Duparte’s soft laughter startled her. “That boy always has to do things his way, the hardest way possible.”
“What do you mean?”
“Only three things that boy’s ever been afraid of,” Duparte said. “One, not being able to protect his mother. Two, that he’s just like his father. And three, that he’ll never be good enough for you.”
“How could he think he’s not good enough for me when he’s all I’ve ever wanted? He knew that, but he dumped me anyway.”
“Your father asked him to.”
Just when Renata didn’t think she could absorb one more jolt, Duparte hit her with another. “My father.” The words felt like shards of glass. “My father asked Sebastian to break up with me?”
Duparte nodded. “You were on your way up. Everyone knew that. Just as everyone knew how protective your father was of you. So when Sebastian asked your father’s permission to marry you—”
The ground rocked beneath her. “Bas wanted to marry me?”
“From the first day he saw you in the ring. Sebastian turned to me and said, ‘That’s the girl I’m going to marry.’ He meant it too.” Duparte sighed. “Your father said no. Said it wouldn’t be fair for you to give up your dream and become a wife and mother while Sebastian continued pursuing his career. That if Sebastian really loved you, he’d put your needs above his and let you have your chance while you could still take it.”
Renata slid a trembling hand across her eyes. It sounded like something her father would have done. Boxing had been their collective dream, something they’d bonded over since she’d learned to walk. He’d pushed her but she’d wanted to be pushed. She’d wanted to make him proud. But she’d wanted Sebastian too.
“I would have,” she whispered. “If we couldn’t both box, I would have given up everything to be with Bas. I thought we’d find a way to make it work for both of us. But he said boxing was too important, it was his chance to get everything he ever wanted and he couldn’t blow it.”
Her voice cracked over the years-old pain. “We could have trained together, worked the circuit together, put off starting a family until later but he said he couldn’t be with me. And then he walked away.”
Duparte covered her hand with his. “Do you see now why he couldn’t be with you, why he had to walk away?”
“I see why he felt he had to,” she admitted. “But I see I had good reason to be mad at Bas and my father. We’ve lost five years. I could have stopped the first time I won my belt.”
“So you do want to have a family with Sebastian?”
“I’ve always wanted a family with Sebastian. I just wanted him to love me as much as I love him. I wanted him to put us first.”
Duparte sighed. “Do you know why Sebastian got into boxing?”
“He was a backyard bare-knuckle fighter,” Renata answered, not sure where Duparte was going with the conversation. “He did it to earn money to keep his mom safe and away from his father. Then his mom got him a membership to your gym and you made him a professional.”
“He’s the spitting image of his father, and he hates that. Hated that his mother was reminded of his father every time she saw Sebastian. So he’d get his face bashed in and he’d fight to get his demons out. He needed it and felt like he deserved it. It was punishment and therapy.”
“Oh, God,” she choked out. “Sebastian.”
“That boy needs you, Renata.” Duparte sat back, his expression grim. “He needs someone who can love him without conditions, someone who believes there’s good inside him.”
“Of course he’s a good man! He’s been nothing but good to me.”
“He said you think he’d be just like his father.”
Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. “Like his … oh, God.” Bile rose in her throat. Sebastian’s father had been a mean drunk who’d abused him and his mother. He was nothing like that horrible man. How could he think…?
Are you afraid of me? Of what I might do?
Yes.
She leapt to her feet, racing through the house to the front door, snatching it open. The Shelby was gone, and so were the two imports. She whirled back to Duparte as he caught up to her, her pulse racing wildly. “Where is he? I need to see him—I can’t let him go one more second believing that. He’s nothing like his father!”
Duparte pulled his keys from his pocket, then guided her out to the garage to a sleek Aston Martin. “He went to Hard Knocks, and the boys are with him.”
“Take me to him,” she pleaded. “God, he must be so hurt right now.”
