Fighting for Us (Love is Worth Fighting For Book 1)

by Bella Emy

  Sorry, buddy. That’s so not happening. Not this time.

  “Can I please come in, babe? I don’t want to have this discussion in your hallway.”

  Why the hell is he calling me babe? I roll my eyes but nevertheless allow him to come into my apartment. I close the door behind him and stand a few feet away from it. I will keep my distance from him if it kills me. “Okay. You’re inside. Now what is this about? Please make it quick. I’m pretty tired.”

  “Can we sit down and talk on the couch?” he asks. What is with him? Not a single word from him in three years, and now all of a sudden and out of nowhere, he wants to talk? What about all those times right after he broke my heart when I begged him to talk to me and he wouldn’t give me a second glance? What about that? I bet he doesn’t remember any of it. Prick.

  I take a deep breath. This is going to take all my patience. I roll my eyes and lead him into the living room. I don’t even invite him to sit. Instead, I plop down on one end and look up at him. “Well?”

  He shakes his head, and after a few moments, he takes a seat next to me. “Carissa, babe. I’ve been thinking.”

  Oh, you have? For once, you’ve been using the head attached to your neck as opposed to the one in your pants? That’s a first.

  “Okay?” I ask, urging him on.

  He reaches out to grab my hand, but I flinch.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  He gives me one of his famous smug grins that I used to love. It’s the same smug grin he put on every single time right after I’d lie down on the bed and he’d crawl above me, hovering over me. Chills run down my spine at the memory.

  “Damn, I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean anything. I just want to feel close to you.”

  My patience is running out, and I seriously want him out of my apartment.

  I stand from the couch and cross my arms over my chest. His eyes roam the length of my body, and I can tell he is not taking me seriously at all. I need to stop this. “Steve, I need you to leave. Now.”

  He jumps up. “Hey, babe. I’m sorry. Please don’t ask me to leave. I know I can make you happy. Please let me stay.

  I furrow my brows. “Steve, what the hell are you doing? Let you stay? You need to leave here before I call the cops.”

  He looks around him, but his gaze lands on me once more. “I don’t want to leave, and I don’t want you to call the cops.”

  I tap my foot. “You don’t? Okay, so what do you want, Steve?

  “I want you,” he responds casually.

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Me? After all this time… me? You wanted to be with your ex. Do you remember? You left me, your fiancée, for your ex, and then you didn’t say a word to me for years. I think it’s clear, as it was pretty clear the day you made your choice. It wasn’t me.”

  “But it is you!” he says. He steps closer and grabs my hand in his.

  I don’t pull it away this time. I’m so dumbfounded by what he’s telling me. I shake my head. “No, Steve. It wasn’t me then, and it’s not me now. I’m sorry, but you really have to get going now.”

  Pulling me harder, he forces me onto him until my mouth is inches from his.

  The same mouth that once upon a time used to kiss me so sweetly.

  The same mouth that once upon a time used to make me shudder with anticipation right before we’d give ourselves over to one another, becoming one in the middle of the night.

  The same mouth that eventually spoke the words saying he no longer loved me and wanted to be with someone else, only months before we were set to be wed.

  Bitter memories cloud my vision, but as I’m coming to, I gasp. “Steve, let me go!”

  He chuckles wickedly. “You were mine then as you will always be mine and belong to me—when I want, and how I want. Don’t you ever forget that.” He whispers those last five words, and his breath is warm against my face. A sudden flashback to times he got drunk and grabbed me the way he just did flood my brain. It took me months after he left for me to realize that how he’d treated me was worse than I’d thought. This can’t be happening all over again. I need to get away from him.

  I desperately try to break away from his grasp, but I can’t. He’s too strong, and his grip on me is too tight.

  One of his hands lands on my ass and he squeezes tightly. “You always did have such a nice round booty… Mmm, the things I want to do to it right now. Why don’t we make our way to our bedroom, huh?”

