Survive (Fight It Out Book 1)

by T M Kelly

  Charlie leaned over and wrapped her arms about my neck. “What made her so crazy? Or should I say, who?”

  “Her family.”

  She pulled away. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish,” I said, leaning back. “Apparently good ol’ gramps worked for a mob boss.”

  “Fuck me,” Charlie said, standing up. “Okay, you managed to top me on the shittiest parents list.”

  “What am I missing?” Brooks asked.

  Charlie touched her palm to his cheek. “What part is confusing?”

  “Your parents don’t work for a mob, right?”

  “Oh goodness, no. Well, I don’t think so.”

  The thought shouldn’t have made me laugh, but for some reason it did. I was struggling to hold it together. “Sorry.” I giggled. “It’s just easier to laugh rather than cry.”

  Charlie shoved at my shoulder. “Hence, why I like being happy all the time.”

  “You’re not happy all the time.” Brooks said.

  I finally composed myself. “Listen, there is probably a lot you still need to learn about Charlie. Just know this, she is happy, and she is damn amazing.” Standing up, I turned to find Julian waiting on the top step. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he said, holding out his arms.

  “Mom?”

  “Heading to a strict facility where no one from the inside or outside can intervene.”

  “Good.”

  “Thanks for calling me, Lily,” Candace said.

  “We had a deal. I usually stay true to my word,” I said, pulling the covers up higher.

  Julian had encouraged Brooks and Charlie to stay the night with us. Charlie was still freaked out, and I wanted to make sure she was okay. I was happy to have her only four rooms down from me.

  “That was Candace?” Julian asked, closing the bedroom door.

  “Yeah, I gave her the update on what happened. I promised to be her source, so it was only fair to call.” I leaned up and crossed my legs in front of me. “How’s C?”

  “She’ll be fine. Brooks plans to sleep in the chair by her bed.”

  “What a gentleman.”

  There were still cops outside the house for the night and probably for the remainder of the week. It was unclear why Mom came to the house. The fact that she even showed her face at Julian’s home still confounded me. She had to know she would be arrested. Julian had this place covered in security cameras and motion sensors.

  “Did you talk to Otto?”

  He sat down on the bed and pushed his body up against the headboard. “I did. He shared some interesting stuff.”

  “Good interesting or bad interesting?”

  “You tell me.” He reached for my hand and pulled me close to his body. I settled in between his legs and rested my head on his chest. “There was a safety deposit box in San Francisco. Otto has been following her since you and I both arrived back here in Las Vegas. She went to the storage unit again, which was interesting. When she exited the building, she was holding photos. Then she went to the bank where the safety deposit box was located.”

  “Those are some serious details.”

  “Yeah, so when they grabbed her tonight. The photos were in her purse with a cryptic message on the back of each one.”

  “Shut up,” I said and sat up. “But why Vegas?”

  “Well, Otto looked at the video of her going through the box. There was a lot of money and some passports.” He rubbed his hands over his head. “And this.” He showed me several images of a little black book on his phone.

  I scrolled through and noticed several phone numbers listed. Julian’s name popped out at me. “You?”

  “Me.”

  “Why?”

  “That was your dad’s money in the box.” He brought up another set of images. “There were two passports that belonged to your dad.

  “That’s why she couldn’t leave the country.”

  “Nope. She must have thought her passport was still in the safety deposit box.”

  It was all clicking into place now. “When she realized she was stuck, she came here.”

  “Otto has a feeling she did it all on purpose so she could go back to jail.”

  “Wait.” I knew I sounded confused. “Why would anyone want to go back to jail?”

  “Well, think about it, she was running from her past and the cops.”

  “With no passport.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Who helped her out in the first place?”

  “That’s the disconnect they can’t find. There’s potentially a mole or someone willing to risk it all to help prisoners.” Julian brushed his hand down the side of my face. “The person may not even be tied to your mom’s past. She just managed to sweet talk the right person.”

  “Please tell me she will be locked away for good this time?”

  “Oh, she will be very lonely for a very long time.”

  I moved back in between his legs and wrapped my arms around his waist. “So this is over?”

  “Is anything ever over?”

  “Good point.”

  29

  One year later…

  “Oh my shit, look at this,” Charlie yelled, holding the MMA Journal in both hands. “Lily, you’re on the front page.”

  I glanced down at the headline. Bantamweight Fighter, Lily Waters- Will she take control of her future and get her first main event with AFC. “Holy shit!”

  We both started jumping in circles together. The moment we stopped, we tumbled to the mat. “So the headline is good,” Julian asked from above me. I held it up with both my hands. “Oh, that is good.”

  I leaped up. “Right?”

  “Have you read it yet?” he said, snatching it away.

  “Well, no, but it has to be good. Candace loves me.”

  He sat down on the bench not far from the practice ring and read a part of the article. “After a year of speculation, we can confirm that Lily does have a famous father. No, I don’t plan to tell any of you. This career is her own, and she deserves all the credit.”

