by Mandi Beck
“I’m not running from you; I’m running for you. I have to leave to protect you. You’re too much of a big deal right now with the championship and if they hurt you to get to me, I’ll never forgive myself. If anything were to happen to yo—” Her voice breaks on a sob. It’s gotta be these fucking pregnancy hormones I’ve been reading about making her talk crazy like this out of nowhere. Either that or she’s not telling me something.
“Princess?” I ask, warning lacing my tone.
“He’s dead, Deac. Andrew is dead,” she says on a hiccupping sob. Stunned, I look up to see Reggie standing off to the side in the corner of the weight room. He nods his head in affirmation.
“What do you mean? How do you know, Frankie?”
“Agent Ri-Riley contacted me. Andrew and Agent Baird were ambushed. Both of them were killed. Sh-shot,” she stammers. “He wants me to go into protection,” Frankie informs me quietly.
“Yeah, because that shit kept Drew real fucking safe,” I spit out. She stands there, her forehead resting on my chest as she cries.
“I told them I wouldn’t go, that it didn’t save Andrew. But Deac, I have to go. I can’t stay here and risk something happening to you or my dad, any of my Loves or Joe. You’re all in danger because of me. You’ll do everything to keep me safe, but who’s going to keep all of you safe?” As she takes a deep breath and straightens her spine, her eyes find me again. “My dad is making the arrangements now. I’m going to Italy until this trial blows over. You have to be here training and don’t need to be worrying about me. You’re stressed and it’s because of me and all the extra time you’re putting in to make sure I’m okay. If I go stay with my uncle, my cousins can all keep an eye on me. I’ll be far enough away that you won’t have to worry and they won’t find me,” she says it all so quickly, like she has to hurry to get it out because it’s bullshit and it’s not gonna fly with me.
“Baby, look at me.” I wait patiently although I feel anything but. Taking a hold of her chin, I bend at the knees so that I’m peering right into the blue flames I love so much. “Look at me. Hear me, Princess. You leaving isn’t protecting me. If you go, I go. Simple as that,” I tell her matter-of-factly, raising my shoulders nonchalantly.
“Deac, the fight. You can’t. I won’t let you,” she says forcefully, like she believes she has a choice. Slowly I brush away the tears that have slipped past her lashes. Laughing softly, I just shake my head and place another soft kiss to her wrist. “Nothing matters to me more than you. You and the baby. Never doubt that.” My tone is fierce—I need her to understand what I’m saying is fact. Nothing else matters, not the belt, not the trial, not these fucks trying to stay out of prison, nothing. They may have been able to get to Drew, but I’ll kill them before they get close to her. I’ll die first.
Shaking off the darkness those thoughts take me to, I bring my focus back to my girl. Her hand in mine is so small, I marvel at all I hold, all she means to me. This tiny, strong, warrior of a woman, carrying my baby, our Love. Her running ends now. It’s not her style. Never has been until me, and I don’t fucking like it.
“I won’t let you sacrifice us to save me or you anymore. I see what it’s doing to the both of us and it fucking stops, here and now, Frankie. I don’t need you to protect me from shit else but you, baby.” Leaning down I kiss the left corner of her mouth, brushing my lips softly against hers before doing the same to the right and then finally covering her mouth fully with my own. With a low groan, I break away. I can’t allow myself to get swept up in her right now. Not with Sonny and the wrestler waiting on me, not with everything we just discussed, although every part of me wants to sweep her up and love her into seeing that I would always keep her safe.
Her eyes are still closed when I pull away and smile. “No more running, Princess. If you don’t trust me to keep you safe, then we’ll go to Italy. You aren’t going anywhere by yourself, you feel me?” She nods in agreement though I can tell she isn’t thrilled about this turn of events. Oh well. She thinks I’m unreasonable, I know it. She hasn’t seen shit yet. My girl. My baby. My way.
As Bo pulls up in front of the EWF headquarters, I slap him on the shoulder and follow my brothers out of the Rover. My pop and Guy are already up there, hopefully sweet-talking the bigwigs into letting me fight. This meeting is a huge fucking deal. It could be the end of my career depending on what they decide. I pull my suit jacket closed, buttoning it as I walk beside Mav and Sonny, straightening the pink tie around my neck that they’ve been blowing me shit for.
