Keep your hands up, I reminded myself. Nobody’s gonna protect you but you. That was the real truth, right there. Inconvenient? Sure. Hurtful? Hell yeah. But the truth often was. That was why nobody liked hearing it, why people went to such incredible lengths to cover it up with a heap of lies. If Parker had told me she was a reporter from day one, I never would have told her about what I did for a living, never would have let her into my heart, my home, my history. And she knew it, too, which was why she’d lied to me about it. She knew she was doing something wrong from the start.
Okay, so she had good intentions. Fine. But wasn’t that what the road to Hell was paved with? That was what I was going through now, because of her—Hell.
I heard the training room door shut and looked up briefly from the bag I was terrorizing. It was Vic, headed toward me with a big envelope. That must be my winnings from last night. I pulled the hood off my head and ran a hand through my sweaty hair, giving him a curt nod of greeting.
“Hey there, Killer. What’s up?”
“What’s it look like, Vic?” I asked. I didn’t mean to be rude, but fuck, what did he think was going on after that bombshell he’d dropped on me the night before?
Vic looked the bag over, shaking his head. “Looks like you let that reporter girl get under your skin. Don’t worry about her so much, huh? You’re better off.” He extended the envelope to me. “Here. This is your cut. Don’t spend it all in one place, you hear? Especially if you’re lookin’ for some time off.”
“Do me a favor, Vic,” I said, opening up the envelope. “Don’t talk about Parker. You don’t know half of what was going on between us, and you never will. Shit between us is way more complicated than you make it out to be.”
“What’s complicated about it?” he asked. “She lied to you. Used you. She was gonna take you away from us, your family. Or at least, take us away from you. She was no good for you, Killer. You got a career here. A life.” I fingered through the cash in the envelope as I listened to him ramble on about shit he didn’t know the first thing about. “You can’t just go givin’ your heart out to every new piece of strange that waltzes in here, y’know?”
“Where’s the rest of this?” I said, holding up the envelope.
Vic spread his hands. “What do you mean, ‘the rest of it’? That’s all there is. Your winnings, minus my cut.”
“I thought you said the payout was ten thousand on this one?”
“Well, sure, Killer,” Vic said. “That’s what you were lookin’ at before fees. There’s your fight fee, the one you pay every time you step onto the mat so’s you get the opportunity to win big. Then there’s my manager’s fee, and then there’s your princely sum. C’mon, you get the lion’s share. That’s how this works, remember?”
I stared at the money in my hand. I knew about the fees. If you wanted the bigger prize money, you had to be willing to put a little money down. That was how they prioritized things, like how they did in strip clubs, where if the girls wanted to dance on a lucrative night, they had to pay for the privilege. That all made sense. But still, that left me with only five thousand dollars. How in the hell did that work out?
“How much was the fight fee?” I asked him.
“Hey, Killer,” Vic answered, “if you’re not happy with your pay, you can always take on the harder fights. The real illegal ones.”
No. That was shit I would never do. What we did here was brutal enough, but some of the other stuff I’d heard about was like something out of a snuff film. Duels to the death. Fighting with weapons. Gladiatorial-style combat. The hazard pay was high on shit like that, but the cost could be my life. Or someone else’s. No way I was putting myself in that position, or contributing to anyone’s death. Not anymore, anyway. If I wanted to still do that, I’d have stayed in the Corps.
“That’s not for me,” I said, stuffing the money back in the envelope. Five thousand wasn’t bad, really, especially since it was my third fight of the month. And it was way more than I’d gotten paid before. “I just… thought it’d be more. Closer to what you quoted me. You know?”
“Yeah, these fight fees are really screwin’ everyone over,” Vic said, patting my back. “If I had the power to change it, kid, I would. But there’s only so much that even Vic Dallas can do. C’mon, cheer up. Shit, for some people, that’s a down payment on a house.”
I nodded. It sure was. And on any other day, I’d have thought Vic was being straight with me. But after what happened with Parker, I didn’t know anything about anyone anymore.
“We’ll talk about it later,” I said, tossing the envelope onto a nearby bench and going at the bag again. “See you later, Vic.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Vic said, staring at me for a few moments, studying me with his bloodshot eyes. “But like I said, Killer, if you want a bigger profit, you’re gonna have to put yourself out there for some shit you might not like to do.”
“I never do the shit I like to do,” I said, driving my fist harder into the bag. “That’s my whole fuckin’ life, Vic.” Or at least it was, before Parker showed up. With her, things had felt different. I’d actually been loving life a little. Now that she was gone, exposed as just another pretty lie, it was like all color had been drained out of the world. I hated it.
So when Vic said, “I’m just tellin’ you how it is, Killer. You’re gettin’ your fair share, and anybody tells you otherwise is lyin’ through their damn teeth,” it took everything in me not to turn on him and ask him again, specifically, how much was the fucking fight fee? Because it hadn’t exactly gone unnoticed that he’d refused to answer that question.