  “Fuck you!” I shout, trying desperately to break away from his hold. This is my place now. He no longer lives here. He grabs me from the waist and pulls me out of the living room and into the hallway. I grip onto the doorjamb and hold on as tightly as I possibly can, but my hands are slipping and hurting from gripping so tightly. “No!” I scream. “Let me go!”

  “What’s going on here?” A familiar voice I adore so much comes to my rescue. My eyes dash toward the front door. Thank God for the spare key only she and my sister know sits tucked behind the portrait hanging right outside the door.

  Steve’s grip on me immediately loosens at the distraction, and I stumble forward and move as far away from him as I possibly can. I run to my best friend’s side. “Emy!” I wrap my arms around her, so thankful that she barged in and interrupted his ploy.

  She gives me a once-over and asks, “Are you okay, girl?”

  I nod. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” We let go of our embrace, and I stand next to her, hugging myself. I hate that he had his hands on me. I hate the memories that crashed back to my mind. It took me so long to move forward from all of it, his physical and emotional abuse and his cheating ways. And now, he’s just brought it all back. I shudder. I feel dirty and can’t wait to shower.

  Turning to face Steve, she places a hand on her hip. “What the hell are you doing here, Steve?”

  He puts on a smug grin, backing against the wall. “Emy. Figures you’d show up right when we were about to get to business. You always did know how to cock-block our relationship. It’s so nice to see you again too.”

  She smirks. “Quit the smart remarks, ass clown. And thank God I did get here when I did because it appears as though you’ve overstayed your welcome. It’s time for you to go. Or I’ll call the cops.”

  Steve throws me a look and then glares back at my friend. “Call the cops? For what? For coming over to see my girl? Please…”

  “I’m not your girl, Steve!” I roar. My blood is boiling, and now my fists are balled tightly at my sides. I refuse to let him treat me the way he used to. Not now, not ever again.

  “You need to leave. Now,” Emy responds.

  He doesn’t flinch, and Emy nods her head.

  “Like I said, either you go or I’m calling the cops.”

  He crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. “You wouldn’t.”

  Emy’s eyes widen. “Oh, I wouldn’t? Watch me.” She pulls out her phone and hits the number nine.

  It immediately makes Steve jump forward and stop her from dialing the rest of the digits. “Okay, fine, fine. I’m going.” He walks toward us and then, looking at me directly in the eyes, he says, “But this isn’t over, Carissa. We’re not through.”

  “Good-bye, Steve,” Emy exclaims, forcing him out.

  As he leaves my apartment, I quickly lock the door behind him and stand with my back against it. I’m instantly met with Emy’s disapproving glance. “What?”

  She raises an eyebrow like The Rock. “What? You’re joking, right? You don’t know what I’m going to say?”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I let him back in. I should be more careful,” I reply.

  She frowns and marches into the living room. I follow.

  Pulling out her phone, she rolls her eyes and furiously types something into it.

  “Who are you texting?” I ask.

  When she’s done moments later, she looks up at me. “Shannon.”

  “Shannon? Why the hell are you texting Shannon now?” I know why. She’s going to tell her e
xactly what happened. Fuck.

  Emy stands and crosses her arms across her chest. She lets out a deep exhale. “This could have ended so much worse than it did, Carissa. So much worse. I’m sorry, but I worry about you, and seeing him here after so long, knowing what he’s capable of, really scared the crap out of me. You’re my best friend, and the last thing I want is for some asshole like Steve to hurt you all over again.”

  I shrug. “I know. I just… I don’t know what I was thinking. He said there was something he needed to talk to me about, so I lowered my guard.”

  She nods. “You’re a good person, Carissa. And sometimes, that causes people to take advantage of you. Like Steve. Here he was with his hands on you all over again. If I would have gotten here one second later, God knows what could have happened or what I would have walked into. I love you, chica.”

  I smile. “I love you too.”

  “What made you stop by anyway?” I ask.

