by Cherrie Lynn
Anticipation swelled in the audience and erupted when Mike’s music blared through: an August on Fire song that made Zane beam with pride. Damien’s hand moved up to Emma’s shoulder and tightened ever so slightly; he must be so nervous for his brother. If it had been her own brother, she would have been hoping for him to get his ass beat, but then Damien cared for his. She immediately forgave him for earlier, giving his fingers a squeeze in return.
Michael was a big guy, lips sullen and hard, eyes like chips of ice in the shadow of his hood. He looked like a dude ready to fuck someone up and she would hate to know she was about to crawl into a cage with him intent on destroying her. Savannah was on her feet cheering him along with Rowan and Zane. Damien put his fingers to his lips and emitted an ear-piercing whistle. The roaming spotlights swept over them occasionally, the crowd roared and held up signs. Mike definitely owned them here. The enthusiasm hadn’t been nearly so loud for his opponent.
He bared his mouthpiece for the official, gave his cup a few taps with his fist, and was allowed into the cage. Savannah had both hands folded under her chin; Mike sought her out through the fence and winked at her, unsmiling. She blew him a kiss from her trembling hand.
“Kick his ass, Mike!” Zane yelled, his singer’s voice easily carrying through the other shouting. Announcements and introductions were made; the two opponents paced in their corners like caged animals, waiting. Mike wore black-and-red trunks, the other guy bright yellow. Emma hoped this was over fast. She also wondered if her dumbass brother had any money riding on this fight. She wasn’t sure who he would’ve put it on, but going off looks alone, she’d put her money on Mike any day.
“Do you bet on these fights?” she asked Damien, and he shook his head.
“Nah, not my thing.”
He probably felt he didn’t have the control over a situation like this as he did in a poker game. Understandable.
The referee explained the rules, sent them back to their corners, and the bell went off. The fighters wasted no time. They came out fast and hard, swinging in the middle of the cage. Savannah cringed and hid her eyes as if she felt every hit Mike took, but Rowan kept scolding her for it. Damien kept a tight grip on Emma’s hand, his dark eyes taking in the action impassively as if that wasn’t his flesh and blood in there.
She didn’t know the moves or the strategies. But Mike’s opponent already looked outmatched. Mike was practically a mountain, immovable. It was hard to imagine him and Savannah together—she might’ve been as big around as one of his massive thighs. As soon as it was apparent he was gaining the upper hand as the two fighters grappled on the mat, a tangle of sweaty, muscular limbs, it was easier for Savannah to watch and cheer him on. Even Damien was perched on the edge of his seat. Zane was yelling.
But the round ended, and the two went back to their corners as their coaches rushed in to patch them up and shout instructions in their faces. There were smears of blood on the floor, but at least most of it seemed to be coming from the other guy.
The next round began more slowly as the fighters stalked each other, fists at the ready. Then Mike struck like a viper, wheeling the other guy backward, and delivered a straight, perfect kick to the neck that sent him crumpling like a marionette with cut strings. The referee leapt in just as Mike began to dive on the guy to finish him off, and the place went wild with cheers, especially in the section where Emma sat. Savannah and Rowan were hugging in obvious relief and celebration, Zane and Damien exchanged a fist bump, and Emma realized in the middle of all of it how much she wanted to be a part of this family.
“Congratulations,” she told the girls, giving them both a hug. As soon as she released Rowan, Damien picked Emma up and whirled her around while she burst out laughing in surprise and delight.
“That was fucking awesome, Mike!” Zane yelled to his brother in the cage, who was grinning out at them as he poured half a bottle of water over his head. He devoured the rest of it, then was officially declared the winner by knockout twenty-three seconds into round two. Savannah tackled him when they let her in the cage, but he caught her easily and lifted her, muscles flexing in his massive arms. The rest of them hung back to give them their moment amid the flurry of activity in the cage.
Emma didn’t think she’d be able to wipe the grin off her face for days, but somewhere in the hubbub, she checked her cell phone, and that was enough to do it. She’d missed three calls from her mother. She lifted her eyes to find Damien’s on her.
“I need to take this,” she told him, having to yell over the noise of the crowd.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, that’s okay, you stay with your family. I’ll step right out there into the lobby.”
He nodded, but she felt him watching her climb the stairs as she went, until finally she was lost in the herd of people filing out.
Once emerging from the floor, she managed to find a corner outside of the flow of people and hit the call back button, her heart thudding hard. It was never good when her mom was that frantic to get up with her. She could’ve texted, but she hadn’t. And Emma knew from her wavering voice when she answered that something was very, very wrong.
“Mom? What is it?”
“It’s Benjamin,” Nancy sobbed. “He’s in jail.”
Chapter Twenty-three
“Oh God, Mom, what did he do now?”
“He was at some poker room when it got raided. They were going to just take the chips and let the players go, but he got an attitude with one of the officers. They searched him and found drugs. When they searched his car, they found more. I don’t know what, I don’t know how much, but it’s in the felony range.”
It didn’t surprise her in the least that one of Ben’s addictions had led to another . . . or else he was just selling, trying to make the money to support his main habit. “I’m sorry, Mom. But this might be the wake-up call he needs, you know?”