“Leave me alone, Vic,” I warned him. “Now.”
“All right, all right,” Vic said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Over his shoulder, though, he added, “But you’re better off, Killer. Trust me. Women are nothin’ but trouble.”
Fuckin’ Vic, I thought, hitting the bag over and over and over. Always has to have the last word.
As soon as he left me alone and I heard the door close behind him, I put everything I had into beating that bag to a pulp. I thought of Parker’s face and all the lies she’d fed me. I thought of how good she’d made me feel and how none of it was real. I thought about how, for the first time in a long time, I’d felt like there was hope in my life. And how she’d taken that away from me, robbed me blind of the most precious thing I had—the very gift she gave me.
You’re never gonna be like the rest of those people out there, Kellan. You’re a weapon. You’re a monster. This is the only thing you’re good at. The only thing you’re good for.
I repeated that mantra in my head every time I sunk my fist into the bag, over and over and over again until one of its seams burst and it spilled its contents all over the floor.
I took a step back and regarded my handiwork, breathing hard, the cold air stinging the back of my throat. The pain and destruction felt good, felt right to me. They soothed my soul in a way that nothing else could.
You’re a weapon, Kellan Jarvis. That’s all you’ll ever be. This is where you belong. And fuck Parker for trying to make you think any differently.
Maybe that was true, but when it came down to it, false hope was the worst kind of weapon of all.
Chapter 14
Parker
“Jesus, Parker. You look like hell.”
Not exactly the first thing a girl wants to hear in the morning, but since it was coming from Thom’s mouth, I understood it could’ve been a hell of a lot worse.
And he wasn’t exactly wrong, either. I had deep, dark circles under my eyes the color of fresh bruises that no amount of concealer could get rid of, and my throat was thick and scratchy from too much wine. That’s what I’d done as soon as I got home last night: drank myself into a stupor where I imagined that what had happened between Kellan and I didn’t matter to me at all.
Now, in the harsh light of day, I saw how much of a lie that was. I’d woken up hoping it was all a dream, just some horrible ni
ghtmare, but the truth was that I’d fucked up with Kellan big-time, and I was paying for it in spades.
It was stupid of me to have gotten so attached to him in such a short amount of time. I’d let him get into my head and my heart, and what did I have to show for it? Some decent memories of some decent sex, that was what.
Okay, so those memories were actually fantastic, just like the sex had been. But they were bittersweet, too, because at this point, I was pretty sure that I was never going to see Kellan again. At least, not in the way I wanted to.
“Vic ratted us out,” I said at last to Thom. I rubbed my eyes, heedless of my mascara. “Kellan thinks we’re trying to ruin him now. We had a fight. I don’t think we can count on him being on our side anymore.”
Thom frowned. “What did he say? I mean, did he understand we were trying to help?”
“No, he was too angry to understand much of anything. I mean, I know that, and you know that,” I said, wiping the black smears I’d accrued on my finger with a napkin from my desk drawer. “But Kellan’s not so sure. And how could he be? I’ve lied to him before, after all.”
“You didn’t lie,” Thom assured me. “You just omitted the truth.” I shot him a glare and he sighed. “Okay, so it’s basically the same thing. But you didn’t do it to hurt him. Surely he’ll see reason, given some time.”
“I don’t think so,” I sighed. “Kellan doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, and he doesn’t let people in unless he thinks they’re worth it. I was something special to him, and I fucked up. I was trying too hard to be Melanie Cartwright instead of Parker Jones.”
“Well, at least you’ve realized it now,” Thom said, rubbing my shoulders. Anywhere else, it would’ve been workplace harassment, regardless of what I said to the contrary, but here, everyone knew Thom and his intentions were good. “So the next thing to do is stop dwelling in the past and see if you two can have a future. And I think I know just the way.”
“Seriously?” I asked, slumping in my chair. Thom’s fingers were magic. It really was a shame he was gay, though I was sure Andy wouldn’t have shared my opinion on the matter. “You have a plan for this?”
“I do,” he answered, popping one of the knots in my neck. “Remember how I said the real winners in all of this are the managers, because they keep so much of the money that their fighters can never retire?”
I nodded, tilting my head back to look up at him. “Yeah. I just never got to tell Kellan that because he was so pissed.”
“Well, what if someone else told him? Someone who wasn’t fucking him?”
I smirked. “I take it that’s you? Unless I’ve really misread the situation…”
Thom grinned. “Yes, I mean me. Give me his address and I’ll swing by and let him know what’s going on. I’m a man. He’ll listen to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Great, so sexism is alive and well, I see.”
“He’s angry with you, Parker. And when straight men get angry at one woman, they get angry at all women. You could tell him the God’s honest truth right now about anything, and he wouldn’t believe you. Hell, he’d argue with you that the sky isn’t blue. That’s just how they are.”