  Emy sits back down on the couch, and I take a seat across from her. “I was coming to drop off this.” She pulls out a flyer for the upcoming event this weekend. It’s a different one from last time. The guys are now standing in the middle of the ring.

  “Look. These are the brand new flyers going around.” Throwing the flyer onto my coffee table, she smiles from ear to ear.

  I lean closer to get a better look. “Okay… I’m not sure what you want me to see here besides the fact that it’s a new flyer.”

  Rolling her eyes, she picks it up off the table and stands. She walks over to me, grabs me by the arm, and makes me stand. “Look again.”

  I take another glance at the flyer and then I see it. “Oh my God.”

  She giggles. “That’s him. Guns’s name is Lorenzo Trevano. It’s written right here underneath his picture.”

  “Wait… it can’t be—”

  “Guns! It’s Guns!” she exclaims. “He’s the stud muffin from the bar the other night. What are the odds?”

  I swallow thickly as images of him from the night at the bar come back to the front of my mind…

  “No way…”

  “Oh, yes way… look at this.” She pulls out the first flyer from her pocket and places them side by side. The man from the bar the other night is Guns…

  I take a moment to process my thoughts. “So he’s going to be fighting this weekend at the matchup?” I obviously already know the answer because Daniela told me already, but I can’t believe it. What a small world.

  “Hang on,” she says, bringing up her cell phone again. “Okay, Shannon’s on her way to make sure you’re all right after the little stunt Steve just pulled.”

  I shrug. “She really doesn’t have to stop by.”

  She waves a dismissive hand in my direction. “But yes, he is in the main event, fighting The Big Shot this Saturday.”

  “Wow,” I say, taking a seat again.

  Emy sits next to me. “Yeah, and just think. We’ll be there like two rows away, watching him up close.”

  I snap my head in her direction. “I don’t think I—”

  “Oh, hell naw, girl. I got tickets, and we’re going. We’re so going. Don’t give Shannon and me another reason to beat you down. We’ve already got one.”

  “Great. I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lorenzo

  Anger flares deep in my veins. Every year on this day, it appears as though I never find peace. Instead, I’m angry and blaming the world for all that was robbed from me and my little girl. Why us? Why did we have to go through it? Why was Sylvia taken away from us?

  But this kind of anger will allow me to do all I’m meant to do tonight. My broken heart and mess of a life will be the drive I need to accomplish my dreams.

  In the middle of a crowded arena, I stand in a cage as the announcer is about ready to announce my name taking on Dennis “The Big Shot” Mavis. The commencement of the fight is about to be underway, and there is nothing better than it allowing rage to build inside me so I can take it out on my opponent. The day has finally come for me to take what officially belongs to me.

  It’s a day for revenge, and as I stand here in the center of the cage, I’m ready to let my inner beast out and let the havoc I feel inside take its place on Dennis “The Big Shot” Mavis’s face. He’s the only one standing in my way of being an undefeated champion and the one who currently holds the title. But not for long. It’s going to be mine, all mine, before the end of the night.

  When the bell rings, alerting us it’s go time, I stand across from Dennis, eyeing him down. He glares back at me, but I’m not intimidated by his two inches over me. I won’t let up, and I refuse to let him think this is going to be easy, because I can guarantee that’s one thing it’s not going to be.

  Almost immediately, he comes forward, lunging at me. I take shots into his sides as he does the same, but it doesn’t matter. I keep punching and sending shots his way. I want this more. So much more.

  He hasn’t been through the things I’ve been through. He hasn’t traveled the same journey as I have. He doesn’t have the same drive and desire for wanting this as badly as I do.

  It may take time and determination, but I’m not giving up until I come out on top.

  A blow meets my jaw, causing blood to gush out and onto the floor. It doesn’t stop me. It doesn’t even slow me down. All it does is make me angrier, allowing me to channel my energy into a shot of my own, and it connects with his face.

  After three rounds, each lasting no longer than five minutes of us going completely berserk and beast mode on one another, the match finally comes to an end. I’ve got a swollen black eye, but nothing can compare to the ecstatic and victorious way I’m feeling.

