by Lane Hart
“Ah, girl problems,” he says, dancing around me to try and find the next shot.
“Not a problem anymore,” I say, finally landing a hit to his stomach. “We’re done.”
“Fuck, that hurt,” Jude grumbles when he takes a step back. “Why did you end it?”
I advance on him, and my left hand connects with the side of his head. “She was seeing someone else!”
“Are you sure?” Jude asks.
“I fucking waited on their table!” I exclaim.
“Damn, Alex. That sucks,” he replies while staying on the move, away from most of my punches and kicks that I keep throwing relentlessly until I’m worn out.
Slumping down on the canvas with my back against the metal cage, I try and catch my breath.
“We’ve all been there,” Jude says when he takes a seat next to me. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. I mean, I remember when I thought Sadie and Linc were together… Fuck, I wanted to kill someone, but it all worked out after I pulled my head out of my ass.”
“I thought Whitney didn’t care about the money, you know? I was wrong. Now I’m broke with no girl and no job.”
“Really?” he asks. “Because I thought your dad was, like, the richest guy in Maryland, if not the entire east coast.”
“Oh, he is,” I admit. “But he cut me off and kicked me out of the state for a year. That’s why I came here. Supposed to be teaching me a lesson or some shit.”
“Ah,” Jude mutters. “Well, if you need to borrow money…”
“No,” I say, cutting him off. “I don’t need any handouts.”
“Just a loan,” he says. “You would have to pay me back, or I would kick your ass worse than normal.”
With a huff of a laugh, all that I can manage at the moment with my chest aching from the hole Whitney just blew through it, I tell him, “Thanks, but I’ll figure something out.”
“No problem,” he responds. “And just a heads-up, there’s an article in the News & Observer today about you going on that reality show.”
“Already?” I ask in surprise.
“Yeah, they’ve nicknamed you the ‘billionaire brawler from Maryland’ and predict you’ll go far in the competition.”
“No shit?” I ask. If my dad finds out, he’ll probably freak the fuck out about my “security” and all while being down here alone. “At least that’s something to keep my mind off of everything.”
“When do you leave?” Jude asks.
“After Christmas, so about four weeks,” I tell him. “Oh fuck, and I still haven’t seen Luke to let him know.”
“Yeah, between his EMT program, his new woman, and kid, we haven’t seen him around here much lately.”
“I don’t see him at home often either. He’s been staying with Megan most nights ever since she got back from Arizona.”
“Hopefully everything will work out,” Jude says when he gets to his feet. “Do you need a ride home? I’m getting ready to head out.”
“Yeah, I would appreciate that,” I tell him since I’m exhausted from all the shit that’s happened today.
It’s time to go back to the apartment and lick my wounds while trying to forget the woman I thought I was falling in love with.
Being with Whitney felt so damn good, though, and right. I never expected her to do this shit to me. Maybe that’s why I’m so fucking pissed. I trusted her, and it all blew up in my face. She’s not who I thought she was; and no matter how hard it will be, I need to stop thinking about her.
…
Whitney
“I’m so, so sorry, Daddy,” I tell my father as I sit on the edge of the chair in his office with tears streaming down my face. “I didn’t mean to ruin everything.”
“It’s fine, Whit. You never should’ve been put in that position…” my dad starts before my mother chimes in.
“No, it’s not fine! Don’t coddle her!” she exclaims. “We were so close to saving the company, and she had to go and destroy all of our hard work on some stupid boy.”
“I love Alex, and now he’ll never forgive me!” I shout at her indignantly. “Don’t you see that I didn’t just lose money for the company? I lost everything!”
“You love him?” my father asks. “I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. You told me you liked Kenneth.”
“I had just met Alex at the time, and I thought I could see them both until the deal went through,” I admit.
“Give him some time to cool off. Maybe this Alex guy will come around,” my dad offers. He’s not nearly as concerned as I expected him to be about his business going under because I destroyed the relationship with his main investor. I was worried he would flip out and have another heart attack.
“How did this happen, anyway? Why weren’t you more careful?” my mother prods.
“I didn’t know Alex worked at the restaurant Kenneth took me to tonight. I thought he was just a fighter.”
“A fighter?” my dad repeats. “Like Senn?”
“Yeah, he trains at the Havoc in Maryland but just came down here a few months ago,” I tell him.
“Hold on a second. What’s this Alex’s last name?” my mother asks, making me suspicious about her sudden interest in him.
“Stiles. Why?”
“Alex Stiles? That name sounds familiar. Why does it sound familiar?” she asks while typing on her phone. “Oh, yes. There was a story about him going on some show.”
“Yeah, it’s a fighter competition in California he got picked for,” I say. “He’s leaving in a few weeks, and I don’t know if that’s enough time to convince him to give me another chance.”
“If he cares about you as much as you care about him, he will,” my father says encouragingly.
“What are you going to do? Are you gonna have to file bankruptcy? Will all those employees lose their jobs right before Christmas?” I ask in concern since I’m too depressed to keep talking about my love life, or lack thereof.