“Lucky for me, I have an awesome gay friend who would never be so irrational,” I said, sitting up as Thom took his magic hands away. I stretched my shoulders. They really did feel much better now, and I was starting to feel better about this whole thing, too.
“In all seriousness, Thom, it would mean the world to me if you’d talk to Kellan. If he knows what’s going on, maybe he can get Victor Dallas to pay him what he’s owed, and then he’ll get the hell out of that life for good.”
After all, that had been Kellan’s chief complaint last night, other than the fact that I was a lying shrew, apparently. He needed money, and he needed it now. He needed to be able to sustain himself while the bill I was harassing Senator MacFarlane about was signed into law. Hell, if Kellan could get some of the other fighters on his side, we could make the organization implode from the inside out before we even brought the cops raining down on them.
Thom said, “Send me that address, kitten, and I’ll see to it that it gets done. Who knows? Maybe he’ll have his shirt off when I get there. That’d be worth the gas money, for sure.”
“I’ll e-mail it to you,” I replied. “And thanks again, Thom. Really, this is above and beyond.”
Thom smiled. “What are friends for?” he said, turning and heading back to his desk before Melanie could yell at him for dawdling. “I won’t get off until late tonight, but I promise, Parker, I’ll take care of it. You just focus on the senator. You’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
That was true. As much as Kellan was dominating my thoughts, I still had important work to do. And if I was going to win him back, I was going to have to start keeping my promises and following through. I had to stop taking “no” for an answer.
I called the senator again from my desk. As usual, I was routed to his voicemail, but that wasn’t a problem. I would call every hour on the hour until either his mailbox was full, or he listened to me. And then I’d do it again the next day, and the next, for however long I needed to until I got some results.
I was going to salvage this thing between Kellan and me. I had to. Because going my whole life without ever feeling his touch again, without ever looking deep into his gorgeous hazel eyes, was just too depressing a thought to bear.
Kellan was in my blood now, in my heart and in my mind, and I wouldn’t let him slip away again.
Chapter 15
Kellan
Punching that bag until all my feelings about Parker went away didn’t exactly work out the way I’d hoped it would. Even after an hour in the training room, I was still feeling like shit. No amount of berating myself about it would make me stop thinking about her and what we’d almost had, and so I’d taken a different approach: I was going to drink her away.
Yeah, it was about as stupid an idea as it sounds, especially given my history.
I hit The Sly Fox, the goddamn place where we’d met, around seven o’clock that evening. There was a game on, one I wasn’t particularly interested in, but at least it drew a crowd. Normally I didn’t like being surrounded by so many people, especially in close quarters, but right now I didn’t want to be alone. And at least having warm bodies all around me solved that problem.
Or it would have, if the alcohol had actually made Parker’s face disappear from my mind. Every time I thought of her, it was like everything else in the whole world disappeared. There was just me and her, except she was gone. I’d pushed her away. And now I was alone all over again.
No, fuck her. She lied to me. She was the one who’d pushed me away.
But I’d never even let her explain. Not really. Hadn’t I owed her that? Couldn’t I have shut the fuck up for just one second and listened? Shit, I was starting to remind myself of my stepdad—jumping to conclusions and insisting they were real, despite any and all evidence to the contrary. It was easy not to change your mind when you just flat-out refused to see it any other way. Bonus points if you wouldn’t let the other party get a word in edgewise.
That was what had torn our family apart for years. And now, I was letting it tear me and Parker apart, too. Fuck. Was I really this big of an idiot? Hadn’t I learned anything from what Iris and Slade went through? Apparently fucking not.
Maybe I should call her. Send a text. Something. Just not while I was drinking. Alcohol and cell phones were a bad combination, and I wasn’t about to make a bad situation worse by saying something stupid when I was halfway drunk.
I was just about to settle up my bill when the door opened and a few familiar voices lilted my way. I looked over my shoulder at Jason “Mad Dog” Kane, Brian “Bloodbath” Mills, and Tyrell “Shaka” Washington, a damn odd bunch if I’d ever saw one. Not that they weren’t good fighters, but I’d never seen them hang out before. They’d never given me any kind of trouble, and we’d talked a few times, but we’d never kept
company, either. Not really. Whatever the special occasion was, though, they seemed pretty jazzed about it.
“Hey, it’s Killer Kellan!” Bloodbath said, immediately taking a seat on the stool next to mine. “Holy shit, man. We got a regular family reunion up in here!”
“What’s up, Killer?” Shaka said, clapping me on the back as he sat on the opposite side of me. “Fancy seein’ you here.”
“Yeah, I’m not really a regular,” I mumbled as Mad Dog sat down on the other side of Bloodbath. “Usually do all my drinking at home.”
“AA might call that a problem,” Shaka said as he ordered a round. “But I bet it’s cheaper that way.”
“Exactly,” I told him, surprised that he’d thought to get me a drink, too. I finished the last of my old beer and started in on the new one. “Well, shit. What are we celebrating?”
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