  The crowd is going wild, cheering and applauding as the announcer lifts my right hand into the air and announces me as the heavyweight champion. I’ve been training for this night for months, and it finally paid off. The belt around my waist is the confirmation that this moment is indeed mine to enjoy.

  As the applause and cheers grow louder and louder and the reality that I’ve won hits home, everything slowly goes silent. The cheering crowd is still going, but I can’t hear a thing. The lights dim, and the only person I see, sitting two rows away, is her.

  Luscious Lips.

  She’s here and she’s cheering for me, standing next to two of her friends. Her shimmering smile has my heart feeling as though it’s skipped a beat. God, she’s breathtaking. I can’t believe she’s here. And she’s smiling at me, cheering away with the rest of the crowd.

  Her big, brown eyes sparkle brightly. Her hair is pinned up halfway, and a red blouse snuggly hugging her breasts sits on top of jeans. I no longer feel the pain from the injured body parts where Dennis got me. The pounding headache, the pulsating cuts on my face, and my aching joints no longer bother me. Everything has gone still and silent. The only thing I feel is my heartbeat, which is gripping the hold of my attention on her.

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but at some point, our coaches and Ryker barge into the ring, shouting and celebrating my win. I’m ripped away as they lead me out of the arena, but my eyes never leave hers.

  Lying in bed, hours after a celebration at a nearby diner, I’m finally able to relax and get some rest. My baby girl is staying with my parents this weekend. They knew whether I’d win or lose that it would be a late night, so they kept her entertained at home while Max and Marianna cheered me on at the match.

  I wouldn’t trade tonight for anything. It was all amazing, and the fact that I saw her again and our eyes met really put the icing on the cake.

  I frown.

  What’s wrong with me? It’s the anniversary of Sylvia’s passing, and here I am lying in bed not able to get some random woman out of my head. I flip over to the other side. Ow. The pain. I adjust the ice pack and hope it rids my thoughts of Luscious Li—

  Okay, I need to stop that too. I can’t keep calling her that any longer. I wish I knew her name so I can refer to her as it instead. />
  Fuck it, I’m going to call her Lush. That’s better, right?

  Mmm… maybe. I don’t know. I still picture the way her lips wrapped around that candy cane the first night, and oh my God, I’m getting hard.

  Fuck! Stop it!

  This isn’t happening.

  Maybe I need to relieve myself. I mean, with the match and training, I have been pretty tied up and exhausted by the time I get into bed. Maybe if I just jerk off, I can end this craziness and forget about this woman once and for all.

  Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I hope I don’t regret this because I’m really sore right now, but I have to try to get these thoughts out of my head one way or another.

  I carefully turn to lie onto my back. After gently kicking the blankets off myself, I reach down slowly to my boxer briefs and lower them as well. Okay, the pain is not so bad. My cock springs free, aching for some relief. Damn.

  From inside the bottom drawer of the nightstand, I pull out a pair of socks and separate them. I reach down and palm my hard cock, and it increases in size. Fuck, it’s been too long.

  I stroke it only a couple of times, but it still feels fucking good. I need to come. I place one of my socks over it.

  Once it’s on, I work my length up and down, trying to think about the sensation so I can reach my pleasure zone. But instead of being able to focus on how good it is to feel it being jerked up and down, Lush’s face comes into view, and I picture her lips wrapped around my cock, like she was doing to that candy cane. Fuck, she’s so damn sexy. Her hooded eyes look up at me as she alternates between sucking on my dick and licking up and down the length of it.

  Fuck, I can’t control it. Thinking about her in that position with me in her mouth makes me completely lose it, and moments later, I’m exploding into my sock.

  Wow… That was intense.

  Guilt burdens me instantly after.

  This can never happen again.

  It should have never happened in the first place. But now that it’s over with I’ve gotten her out of my system, I should be fine. I just needed some relief. I am a man, after all.