Big Bad Boys: A Romance Collection

by Wylder, Penny

  He takes a step toward me, forcing me to take a step back. He isn't even that close, but the look in his eyes is making my hair stand on end. I'm just watching him, the way his eyes turn dark and his eyebrows crawl across his forehead like caterpillars.

  I don't want him anywhere near me or the baby growing in my belly.

  Clenching his teeth, his nostrils flare. “Your entire life I've been there for you, even when your own father abandoned you like trash. I've given you what you need to be successful. I've held your hand and made your name shine like gold, and this is how you treat me?” His voice teeters on the edge of insanity.

  “Dan—”

  I can't even finish saying his name. He throws his arm at the door, eyes turning to slits as he yells, “Get out! Go! Get the hell out of here!”

  I do. I leave. Quickly opening the door and closing it behind me before he chases me into the hall and demands I cut off a limb for him as punishment.

  There's no way I'm getting rid of this baby. He can order me to do a lot of things, but that isn't one of them.

  With my head down, I speed walk through the office, not looking up at anyone. Glancing at Claudia's office, the light is off and the room is vacant.

  Claudia is still avoiding me, she won't answer my calls, my texts. She goes the opposite way in the hall and disappears before I get there. I can't get her to give me even one second of her time to explain myself.

  It sucks. Because I could really use her right now.

  * * *

  The next two days I spend gazing at baby clothes and toys in stores. Phade's been busy training for the final, so we haven't seen each other as much as I would like.

  Checking my phone, I open the tab for Claudia, wishing to see a response. Nothing.

  'Browsing the mall and grabbing lunch at Panera. You in?' I send her a quick text. Maybe she'll have a change of heart, I don't know, but I'm not giving up on fixing our friendship.

  I'll keep trying, until she either blocks me or gives in and hears me out. I'm persistent, and she knows it.

  Dropping my phone back into my bag, I flip through a rack of tiny outfits. I can't help but smile at the dog designs, the pink ruffles, the happy dinosaurs, and all the bumble bees. Only in baby clothes will bees ever be cute.

  Tiny shoes line a few shelves. Sneakers, miniature slippers, shiny red dress shoes with itty-bitty heels. They're so small I can sit them in my palm like they belong to a doll.

  My stomach growls. It's loud, echoing like someone threw a rock into a cave. I glance over my shoulder, curious if anyone else heard it. No one seems to notice the hunger pains gurgling inside.

  I'm not buying anything yet for the baby because I want to wait until I know if it's a girl or a boy. Phade isn't sure if he wants to know, he's leaning toward being surprised. I'm going to need to know. I won't be able to wait. I'm antsy to name our child, to call him or her something other than “the baby.”

  Brushing my fingertips against the fabric as I walk by, I head for the exit. My head is down, checking my email on my phone. Most of it is spam. The rest I'll respond to later or tomorrow. But nothing is an emergency.

  Thumbing the screen, I push through the doors, and I'm suddenly swarmed by a hoard of people. Flashes are going off, there are microphones being stuffed in my face, and questions getting thrown at me from every direction.

  “Is it true? Are you pregnant?”

  “Word on the street is it might not be Phade's, can you prove it's his baby?”

  “What?” I ask, to everyone and no one at the same time. Twisting my head side to side, I can't focus on one person. They're all moving, corralling me like I'm a wild horse. “What's going on?”

  “Do you have a name yet?”

  “Can you tell us if the rumors are true? Is this really going to be Phade's fourth child with a different woman?”

  My head is spinning trying to keep up with the questions, trying to hear them all, and understand how they found out about the pregnancy to begin with.

  Do I answer honestly? Do I give them the truth?

  How do they know?

  I didn't tell them, and I know Phade didn't say anything.

  I was only browsing the clothes, not buying anything. It didn't even seem like anyone in the store recognized me, so who the hell slipped this information to the paparazzi?

  From my count there are three people that know; Phade, myself, and. . . Daniel.

  No. Daniel wouldn't do this. He wants the baby gone. He wants it kept quiet.