Mav looks over at me and shakes his head. “I’ve never met another man alive who wears as much pink as your ass does.” Straightening his own more conservative blue tie, he shoots me a pointed look, gesturing toward it. “You should’ve worn something a little more manly. They’re gonna see that tie and ask themselves, ‘Is this guy badass enough to be the EWF champion?’” Clucking his tongue at me like a disapproving little old lady, “Just saying, you’ve got your work cut out for you as it is, you might have made it a little easier is all.”
“You about done, Maverick?” Sonny bites out. “The color of his tie is the least of his fucking worries.” Mid-step he turns to me, making both Mav and I come to an abrupt stop. “For once in your life, Deac, I need you to keep your cool. I’m sure Pop already lectured you, but listen to me, okay, little brother?” He pauses and peers into my eyes, willing me to hear what he’s saying. “These men don’t give a fuck about anything but winning, keeping fans interested, and their noses clean. We can’t tell them shit as it is, so you let Pop and Guy do most of the talking. They’re a bunch of suits who have little to no respect for some young punk fighter who can’t keep his temper in check and that’s exactly how they see you. These guys aren’t Derek—they don’t have a passion for the sport, they just see the dollar signs. Show them your worth, Deac.” Not expecting a response he nods and turns back to the doors. “Let’s go finish this shit so we can put it behind us and really start training.”
The fuck did he say? Start training? My feelings must be written across my face because Mav laughs and elbows me in the ribs.
“Yeah, pussy. Start training,” he mocks as he follows Sonny into the cool interior of the building.
Sometimes I hate these fuckers.
After three grueling hours of trying not to lose my shit and allowing men who have no clue what the sport of MMA is really about pick me apart, we’re heading back out to the car. Pink tie hanging untied around my neck, I can feel the tension leave my body. This huge goddamn weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
Sonny claps me on the back. “I’m proud of you, Deacon. There just might be hope for my hot-headed baby brother yet,” he chides as he takes his sports coat off and hops into the front seat.
Maverick snorts. “Yeah, right!”
“Nah, probably not, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” I slap Mav on the back of the head as I slide in behind him.
As we pull away from the curb, I pull out my phone to text Frankie. She knows I had another meeting today, but I still haven’t told her the extent of the trouble I had been in with the Federation. She would feel guilty and I didn’t want that. Bringing up her name, I shoot her a text.
Me: All is good, baby. See you when I get home.
My arm on the back of the seat, I listen to my brothers go over schedules and promo shit. I don’t even bother trying to get involved in that whole conversation. Sonny shoots Mav down when he starts talking about bringing Leo in to help with some of the training. It’s a sore spot for Sonny. I think he felt that Leo had taken his place the years that I trained with him. Leo couldn’t though. Nobody could. Yes, their styles were similar, which is why I didn’t mind training with Leo when I couldn’t train with my brother, but there’s no one in the world I’d rather win fights with. I hope he realizes that. I’m just about to tell him when my phone chirps.
Frankie: I’ll be waiting. Don’t take the suit off. Make sure you bring the tie.
Jes
us fuck. I think my girl just told me to tie her up.
In Frankie’s new meeting room at the back of the gym, I sit on the fancy ass loveseat with her tucked into my side listening to Indie lose her fucking mind. “No, I don’t think you fucking understand. People are crazy. They want me to plan these weird ass fetish parties for them, and when I tell them I do weddings, showers, bar mitzvahs and shit, not fuckfests, they get all uppity! Like I’m the asshole.” She huffs in disgust. “This is why I need to write full-time. Because then I won’t have to deal with the crazies of the world, only the ones in my head!”
It’s obvious that me being cleared to fight is a huge weight lifted off all of our shoulders. My brothers, Reggie, and Frankie are all laughing their asses off while I just look at Indie in absolute amazement. Where does she find these fucking people? Before I can open my mouth, there’s a light knock on the wall.
