it!"
She remained silent.
She wouldn't dare.
His nose flaring, he nodded. "Now, I see why the nigga beat your ass."
Her heart pained at his cold words.
He shoved her away and stepped out, slamming the door behind him.
Chapter 40
Cam tapped his foot restlessly, as he forced himself to hold his composure. It took his all not to reach across that stage and beat the beady eyed, rat looking motherfucker senseless.
Tonight, was the pre-fight press conference, held at the MGM Grand Hotel & Casino. With the fight just 3 days away, Cam was more than ready to attain his victory once again. Fight week was always a busy one. With press conferences, interviews, club appearances, and everything else to go along with it, the promotion for the fight had been at an all-time high. It was going to be the fight of the year. And Cam was ready to show out.
It was his first time seeing Chavez since the fight a year ago. He didn't expect to feel such pent up rage being in his presence again. But just looking at his face, brought him back to the dark moments of being in prison, as his life spiraled out of control. Just to know he had contributed to his downfall, Cam wanted nothing more than to seek vengeance.
Cam sat on stage behind the head table with Slick seated beside him, while Chavez's boxing promotor and manager sat at the other end of the stage.
As Chavez stood behind the podium, giving his speech, journalists, news reporters, and crowds of spectators and fans cheered and snapped pictures.
When Chavez finished his speech, he walked to his seat and Slick approached the podium.
"There's no need for the introduction," he announced to the crowd. "It's time for the champion to bless the stage and give his word."
Cheers echoed the room. Cam stood up and walked to the podium, giving Slick a brotherly hug, who stepped aside and cleared way for Cam's entrance. He stood before the podium, staring at the crowd, as flashing camera lights glinted throughout the room.
"The last time I was here on this stage, I said I was gonna win the title. And I did. A year later, I'm on this same stage, and I'm saying it right now. Nobody’s taking my title away from me. I’ll die before I let that happen."
The fans howled.
"March 28th is gonna be a special day. And I'm ready to do what I do best, which is win. And just so you know, this fight ain't just about business. It's a little bit more personal. And he knows why." Cam shot him a glare and Chavez head nodded him with a smile that he urged to knock off. "See you in the ring, bitch."
The crowd cheered louder, and he stepped away from the podium.
*
Smoke danced from Cam's lips with each pull from his Cuban cigar. He soaked up the atmosphere, lusting at the sultry curves of the exotic dancers on stage under the gleaming lights. Crowds of patrons hovered around the stage, entertained by the show the dancers gave in the midst of dollar bills showering the vicinity. Future's new hit, Fuck Up Some Commas pounded the speakers as cigarette smoke, weed, liquor, and perspiration tainted the murky air. Bobbing his head to the music, he tossed dollar bills into the air. He had a stack of 10 grand and he planned to use it.
He was celebrating the night at yet another pre-fight party. From one party to the next, Cameron didn't slow down one bit. He didn't allow himself to.
But even in the midst of it all. The women. The drugs. The music. The bright lights. It had all whirled into a blur, with nothing but the painful thoughts of Reese plaguing his brain. And it enraged him by the second.
He wanted to forget about her.
He couldn't believe he had been so stupid. His boys were right, he had been a simp, professing his "love" for some bitch that didn't want him. He was Cameron Lewis. A star. A champion. The fuck did he look like crying over a bitch?
He took more shots of Vodka and more hits of his weed, determined to enjoy himself.
Chapter 41
Reese vomited into the toilet bowl once again. With a groan, she leaned weakly over the brim, wondering what was going on with her. Lately, she had been getting sick for no explainable reason. From headaches to nausea. She attested it to stress. Especially, since these past few days had been unbearable.
She felt horrible for what she had done. She just wished she could speak to him. To explain everything and let him know that she didn't mean for things to happen this way. And most of all, to tell him how truly sorry she was for hurting him and ruining what they had.
The ring of her phone made her roll her eyes. She didn't want to speak to anyone. She didn't even want to leave her house. Instead, she spent her days in isolation, wallowing in pity and senseless guilt. If it wasn't Cameron calling her, she didn't care one bit.
Reese forced herself up and brushed her teeth. She had no plans at all. Tonight, she would've been seated front row, cheering for Cameron on his big night. But here she was. Alone.