  Claudia? Does she know?

  “Sylvia, do you know—”

  “I'm sorry, I can't do this,” I say, cutting off the reporter. Taking a wide step, I try to force open the circle of bodies that have me trapped.

  No one moves.

  “Excuse me, let me through.” I'm not fucking around. My voice is stern as I lift my arm and attempt to push the human curtain aside.

  The wall tightens, holding me captive. I can feel my chest start to grow heavy. It's getting harder to breathe, the air is thinning, and I'm starting to hyperventilate. Placing a hand on my chest, I try to push through again.

  “I need to get by, please move.”

  But no one is listening to me. They're all still jabbering off questions about the baby and Phade, his past sexual experiences and other unknown children running around the world.

  I can't breathe. My body is hot, sweat is dripping down my temples and I'm taking shorter, shallow breaths. My eyes start to fill with water, the tears fall effortlessly because I have no power to stop them.

  “Sylvia, do you know. . .”

  “Sylvia, did he ever. . .”

  “Sylvia, what are you. . .”

  The questions keep coming and my head starts to spin. The world around me is moving, the ground beneath my feet feels like it's about to open and swallow me whole. I'm sick to my stomach, and if one of these people doesn’t move, they might even become a target of the vomit rising in the back of my throat.

  “Get out of my way,” I say, my voice nonexistent to the onslaught of louder reporters.

  Without warning, I feel a firm hand on my arm. Torn from the hoard, I tumble sideways and fall into Claudia.

  “You all right?” she asks, her eyes scanning my face.

  Wiping my cheeks, I take in a deep breath and nod. “Yeah, I'm okay.”

  Standing up straight, she waves a hand and yells, “Go! Get the hell out of here! She's not answering any of your questions!” Claudia grips me by the outside of my arms, pulling me in protectively, and walking me quickly away from the reporters.

  They're all still yammering questions, trying to stay with us as Claudia opens the door to her car and stuffs me inside.

  Turning to the reporters she growls, “Don't you have anything better to do than harass people? Get a life, leaches!”

  Claudia drops into the front seat and slams her door shut. She looks over at me and her eyes turn from hard to remorseful. “I'm so sorry, Syl, for avoiding you like I have been.”

  “I get it. You like Phade, and you made that clear, and now all this. . .” Pausing, I roll my hand. “I'm the one that should be apologizing.”

  “You think it has to do with me liking Phade?” Shaking my head yes, she goes on. “Well, you're wrong. I mean yes, I thought he was cute, and if he made the attempt to jump my bones, I would have let him. But that wasn't what made me mad. I was upset because you didn't tell me yourself, and I had to learn all this crap through those rat bastards.” Thumbing the group of reporters now dispersing around us, she tilts her head. “You could have just told me.”

  “I wanted to, I did. But the way you looked at him made me regret everything I was feeling and doing. I felt like a bad friend.”

  “No, a bad friend is someone who doesn't want happiness for their friend at all.” She gives me a tender look, her mouth pulling up at the corner. “Is what they're saying true? Are you actually pregnant?”

  “You really didn't know? Daniel didn't tell you?”


  The thought crossed my mind that maybe Claudia had let the cat out of the bag. It was possible that Daniel dropped her a trail of breadcrumbs and she picked up the pieces. But now I know for sure that isn't the case.

  Her eyes shoot to mine and a grin starts to form on her face. “You're really having a baby?” I nod. “You're having a freaking baby!” she calls out, gripping the steering wheel and shaking it. “Oh my God, Syl!!”

  “I'm really glad someone else is finally happy for me. Daniel wasn't too receptive.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “I haven't told her yet.”

  “Well, you know how Daniel is. Is Phade excited?”

  “Yeah, he's super happy.”

  “So, what now? Where do you guys go from here?”

  “Honestly, I have no clue. He has the upcoming fight, and I guess after that we'll know where we stand with Daniel.”

  “Do you love him?” she asks.

  “I do.” I don't even have to think about it. I love Phade.

  “Has he said he loves you?”