“There’s still time for us to find investors before the end of the year,” Dad says with a small smile. “We may have to make some layoffs; but if it all works out, we can bring everyone back on later.”
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him again, not just feeling guilty for letting down my dad but all those families who depend on a salary from Merchant Industries.
“Not another word about it,” he says, getting to his feet and coming over to give me a hug. “Go to bed and get some sleep. Let me handle the business, and you worry about the fighter.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” I mumble against his shoulder before slinking away to my room to cry myself to sleep.
I may not ever leave my bed again unless it’s to stalk Alex and beg him to forgive me. He was so hurt and angry that I know it won’t be easy, but there has to be something I can do.
Maybe my dad is right, and it will just take time. It sucks, but I won’t give up, no matter how long it takes for him to come back to me.
He told me he loved me, so that has to count for something, right?
I don’t take Alex for the type of man to go around just saying that sort of thing.
Dammit, I would give anything to be in his bed with him right now, holding him, kissing him, making love to him.
It can’t be over. I need him. I just have to hope he feels the same way.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Whitney
“I’ve messed everything up,” I whine to my sister on the phone the next day while still wallowing in bed. Alex hasn’t answered any of my calls, so I didn’t think showing up at his apartment would be a good idea just yet.
“What did you do?” Abby asks.
“I –” I start to explain, but then remember that our mom doesn’t want her to know about our dad and his health or business problems. “I was dating Alex and another guy at the same time. Last night, Alex found out, and now I think we’re over.”
“Then he must not have been the one if you were seeing someone else,” my sister remarks.
“He was, and I screwed up!” I tell her.
“So what’s with the second guy?” she asks. “Did Mom set you up again?”
“Maybe,” I answer truthfully rather than lie.
“Ugh. Tell Vivian to stay the hell out of your life!” Abby shouts in my ear. “Why can’t you just explain to Alex that she manipulated you into dating the other douche?”
“I tried, and he doesn’t believe me,” I reply.
Off in the distance I hear the front door open and close, then footsteps on the stairs, making me assume our lovely mother is back from the salon. But then I realize it’s more than one set of feet clomping up them. Did Dad come home early with her? Maybe he’s finally listening to us and cutting back his hours at work.
“Do you want me to have Senn try and talk to Alex?” Abby offers, but I’m not able to respond, not when two massive men barge into my bedroom. “Whitney?” she asks in my ear.
“Who…who –” I start to say, my words and body paralyzed as they come closer. The first one with a smooth shaved head jerks the cell phone from my hand and ends the call before tossing the device carelessly over his shoulder while the other, a roughneck dude with long, dirty looking black hair grabs both of my feet.
“What the fuck?” I finally am able to yell at them as I start trying to kick my feet out of his grasp while digging my nails into the meat of his sweatshirt-covered arm.
“Ow, shit,” he grumbles when my bare foot nails him in the throat. “Can’t we just knock her out?”
“No. We can’t hurt her,” Baldy says from above me before he pulls a sheet of paper from his back pocket and tosses it on the bed. His sausage fingers then grab me by both of my shoulders and lift.
I try to squirm out of his grip, but I can’t get free. Regardless of what he said about not hurting me, his fingers are digging into my flesh so hard he’s bound to leave bruises.
The next thing I know, the two men are carting me out into the hallway. When I realize they’re trying to take me somewhere, my panic rises to gargantuan levels, so I try to fight that much harder and even try to bite the hands holding me. I can’t let them take me. I’ve seen those cop shows. Once you’ve been kidnapped, you only have like a two-percent chance of survival.
“Fuck it,” the cue ball asshole says before he slams my head into the wall at the foyer.
…
My head is throbbing like a bitch when I come to, reminding me of the concussion I received from Alex’s toilet.
When I’m unable to lift my hands to rub the pulsing knot on my temple because they’re restrained behind my back, my eyes fly open, and I start to scream.
I’m in the interior of a strange vehicle, maybe a utility van based on all the tools and shit lying around next to me. And not only are my wrists tied behind my back; but after wiggling around to look down past the hem of my nightgown, I realize my ankles are tied too.
“Shut her up!” says a deep voice at the front of the vehicle.
A flash of red fabric appears in front of my face, and then it’s being crammed into my mouth and tied at the back of my head. Ugh, it smells like dirty hair and sweat, making me gag from the stench and taste crowding my mouth and muffling my screams.
Rough hands grab me around the waist and lift me in the air before sitting me down again on someone’s lap. One that is most definitely male based on the hard bulge protruding into my ass. I try to squirm and twist away, but it’s not easy with no hands or feet to help, and the arm banded around my waist makes it virtually impossible. Remembering my head is still free, I slam it backward and make contact with the front of his face.
“Fuck!” he yells, but doesn’t let go.
Good, I hope I broke his nose.
“Calm down, girly!” the man at the front calls back. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”
If I could talk, I would say bullshit. Why else would two men come into my home and take me unless they were going to…going to do more than poke me with an erection? They’re gonna rape me and then kill me!
My throat begins to burn as tears form in my eyes and start to fall one by one as I come to terms with my fate.