She entered her bedroom only to grimace at the bright glare of the sun. She closed her blinds, dimming the room
The sound of her phone signified that she had received a text message. Praying it was Cameron, she hurried to her nightstand and picked it up. Her mood dampened at Yasmine's name. She read the message.
Yas
3/28/15, 9:32am
U doing okay??
She typed a simple reply.
Reese
3/28/15, 9:32am
Yeah.
Yas
3/28/15, 9:33am
U sure? Don't let me catch a flight straight back to NY.
And she really would, too. Since the break up, Yasmine had been constantly checking up on her to see if she was doing okay. And although, she wasn't, she didn't want to ruin her trip in Vegas. As Cameron's publicist, she had an important job to do. The last thing she needed was a distraction on the biggest event of the year. So Reese kept her issues to herself.
Reese
3/28/15, 9:40am
I'm fine really. Have fun in Vegas.
Yas
3/28/15, 9:41am
Alright keep ya head up boo. Love ya xoxo
Reese
3/28/15, 9:41am
Love you too. And thanks I will.
With a sigh, Reese put her phone down and plopped herself on the bed. She threw her covers over her, forcing herself to sleep. She just wanted to forget this whole nightmare. But she couldn't. Her thoughts raced. Cameron's words haunting her by the second.
We all got something we're scared of. All of us. But we shouldn't let that stop us from achieving what we really want...even if that means risking our hearts in the process.
Tears fell down her face. She blew it. She let fear stop her from what her heart truly desired. If she wanted Cameron, she should've fought for him, the way he always did for her. She had come this far and had been through so much, just to give up on her happiness. And she couldn’t allow that to happen. She had to take that chance. Even if that meant putting her whole life and reputation at risk.
Reese hopped out of bed.
It was time to go to Vegas.
Chapter 42
Cam bobbed his head to 50 Cent's, Ready For War as it pounded through his headphones. His adrenaline pumped to the up tempo beat, while he sat in the chair, glaring at the carpeted floor.
Everything around him had drifted into oblivion. He barely focused on his trainer whom was busy wrapping his hands intricately under the Boxing Commissioner’s piercing gaze. Neither did he focus on the TV cameras, nor the chattering noises of his entourage and TV journalists that crowded the dressing room. Instead, he envisioned himself in the ring. Beating Chavez till he screamed for mercy.
He was ready for war.
After his trainer laced up his gloves, Cameron clenched his fists, basking in the feeling of it on his hands.
Slick placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ready to kill em out there?"
Cam nodded, glaring ahead.
He patted his back. "That's what I'm talking about. It's your time, baby."
"Ladi
es and gentlemen, now entering the ring...the undefeated, heavyweight champion of the worrrrldddd...Cameron Lewis!!!"
The place erupted with excitement, as Biggie's song, Victory pounded through the arena. Escorted by security, Cameron made his entrance, his demeanor edged with confidence. He strolled toward the ring, his heart pumping at the roaring noises of the crowd. It gave him a high. Something only an athlete of his caliber could understand.
He lived for this.
Cameron entered the ring. The referee and the announcers stood at the center, while his opponent, Chavez, stood at the corner crowded by his own entourage. Cam climbed the ropes and peered over the massive crowd beaming with bright camera lights and he nodded, basking in the sounds of his chanting name.
He stepped down. His trainer removed his robe, baring him in his black trunks, the waistband stitched with the gold lettering, 'C. Lewis.’
"Ladies and Gentlemen, it's time for the main event...the moment you've all been waiting for!" The grey haired announcer spoke, as everyone else in the ring cleared way for the two fighters.
Cameron glared at Chavez, his insides bursting to attack like a Pitbull on its leash.
"Let's get readyyyy to rumbleeee!"
The referee recounted the rules between them.
Both fighters touched gloves. The bell went off.
It was show time.
*
"Ugh! Can’t you go any faster?" Reese complained to the cab driver.
"Wah, you want me fi run thru the red light? Eh?” He snapped in his Caribbean accent.
"Well, how much time do we have till we get there?"
"One hour."
She scoffed. "An hour?"
"Yes."
Great.
Just fucking great.
Reese fidgeted with impatience. Cameron should be fighting any minute now, and here she was, stuck in traffic.
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