  Nodding yes, tears are rising again, bubbling up from below. But I sniff hard, doing my best to keep it together. “He says he does.”

  “Then nothing else matters, you already know where you'll go.”

  Cocking a brow, I peer at her from the corner of my eyes. “And where's that?”

  “It's wherever Phade is. You guys are going to be a family, and families stick together. If you love him, if you really feel like this guy is the one, I'll back you one hundred percent.”

  Tears spill freely, and I suddenly feel lighter than I have in a long time. “Thank you.”

  Smiling, she shrugs casually. “That's what friends are for, Syl.”

  18

  Phade

  “This is it.” Stone stands in front of me, helping me wrap my hands in white tape. Taking the strip, he starts on the outside of my right hand, pulling it tight. “How you feeling?”

  “I'm ready, I've been ready. I just want to get this fight over.”

  Stone nods, keeping his eyes on my hands. “How's Sylvia?”

  “Amazing.” Grinning, I wriggle my brows.

  “I'm not talking about that, asshole. I mean, how's she feeling?”

  Chuckling, I open and close the hand he just finished as he starts to wrap the left one. “I'm fucking with you. She's good. We went to her first appointment and got to hear the baby's heartbeat.”

  “Was it cool? Or weird?”

  “Weird?” I ask, flicking my eyes up to his. “Why would it be weird?”

  “There's a living thing inside her stomach, growing, feeding off her like a parasite.” Shuddering, he sticks his tongue out. “I don't know, I guess the idea of hearing a second heartbeat creeps me out.”

  “Well it's not weird or creepy. It's crazy, it's surreal, but it's awesome.”

  “I'm happy for you both, seriously, I really am. Never in my life could I imagine you having a baby.” Smiling, he steps back, and flips his hand in my direction. “Okay, how's that?” Tucking the roll of tape under his armpit, he asks, “Are they good? Tight enough?”

  Wiggling my fingers, I fist my hands a few times, stretching the tape across my knuckles. “They're good, it feels fine.”

  “Look who it is, it's Baby Brass Knuckles.” Gil walks into the room, shoulders perky, a big stupid grin on his face.

  “Gil,” I say, only taking a quick pause to look up at him. I don't have the time for him or his shit, so I drop my eyes back to my hands, rechecking the ends.

  “Awe, there are no hard feelings about what happened, are there? I know I'm cool. Then again, I wasn't the one who got arrested. Did you smile for your mugshot, Phade?”

  “You're right, you got off clean, because you ran like the fucking pussy you are.” Resting my elbows on my knees, I relax my muscles. “Not all of us have a tail to stick between our legs.”

  I'm not going to let him get to me. He isn't worth it. Gil can say whatever he wants and I'm just going to let it roll off my back.

  Chuckling, Gil runs his thumb across his bottom lip. “Pussy? Speaking of pussy, where's the one who's carrying your demon child? Or did she smarten up and leave your ass?”

  “Keep Sylvia and the baby out of this. They have nothing to do with this. It’s not her fault you’re a shitty fighter and a coward.”

  “Coward? No, no, no,” he says with a sly grin on his face. “Cowards knock up sluts in bathrooms. Maybe history will repeat itself and your baby will be a bastard just like its daddy.”

  “Fuck you, douchebag!” Jumping to my feet, I'm ready to run at him, but Stone grabs my arm, getting my attention. Glancing at him, he shakes his head no.

  He's right. I don't need to fight the guy, not like this, not anymore. That's what the ring is for.

  “What, you're taking orders from your goon now?”

  Gritting my teeth, my jaw crooks hard. “Say what you can, get it all out now, because you're not coming out of that ring with a voice.”

  “Is that a threat?” Gil angles his head into his shoulder, puffing up his chest. “I don't like threats, Phade.”

  Letting out an audible breath, I just stare at him. I don't care anymore what he says to me or anyone else for that matter.

  The only people that matter anymore are Sylvia and our child. My future is with them. I live for them. Everything else is meaningless.