“If you behave, you’ll be back home in no time,” the front guy says. “Just as soon as we get the money.”
Money?
They took me for money?
Even with the gag, I try to convey to them that my parents don’t have any money by shaking my head and muttering bankrupt over and over again.
“How long do you think it takes to get ten mil transferred?” the asshole holding me asks.
“A few days, maybe a week,” the other guy calls back.
Ten million dollars?
Oh fuck.
If my father couldn’t find an investor with five, there’s no way they can come up with ten! I’m so screwed. These guys will eventually get tired of waiting, and then they’ll do whatever they want with me before they kill me!
And my first thought when I realize I’m going to die a slow, horrible death?
I wish I could’ve convinced Alex to forgive me.
I’m pretty sure that remembering how much he hates me will haunt me for the rest of my afterlife.
…
Alex
My thighs are burning like fuck from being abused by the punishing weight I’ve put on the leg lift at Havoc when it suddenly erupts into chaos.
Abby, Whitney’s sister, bursts into the building a blubbering mess of tears and streaked makeup. The only words I can make out are Senn’s name. Less than a second later, the big man is racing toward her from who the hell knows where and pulling her into his arms.
As if drawn in by the magnetic pull of a woman’s tears, all the other fighters, including myself, abandon their training post and make their way over.
Linc and Jude get there first; and as I approach, I hear them all talking frantically about money and disappeared and then the one word that spikes my adrenaline. Whitney.
“What about Whitney?” I interrupt their conversation to ask.
Senn reads a piece of paper, passes it to Linc, who does the same and then hands it to me.
It’s a neatly typed, brief and to-the-point, two-sentence letter.
One that says Whitney has been kidnapped, and if we ever want to see her again, ten million dollars needs to be deposited into a foreign bank account. And if they don’t get the money soon, they threaten to find more creative ways to use her to get paid.
I’m rereading it for the third time when all the contents of my stomach come violently and explosively pouring out of my mouth. Everyone gathered around jumps back a few steps to avoid the mess while I bend over at the waist, holding the letter in the air and puking until there’s nothing but dry heaves left in me.
“Fuck, Alex. Are you okay?” someone asks while a pile of towels rain down to try and cover up the cookies I just tossed.
“No! What the fuck happened?” I yell at the group of concerned faces before focusing on Abby’s since she must have the most information.
“I was talking…I was talking to Whitney on the phone…then suddenly the call ended. She wouldn’t answer when I called back…and I…I just had a feeling something was wrong,” Abby tells us between sobs while Senn keeps his arm around her, trying to soothe her. “When I got to the house…she was gone and there was that letter…in her bed.”
Someone took Whitney from her house, from her bed, in the middle of the fucking day?
“Did you call 911? Have you gone to the police?” Linc asks her frantically.
“Yes! The police are at the house…but there’s no sign of forced entry…nothing to tell them who took her!” Turning to Senn, Abby grips his shoulders and asks, “How much money do we have?”
“Fuck, I dunno. Eight hundred grand maybe?” he answers.
“Okay. Okay. We just need…about nine million more,” she replies with a determined nod. “My parents are broke! Can you believe that shit? All they have is maybe a hundred thousand.” Turning to Linc, Abby says, “Linc�
�I hate to ask you for this…”
“You can have every penny I own, Abby,” he tells her. “But it still won’t be enough.”
“I have a decent chunk saved,” Jude pipes up.
They’re scrambling around for money while Whitney is with who the hell knows who, having who the fuck knows what done to her.
“I can take care of it,” I tell them, clutching the ransom note like it’s a lifeline to Whitney in my hand, but they all keep talking over me, asking if it could be a scam and then they refuse to let her go after they get the money. I don’t care; it’s pay up and take that chance or leave her in danger. No fucking way.
“I’ve got it covered!” I say loud enough that they all shut up. “Just give me a phone.”
“Really?” Abby asks, her brown eyes wide and hopeful. “You can…you can get ten million, like, right now?”
“Yes!” I answer. “Someone give me a fucking phone!” I yell while holding my empty palm out since mine is in the locker room and it would waste too much time to get it.
Someone finally places a cell phone in my hand, and I quickly dial the number that I know by heart.
“Hello?” my father answers.
“Dad, it’s me,” I say. “I need your help.”
“Alex? Is everything okay?” he asks.
“No, it’s not. I need you to wire ten million to a bank account right now,” I tell him.
“Jesus, son. That’s a helluva a lot of money to blow,” he replies. “And your trust isn’t accessible for a few more months…”
“This is life or death, Dad, so I need you to please come up with the money today!” I explain in a rush, knowing that my trust is just chump change compared to how much he’s worth. “Please?” I ask when he stays silent. “Please, Dad!”
“I can pay it, but you know what this means, right?” he asks. “I expect you to be on a bus home ASAP and start working for me Monday morning to begin paying it back.”
“Fine,” I agree in relief, willing to do whatever it takes. “I’ll leave as soon as I know everything is okay here.”
“Are you sure about this, son? Ten million now means losing nine hundred million on your birthday,” he reminds me.