Duparte disengaged the alarm, then handed her into the car. “Let him work this out of his system,” he advised. “He asked me to take you home. When he’s ready, that’s where he’ll go.”
Indecision tore at Renata. She and Bas had always pounded their frustration out on punching bags, channeling their emotions into honing their bodies. She’d done that in spades in the days and weeks after their breakup. Clarity eventually came. If he had to work through his hurt and anger so they could talk, truly talk, she’d do the same. After all, she was training for the fight of her life.
“All right. Take me home.”
***
“She’s afraid of me.”
Sebastian stood in front of the heavy bag at Hard Knocks, but couldn’t make himself throw a punch. Just the thought made his gut churn.
Renata was afraid of him.
“Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand her?” Raphael asked.
“I asked her point-blank if she was afraid of me. She said yes.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling sick. It had never crossed his mind that he could intimidate Renata. She was the one person he’d believed would never be terrified of him, but she was. She feared him and he didn’t know what he could do or say to change that. Helplessness tore at him, the same paralyzing fear he’d experienced before his body caught up with his desire to defend his mother.
“Man, you need to think clearly,” Raphael said. “She’s been with you before. She’s lived alone with you in that monster house for how long now? She wouldn’t do that if she was afraid of you.”
“Maybe she thinks she didn’t have a choice. Maybe she felt trapped.”
Gabriel snorted. “Renata’s not the meek and submissive type.”
“No, she’s not. That’s what’s making this even more fucked up.” The idea that Renata didn’t feel safe with him burned through him like acid.
Raphael sat on one of the weight benches. “So why do you think she’s afraid you’ll hurt her?”
He didn’t know. That was the problem. If he knew why she was afraid, he could take steps to fix it. “What else could it be?”
“You love her?” Gabriel asked.
His shoulders bunched defensively. What the fuck did he know about love? “She’s everything!”
“She know that?”
“Of course she does! I …” Sebastian stared at his friends. Renata knew how he felt about her, didn’t she? She had to know. How could she not know?
Duparte stepped into the gym. “Son, you’ve stepped in it good this time.”
Sebastian spun to his mentor. “Renata. Is she …?”
“She’s at the house waiting for you, alternating between anger and heartache.” Duparte shook his head. “Both of you, so hardheaded and stubborn. You need to talk this out. I want god-babies.”
Sebastian closed his eyes. Would talking be enough? “I don’t know what to say to her.”
“Tell her you love her,” Duparte advised. “Women need the words. And sometimes we do too.”
Sebastian stripped off his practice gloves, determination mixing with longing and an ego-bruising dose of uncertainty. “I’ve got to go to her.” He headed for the door and the fight of his life.
“Good luck, man,” Raphael called while Gabriel nodded encouragement.
Sebastian stepped into the night, knowing he’d need all the luck he could get. Because he wasn’t sure he was capable of givi
ng Renata the words she needed.
CHAPTER TEN
Silence pressed down on Sebastian as he let himself into the house. The house sounded empty and he knew if he botched things with Renata, that empty silence was all he had to look forward to. For a moment he wondered if Renata had left despite Duparte’s assurances, and the thought that she wasn’t there punched him like a cheap shot to the kidneys.
Dread pumped through his veins as he made his way to the second level and Renata’s bedroom. It bled to panic as he raced from her empty suite to his, calling her name. Maybe Duparte was wrong. Maybe Renata had come to her senses and decided to cut her losses. Maybe …
Just inside the doorway he stopped short. Renata sat against the headboard wearing one of his dress shirts, eyes red-rimmed but gimlet hard. Her beauty, her presence, sucked the air from his lungs, causing him to sag against the door frame in abject relief.
She spoke first. “I decided that maybe it’s time we act like rational adults and talk. So we’re going to clear the air, Sebastian Delacroix. I don’t care how long it takes, we’re going to reach an understanding.”