  As the realization sets in, it feels like a mountain rolls off my back. I don't need to prove myself, I don't need to pretend like this is all my life has to offer; getting wasted and fighting because I'm not worthy of anything else.

  I found someone who makes me feel alive. That's better than all the adrenaline in the world.

  The tension in the room is so thick you can cut it with a knife. Gil isn't moving. I'm not moving. Stone is the wall between us. He's holding both his arms out, bracing to lock his arms if he has to stop both of us from attacking.

  Letting out a weighted breath, I rub my jaw, my eyes settling on Gil from over Stone's shoulder. Pointing in his direction, I nibble my bottom lip. “I hope you have this much balls in the ring. You talk a big game, but no one's here to save you this time.” Letting my arm fall loosely to my side, I grab my gloves and nod for Stone to follow me.

  Gil is silent, his eyes watching, his hands splayed at his hips, his legs open shoulder width apart. He doesn't say anything, but I know he's afraid. I can see it written all over his body.

  There's a subtle shake in his hands, it's light, almost invisible, except I see it. The vein in his forehead throbs and his chest is lifting rapidly. He's trying to slow his breathing, doing his best to stay even and normal.

  Nothing about this is normal. He knows what I'm capable of, and no matter how much he tries to get in my head, it isn't working. That scares him. Because if he can't get inside my head, he can't throw me off my game.

  That's always been his trick, his way to unbalance his opponent and give himself the upper hand.

  I'm not taking the bait.

  Before Sylvia got pregnant, I had a short fuse. It took nothing for me to fly off the handle and go wild. Someone looking at me the wrong way, someone having a tone I just didn't like, anyone willing to challenge me; that was all it took for the beast to come out, ready to tear their fucking head off.

  No more.

  I'm going to be a father. It's time for me to start setting the example, not being the lesson.

  My music begins to play in the speakers. Stone stops and sets his hand on my shoulder.

  “This is yours, it's all yours.” Squeezing, he slaps my back. “You deserve to be here more than anyone else. You've worked so hard, now go take what you deserve.”

  Adjusting my gloves, I slip my mouthguard in and jab his arm. The music gets louder and the crowd is chanting my name. Jogging out, I bounce my arms up above my head, and jab the air a few times.

  There's so much noise, it's hard to make out one person from the next. Hands are dipping in front o
f me, stealing a chance to touch my skin. They slip across my chest, moving, touching, groping.

  I keep my eyes on the ring. Gil should be coming in from the other side. I'm pissed, my vision a fuzzy red as I work my way down to the ring. Climbing the stairs, I feel Stone behind me as he wipes the towel across my head, drying the sweat already forming.

  The announcer introduces both of us, but all I see is his mouth moving. I can't hear him talking. The arena erupts in an explosion of sound. I can feel the energy from the crowd as it buzzes over my skin.

  This is what I live for. This moment right here.

  Looking around, the lights are bright, hovering high up on the ceiling, but bursting like miniature suns. I can feel the warmth from the bulbs as they heat my face.

  The announcer waves me forward, turning to wave Gil in next. Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I rock my head side to side, stretching the muscles in my neck.

  A referee grabs each of our wrists, making us bump knuckles. Taking a long step back, the announcer drops a single hand between us, and a bell dings in the background.

  My senses all kick in at once, and I'm focusing on Gil. His hands, his feet, the way he dips and moves. I never move in first. I always let the opposing fighter come to me.

  Gil has a smug grin on his face, as if he's already won this match before we even begin. His hands are up by his face, his head is tucked into his shoulders, making him look like he doesn't have a neck.

  I almost laugh because he reminds me of a turtle in its shell. His long, thin nose makes the perfect beak for the turtle head. His eyes are set wide, bulging from the sockets. With his hands up by his face, he could be a turtle scurrying across the sand.

  He moves forward two steps, then moves back. He takes a step to his left, and then back to center. I watch him as he does this dance, creating a box formation. Predictable. He's making this too easy.

  Gil smiles, his grin orange from his mouthguard. Popping forward, he jabs, thrusting out his leg to try and sweep me off my feet.