  I gasped. “Did she really write that?” He held it out for me to see. “Wow, I need to call her immediately.” Running over to my towel, I grabbed my phone sitting on top of the blue terry cloth. “Candace, please.”

  The woman on the other line asked me to hold. A few minutes later, Candace was on the line. “Hello, this is Candace.”

  “You’re amazing. You know that, right?”

  “So you’re reading the paper, eh?”

  “It’s being passed around the gym as we speak.”

  “I’m glad you all approve,” she said, laughing. She paused and then continued. “Do you have a moment?”

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  She cleared her throat. “We plan to write another story about your mom.”

  That news seemed odd. “Did something happen?”

  “Well, there is something. Since it was released that your mom is tied to organized crime. Some new photos surfaced of your grandfather.”

  “He’s not my grandfather,” I said in a rather evil tone. “Sorry, that’s not my family.”

  “It’s okay, Lily. I apologize for even saying that.”

  “No, it’s just annoying we’re talking about this a year after putting her back in jail.”

  “There were a few murders in Detroit, Michigan.”

  “And they link to my mom?” Now I was confused.

  “There is a possibility that the new mob boss that took over for Giano Nesta is living in and around Detroit.”

  “Wow, that’s crazy.”

  “Since your mom has ties with that mob ring, we planned to write an exposé.”

  “If we can still keep the deal of leaving me out, you do what you must.”

  “Your name will never be mentioned.”

  “Thank you, Candace,” I said, hanging up the phone. “That was interesting.”

  Julian reached for my hand. “From the look on your face, you’re being sarcasti
c.”

  I proceeded to share what she had just told me. “So yeah, my family lineage just keeps getting better and better.”

  “Well, let’s give you some fun news.”

  “Tell me,” I said, sitting down beside him.

  “Five o’clock Wednesday Chuck Anders wants to talk about a contract.”

  I squealed and jumped up. “I can’t believe this is really happening.”

  “Your dad would be so proud of you.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. It felt good to think about my dad in a positive light. After all that had transpired a little over a year ago, it was confirmed my dad played no part in the hit list we found. My mom set him up. She had made a few attempts to talk to me, but I denied all communication from her. The new lawyer we hired was checking in on her weekly. Shocking, doing something we paid him to do.

  The latest report from the lawyer showed Mom was going through depression and was not eating enough. I don’t know, maybe that should have touched me, but it never even made a dent on my heart. My focus was the family I knew cared about me—my dad, Charlie, and Julian. They were all I needed in my life. I struggled most days not having Dad here to talk to him or tell him how my training was going.

  Julian was slowly taking over where Dad left off.

  “What should I wear?” I threw another top down on the growing pile in my closet.

  Charlie held her hands above her head to avoid getting hit by falling clothes. “There are four more options still on the rack. Hopefully one of those will work.”

  I plopped down beside her. “Should we go shopping?”

  “Do pigs squeal?”

  “I think the saying really is, ‘do pigs fly?’”

  “Yeah, but they don’t and I want to go shopping.”

  My sweet Charlie Bear. She should be a blonde. I patted her leg. “You’re overthinking, sweets.”

  She jumped up. “Well let’s stop thinking and spend some moolah.”

  I hopped up and looped my arm in hers. “Lead the way, gorgeous.”

  We decided to stay on the strip and head over to Fashion Show, which was basically a shopping mall on crack. The place was enormous and had everything under the sun. There had to be an outfit there that would speak to me.

  The moment we stepped through the entrance, my eyes roamed the place. It was packed for an afternoon during the week, but that was Vegas for you.

  Charlie grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the directory. “We need to find you something that screams style, winner…no, champion.”

  “My outfit will say all that?” I said, trying to keep up. Seemed like a challenge and one I knew she would win. My friend had a secret talent for fashion. There was music blaring the farther we made our way into the building. “Don’t they have runway shows sometimes?”

  “Oh, my God, let’s go see.”

  When we rounded a corner, there were people seated beside a very long runway. Upbeat music was playing while women strutted their stuff one at a time. It looked like they were showing off accessories because they would move their purse or bag in different directions as they walked.

  I glanced over and noticed Charlie’s eyes locked on the show. “Hey, sit and watch it. I’ll be right back.” I turned and caught sight of a jade green A-line skirt on a mannequin in a window. The same color as Julian’s eyes.

  Cheesy, I know.

  As I approached the store, a young woman stepped in front of me. “Are you the Lily Waters?”

  Her words took me by surprise. “Um, yes.” She held out her phone and on the screen was a picture of me. I scowled and felt completely confused. Then my brain registered, the MMA Journal article.

  “Josie, it’s her,” the young woman yelled. “Will you sign my book?” After a few minutes of riffling through her bag, she held out a notebook and pen. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone here today.”

  “Oh, wow, well I’m sorry I sound surprised. This has never happened before.”

  She flashed this beautiful smile. “Are you kidding? I loved watching you fight with Spartacus. When is AFC going to finally add you to their lineup?”