I glance up to see Cristiano standing in the opening, tapping an envelope against his hand. Smirking at his murderous glare, I greet him, “Flashdance.” I was told that he hadn’t left yet, I just haven’t seen him. Reggie and my brothers are watching him and I can see Indie’s head ping-ponging between him and I. I think she’s spoiling for a fight after all of her ranting.
His gaze turns more hateful than it was, if even possible. Ignoring me completely, he approaches, “Francesca, this is for you.” His tone is soft when he speaks to her. I fucking hate it. “I just wanted to drop by to see if I can help with anything.” He points to her bump, “You’re getting bigger, must be hard to dance like that. You look beautiful though; pregnancy agrees with you.”
“Thank you, Cristiano,” she says as she reaches for the manila square he holds out to her, careful to not give him any encouragement, lest she get him killed. A little fucked up that she even has to worry about that, but at least I’m consistent and she’s smart.
He has to step closer to me to hand it over and I refuse to make myself smaller for him. I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing here or what he thinks he’s going to help with, but it’s not gonna happen. She already told him to leave once. I’m worried that the chance of her doing it again isn’t in my favor.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Spain by now?” My shoulders lift in question, face twisted in disdain. Flashdance opens his mouth to answer, but he’s cut off by the frightened gasp that comes from Frankie.
“Princess, what is it?” The hand covering her mouth is trembling as well as the one holding whatever has her upset. Taking the piece of paper from her, I see that it’s actually a photo.
“Motherfucker!” I roar, surging to my feet. I have Cristiano against the wall before anyone has a chance to react. His head hitting the wall with a satisfying thunk, little pieces of plaster floating down around him. My arm banded across his throat, I shove the picture in his face. “Did you take this picture? Huh?” I demand, spittle flying from my lips as a haze of red-hot rage makes my vision start to fade around the edges. My blood is screaming through my veins, my muscles tensed and ready to rip his ass apart. His eyes widen in fear when I put more pressure against his throat. “You better fucking answer me. Did you take this?” Arms pulling me back, I release him enough to let him talk, but not completely.
I can hear Frankie crying softly, Indie consoling her. Sonny and Mav on either side of me, closing in around him. Reggie is still holding on to me, preventing me from crushing his trachea, which I was most likely on the verge of doing.
Mav reaches for the picture in my hand. I bring my arm up out of reach shaking my head no. There is no way anyone else is gonna see this. Eyebrows raised in question, he jerks his chin at me asking me what the fuck. Gaze boring into Cristiano’s, I tell him. “This bold motherfucker just walked in here and handed my girl a picture. A picture of the two of us together in bed. My fucking bed,” I seethe. “Now you want to tell me how the fuck you got a picture of us in my house?” When he still doesn’t answer, I use my arm to push him harder into the wall, making his head thump against it again.
“Deac, ease up. He can’t tell you anything if you knock him out,” Sonny scolds.
“I’m not easing up shit. He has a fucking picture of Frankie. Naked. In my home. I want to how the fuck that happened.” Never mind that I’m in the picture too. That I don’t care about. What I care about is that some sick fuck took a picture of us. With my girl spread out on the bed for me. Only for me. The atmosphere changes a bit once my brothers and Reggie learn exactly what Cristiano gave her. Their anger mixes with mine and the air crackles with it.
“Indie, take the Princess and go give Detective Adams a call for me,” Sonny orders calmly.
“Okay, Jameson. Let’s go, Frankie. They can handle this,” Indie coaxes.
“D-Deacon?” Frankie stammers out tearfully.
“Go ahead, baby. Listen to Sonny. Stay with Indie though and then go find Pop. Don’t come back in here; I’ll come get you.” I try to keep my tone as neutral as I can even though on the inside I already have this motherfucker dead, I’m so livid.
“Let him go. He’s not going anywhere,” Maverick assures me, placing himself in front of the entrance. There isn’t a door on the room, so we aren’t able to just lock him in. Not that he has a chance in hell of getting away from us anyway. When I don’t release my hold on him right away, Reggie tugs on my arm.
“It’s okay, bro. He’s gonna answer all of our questions. Ain’t that right, Flashdance?” Reggie prompts.