“I’ll start.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair and took a ragged breath. “I know no one in their right mind should want me to father their children. But God help me, I want kids with you, Rennie. I’d die before I hurt them or you. They wouldn’t want for anything in the world.”
“I know that, but Bas—”
“I’ll call my lawyer in the morning.” He gripped the door frame above him in an effort to prevent himself from reaching for her. “We’ll draw up a stringent prenuptial agreement. Punitive damages if I ever hurt you or any children we have. If I hurt you, you should have a way to hurt me.”
Shock raced across her features. Her hand tightened on the front of her shirt, then smoothed out. “No,” she said, her voice even.
“Then name your terms,” he demanded, desperation making his voice harsher than he’d intended. “You want everything? Fine, you can have it all. Just know that I can’t back down on being with you and our children. We’ll all be in this house together and you and I will continue to share a bed whether we are married or not. I lost five years. I’m not losing one second more. I’ll find a way to convince you not to be afraid. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Listen to me.” She crawled closer to him, holding his gaze. “I’m a boxer and a Sicilian Puerto Rican. Do you really think I wouldn’t go all mamma grizzly on your ass if you tried to hurt me or our kids? But it’s a moot point because I know you. You are not your father. I have never believed that, and I’m so sorry that I made you think, for even a second, that I could believe that.”
“You said you were afraid of me. Afraid of what I would do.”
“Afraid of you breaking my heart, Bas! You dumped me for your career once before. I was afraid you’d do it again.”
He jerked back, a low groan of pain crawling up his throat. “Not because of my career,” he ground out. “For yours.”
She gaped. “So what Duparte said is true? My father made you break up with me?”
“Yes.” He blew out a sigh. “Walking away … hardest damned thing I’ve ever done. I can’t regret the outcome. You made it, Renata. You became a champion. You fulfilled your father’s dying wish and he got to see you with that belt. What I’m sorry for is hurting you. I don’t like you being hurt. I just hope you’ll forgive me eventually.”
“Dad told you about his cancer,” she whispered thickly. “That’s why you did it.”
He nodded, hands tightening on the doorjamb. “I ripped my fucking heart out and proceeded to break yours. I ruined the best thing that happened to me even as I vowed to do everything I could to be worthy of having you someday. I was determined to be a success so I could give you everything you’d need to have a happy life.”
“I needed you!” Intensity tightened her voice. “How could you not know that?”
“I wanted to believe that. But your father was … he was the first man I respected as a father. His main concern was to do everything he could to help you achieve your dreams. He wanted the best for you and he’d do anything for you. I admired the hell out of him for that. It made me want to be like him one day, and I knew I needed time to get to that level of selflessness where you’re concerned. But I’m not selfless, Renata. If I were I’d let you go, but I can’t. I want you too much.”
Her eyes softened. “I know you want me, Bas, but I need more than that.”
“What? Tell me what you need, sweetheart, and I’ll do it.”
The uncertainty in her eyes stabbed at him. “If you love me, I need to know. I need the words.”
The doorjamb whined beneath his grip, his heartbeat tripping with renewed dread. “I don’t know.”
She gasped. “You don’t know if you love me?”
Her hurt expression knifed through him, goading him to attempt an explanation. “My dad said he loved my mom even when he rearranged her face. My mom said she loved him each time she forgave him and took him back. She says she loves me but she hasn’t looked me in the eye since I was sixteen because I look so much like him. That’s been my experience with love. Even I know it’s pretty fucked up.”
“Bas.” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she covered a horrified gasp.
“I can’t give you the words,” he confessed, knowing he was ruining his chances, but knowing he had to tell her the truth. “Not when I don’t know what they’re supposed to mean. What I can tell you is that I’ll do anything for you, anything to make you happy. Your laughter is my favorite sound. Your head on my shoulder is my favorite sensation. The crook of your elbow is my favorite taste. The way pleasure breaks across your face is my favorite sight. Just behind your left ear is my favorite scent. Every moment I have with you is my favorite moment and worth more to me than my championships, my companies, everything else.”