  “Hopefully soon.” I held in a laugh. She didn’t need to know that’s why I was at the mall shopping. “What’s your name?”

  “Renee,” she said, hopping back and forth between each foot.

  The pen touched the paper right as she said her name. “Oh. Renee. Tell me how you spell it exactly?” I was working hard to keep my emotions in line. Hell, I knew I would meet a million Renee’s in my lifetime. I better get used to that fact and soon.

  I wrote one sentence and signed my name. “Thank you, Renee, for your support.”

  She squealed and held the book up to her chest. “Tell AFC to get on board. You’re a fucking amazing fighter.”

  Her words caught me off guard and caused a lump to form in my throat.

  “That was so fun,” Charlie said from behind me. “Why didn’t you stay?” I turned around and she stopped talking. “What happened? What did I miss?”

  I burst out laughing. “Someone just gushed over me and asked for my autograph.”

  “Oh great, is the building big enough for your gigantic head now?”

  “Shut up,” I said, grabbing her arm before pointing to the window with the skirt. “Help me find something to go with that.”

  “Oh, you are so going to get a contract. That’s stunning.”

  30

  It was like déjà vu as we stepped foot into the AFC business office. This time I was prepared for the worst. No one was going to blindside me.

  Julian grabbed my hand and led me to the front receptionist desk. “We’re here to see, Chuck Anders.”

  The woman grabbed the phone and punched a button. “Your three o’clock is here to see you.” She hung up the phone. “He said he’ll be right down.”

  My eyes were locked on the big poster-size image of my dad. The gigantic photo was both overwhelming and emotional. “Hey,” I squeezed Julian’s hand. “I have a wacky idea.”

  “Tell me,” he said, leaning against the receptionist counter.

  “Creating a memorial fund in my dad’s name. It could be for young fighters. Maybe even fighters that are only using the streets to fight because that’s all they know.” I realized I had rambled and maybe my idea was crazy. Dad started as a street fighter, and I knew this could be really special if we approached it right.

  “Lily, that’s a great idea.”

  “You think?”

  “I love it, too.” Chuck stepped up beside us. “Sorry, I overheard some of the conversation.”

  “Spying on us,” I teased and then threw my hand over my mouth. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  He placed his hand on my shoulder. “This is why I look forward to working with you, Lily.” He pointed toward the stairs. “Let’s go up to my office and talk more. Looks like we have a lot to discuss.”

  Did he just say he looks forward to working with me? That was all my mind could focus on at the moment.

  As we stepped into his office, he closed the door. “Would you both like a water?”

  “Sure,” I said, sitting down in the chair by his desk.

  “Come on over here,” Chuck said, pointing at the couch. “Let’s keep this more personal, less business.”

  “Um, okay.” I was completely confused. Julian placed his hand on the small of my back and let me sit closer to Chuck. I slid down to the end of the couch and adjusted my skirt.

  “Lily, if you start a memorial fund for your father, I want AFC to be a part of it.”

  I cleared my throat. “It’s hard to find the right way to do it.”

  He scowled. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, on one hand I want to keep my father separate from my career. On the other hand—”

  “You want to honor your father?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  He leaned back in the leather chair. “Let me propose this to you. Fight with AFC. Win the Bantamweight champion
ship. Let it leak that you are The Punisher’s daughter.”

  I sat there for a moment, letting everything he said sink in. “You’re assuming I win the championship fight.”

  “I usually have a good eye for who will be the next champ,” he said, glancing past me. “Julian remembers this conversation I bet. What was it, ten years ago?”

  “This year it will be ten years,” Julian said, squeezing my hand. “He does have a knack for finding winning fighters.”

  Now I was curious. “I can’t just be put on a championship fight ticket right out of the gate, though?”

  “Why?” he countered.

  “Well, there are fighters who have been waiting for months to get on the ticket, right?”

  “If they are waiting, they are not delivering in some way.”

  His words caught me. So he saw more in me then some of the fighters already with AFC. “I just met my contract obligations with Spartacus last month, so I’m wide open. They tried to sign me on for five more fights.”

  “I’m glad you said no,” Chuck said, taking a drink from his water bottle.

  “Well, to be fair, I didn’t say anything yet.”

  He stood up and walked over to his desk. “Let’s see if I can sway you.” Grabbing a file, he walked back over and sat down. “In here I have written up a contract I think is fair and would lock you in with AFC for five years.”

  Whoa, I had never agreed to anything that went over one year. Now I would have to think about if I wanted to stay in Las Vegas and fight with the AFC for five years. The offer had to be worth it.

  “How does two million per year for the next five years sound? We have you fight two times a year. Then the rest of the year you are promoting and doing speaking engagements for AFC. If you win the title, the number changes.”

  My body fell back against the couch. Did he just say two million per year? I was unable to move. Somehow a vision of Dad popped into my mind. I silently asked him what to do, and he let out his classic laugh. Then I could hear Dad say beside my ear, Don’t stop fighting, Lily Bug.