He tries to nod his head but can’t, instead managing a strangled sounding, “Yes.”
Reluctantly, I drop my arms and pace away from them to stop myself from going at him again.
Sonny doesn’t waste a single moment. “How did you get the picture, Cristiano?”
“I had no idea what it was. I swear,” he replies in a rushed panic. “I was walking into the gym when a man stopped me. He said he recognized me from dancing with Francesca.” My back is turned as he speaks, gazing down at the picture. My vision blurs with rage all over again at what whoever took this picture saw. “He—he seemed like he knew her. The man just asked if I could please give that to her. I didn’t think anything of it. I swear I had no idea what it was. I would never hurt her.” Cristiano is desperate for us to believe him. It’s evident in his words. I just don’t give a fuck.
Picture clutched in my fist, I whirl around and stalk over to him, Reggie stopping me before I can put hands on him. Leaning into his arm, I struggle to get closer to Flashdance. “You expect me to believe that you had nothing to fucking do with this? Why the fuck aren’t you gone, huh? You sticking around here to make sure that she doesn’t talk?” My voice is raised, people in the gym looking our way in concern.
“Deac, lock it up. We don’t need an audience, brother,” Mav warns.
“Why the fuck aren’t you gone?” I repeat, my voice lowered, the heat behind my words cranked way the hell up.
“I—I love her. I would never hurt Francesca. I’m prepared to leave my whole life in Spain for her.” Cristiano stuns me with his admission. Not because I’m surprised by the words but that he had the balls to say them. “You don’t deserve her. You, you’ll just break her in the end. Look at all the pain you’ve already caused. You don’t deserve her,” he states firmly.
In a lightning quick move, I’m able to get a hold of his shirt, dragging him forward even as Reggie and Sonny try holding me back. Almost nose-to-nose, I snarl in a lethal tone, “She’s mine, you fuck. Don’t you dare fucking tell me who or what she deserves. You don’t know shit. You have no idea about what we have.” Scoffing, I toss him away from me. “Flashdance, you think you love her. Maybe you do. I can fucking promise you that you feel nothing compared to what I feel for that woman. My whole goddamn life, she’s been the center of my world.” I brush Reggie’s arm away; I’m finished with this asshole. “I told you that I would go to war for her. You though? You left her when she wouldn’t conform to your perfect little vision of life as a dancing team. So you can fuck off back to Spain. She ma
de her choice. It’s not you. I fought for her. I’ll never stop. She’s mine,” I reiterate heatedly.
The tension in the room is palpable, the energy electric. Cristiano turns to leave and Mav steps in his path. “Oh, I don’t think so, amigo. If you think you’re leaving before you talk to the cops, you’re even crazier than I thought a minute ago when you tried my brother,” Maverick scoffs. “If what you’re saying is true about this random guy, then he’s still out there, watching the Princess. That’s not okay. I would try to keep my fucking mouth shut until they get here though so that you’re still breathing when they show,” he warns. “You’re one word away from getting your ass handed to you by my little brother, and to be honest, I’m not feeling much friendlier toward your dumb ass.”
My phone pings alerting me that I have a text.
Indie: Cops are here, headed your way. We’re with Trent and your dad in his office.
Me: Is she okay?
Indie: Yeah. She’s fine now. Worried about you killing the asshole I think.
Me: Tell her I love her.
Pocketing my phone, I cross my arms over my chest. “Adams is here; Indie sent her back. Pretty soon you’ll be their fucking problem, not mine anymore.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong. I just wanted to see her and you never allow it,” Flashdance says petulantly.
“I never let you? You shouldn’t even fucking be here! She told you a long time ago to go back to Spain, yet here the hell you are. Why is that? Did you honestly think that she would come back to you?” I laugh humorlessly. “You had your chance, you blew it. Didn’t really matter though; she was never yours to begin with. Frankie was always gonna be mine.” My smile mirrors the confidence in my words.
“Gentlemen, is there a problem?” Detective Adams asks from behind Maverick. He steps aside so that she can enter. “Mr. Love.” She meets all of our eyes briefly, encompassing us all in her greeting.