His eyes slid closed. “I bought this place because I wanted to fill it with your laughter and our kids. I know I don’t know the first thing about being a decent husband or father, and the idea frankly terrifies me, but I want to learn. I want to try. Because when I think of home …” He stopped, then started again. “When I think of what I want home and family to be for me, I think of you. Only you. Always you.”
Realizing he was close to begging, he shut his trap. He’d beg if he had to, if she wanted. If it would keep her here, keep her with him, he’d crawl over hot coals down Bourbon Street.
“Oh, Bas.” His eyes popped open as he felt her hands cup his cheeks. She smiled up at him, her beautiful eyes brilliant with tears. “You gorgeous, clueless man. You do know what love is.”
“I do?”
She nodded. “You walked away not because my father asked you to, but because you wanted what was best for me—no matter how ridiculous that was. That’s love. You welcomed me into your home, became my trainer, gave me an endorsement deal, and didn’t ask for anything in return. Why?”
He pressed his cheek into her hand, hoping. “Because I wanted to make up for hurting you.”
“Because you love me.” She pressed against him. “You’ve seen to my every need, taken care of me in your own special Neanderthal way because you love me and that’s the way you show it. Sebastian Delacroix loves me.”
A shudder swept him. “If that’s love, Rennie, then yes. I love you. I love you with every broken, flawed piece of me. Love you so much it hurts, but it’s the best kind of hurt there is.”
“I love you too, Sebastian,” she said, scrubbing at her tears. “When I’m in your arms, I feel complete and safe and home. You’re home, Bas. Being with you is being home.”
“Renata.” He wrapped her up, relief overwhelming him as he claimed her mouth with his, peppering his kisses with whispered apologies. She thrust her hands into his hair, her salty kisses interspersed with her own expressions of remorse.
It was long moments before they broke for air. He brushed her tears away with as gentle a sweep as he could manage with trembling fi
ngers. “I never want you to cry over something I did, ever again.”
“These are happy tears,” she whispered, brushing at his cheeks. “Now I need to make love with you, with both of us knowing that we love each other and belong to each other.”
“Yes. God, yes.” Clothes flew in a shower of fabric. Naked, he scooped her up in his arms then carried her over to the king-sized bed. He positioned her in the center then stood back, gazing down at her. “You’re so beautiful, Renata. Like a dream that’s finally come true. You’re mine, and you’re where you belong.”
“Yes.”
He stretched out beside her, then began to kiss her, pressing soft, full kisses to every bit of her skin. He moved slowly down her body, from forehead to cheeks, nuzzling at the sensitive spot beneath her ear, along her jaw before claiming her lips. She opened for him on a moan, the sweetest sound, proof of his ability to please her.
With every touch and kiss and stroke, he showed her how much he loved her, how much he needed her. What she had to look forward to every day for the rest of their lives, throwing her to the heights of pleasure with his hands and mouth.
“Bas,” she whimpered breathlessly when he let her back down.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m right here with you.” He rose above her and the way she smiled at him, welcomed him inside, blew everything else away. Renata was his finally and forever, and he was now home.
***
Four weeks later
Renata stood in the center of the ring, her eyes closed as the silence wrapped around her. The crowds had dispersed a while ago, followed by her very gracious opponent and a swarm of media. Her victory had been sweet, sweeter than she’d believed it would be. Sweetest because when she’d knocked down Andropova for the last time and the fight had been called, she’d run straight into her corner and into Sebastian’s arms. His exultant yell as he’d hoisted her up onto his shoulder had rolled through her like a drug. He’d been as thrilled as she’d been, her biggest and loudest cheerleader, her constant supporter, carting her around the ring, heads and shoulders above everyone. This night was truly the best of her career, and she had Sebastian to thank for it.
Knock Out (The Billionaire's Club: New Orleans) Page 9