It broke her heart to hear her mom trying to inject strength into her voice. “We need to get together bail money so—”
“No. No, we do not. Let him sit there and learn his lesson.”
“Emma, how can you say that? I can’t stand the thought of him being in that place. You should have heard him on the phone; he’s so upset.”
Upset that he got caught. Blaming everyone but himself. “It’s his own damn fault he’s in that place! He’s never going to learn as long as we’re there to get him out of every jam he gets himself into.”
“Can you come over? Your dad’s working and I’m beside myself.”
Ugh. She hated lying to her mother. So she didn’t. “I can’t. I’m actually in Las Vegas.”
“What? What are you doing there?”
“I’m with friends.”
“When will you be home? I’ll need help trying to find him a lawyer and—”
“Mom! Let him find his own goddamn lawyer!”
“He doesn’t have any money, Emma.”
“The court will appoint him one.”
“No,” her mother said adamantly. “A court-appointed attorney doesn’t care about anything but getting their paycheck. They’ll take any deal the prosecutor tries to give him; they won’t work in his best interests.”
“You are not about to lay out a shit-ton of money for his defense, do you hear me? What he needs to do is take any deal they throw at him, work through it, and straighten his ass up, if he’s even capable.”
“You are always so hard on him, Emma. He has a problem.”
“You’re damn right he has a problem, and you’re not hard enough on him. Neither am I. You have no idea what I’ve been doing for him the past three weeks, Mother. No idea. And now he’s gone and gotten himself in more trouble, undoing everything I’ve been trying to do. I hate him.”
“Don’t say that.” Her mom was openly weeping now, all façade of strength gone. “Please don’t say that about your brother. And what have you been doing? I don’t like the sound of this.”
“No, you wouldn’t. But don�
��t worry about it. It’s between me and him. And he knows he’s messed up with me. I don’t care if I ever speak to him again.”
“I talked to him on the phone earlier. He thinks he can roll over on some of the other poker rooms and get himself a better deal with the prosecutor.”
All Emma’s thought processes shut down at once, and she had to force the air back into her lungs, will her heart to take its next beat. Damien took that moment to walk up to her, his brows drawn together so a furrow appeared between them. Her stricken expression must have been something to behold to make him look that way. “Oh my God.”
“Emma? What’s the matter?”
“Mom, I’ll call you back in a little bit.” She ended the call on her mother’s protests, still staring at Damien, absolute horror freezing her heart in her chest.
But before he asked what was wrong, he seemed to grapple his emotions into submission, his eyes dark and resigned as he said, “Tell me.”
“Ben’s been arrested. Damien . . . he’s going to roll.”
The pure evil that passed through his eyes then made her wonder if Ben was going to do more than that. Ben just might be about to die.
He’s not like that, is he? Please don’t let him be like that.
But the moment passed, and he calmly pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket and placed a call. She only heard his end of it.
“Stacia.” He drew a deep breath. “Ozymandias.” After another second, he hung up.
“What’s that?” she asked him.
“Let’s go.”
“Damien, what was that? Are you having my brother killed?”
He turned a look on her that might have been vague disbelief on someone else but was pure incredulousness on him. “We’re among goddamn people, Emma. You’d suck as a hood. No, I didn’t put a hit on your idiotic motherfucking brother. Safeguards, remember? Now, let’s go.”
“But your family—”
“They’ll make do without us.” He took her by the arm, leading her toward the building’s main exit.
“I’m so sorry about this. One of the other rooms got raided in town and he was there. He had drugs on him, a lot. He thinks if he runs his mouth about all the other illegal rooms that he might get a deal.”
“He’s a dumbass. He’ll have far worse people to worry about than me if he does this, Emma. Far worse.” His certainty about that made icy fingers walk down her spine.
The ride back to their suite was long due to traffic, and silent due to each of them being lost in their own thoughts. She tried to hold his hand, and he let her, but his grip was weak and careless. She needed his comfort as much as she wanted to comfort him, but he only stared out his window, finger pensively to his lips. She let him have his brooding time only until they made it to their room and the door shut behind them.
Then she turned on him. “What do we do?”
“What do you mean ‘we’? This is my problem.”
“You only have this problem because of me.”
“I put myself here as much as anyone else did. I take full responsibility. We all acted without giving much thought to the consequences. I know that. You were right.”
“Well, be that as it may . . . I need to go home.”
“What?” He’d gone completely still, staring darkly at her. She knew that look.
“Come on, Damien, don’t start with me. You know damn good and well I want to be with my family right now. They need me. Fuck Benjamin, but my parents need me. If for nothing else than to talk some sense into them, if it’s possible. Can we put things on hold?”
For a long time, he just looked at her. She felt naked under that stare.
“I want you here,” he said at last. It felt like an order.
“Damien, please.”
“There isn’t a damn bit of good you can do back home, and you know it.”
“But . . . are you just going to hold me hostage?”
He scoffed. “Hardly. You don’t want to go back any more than I want you to.”
“Maybe I don’t. But I need to. I’m asking to.”
“When are you going to stop letting them dictate your life? What you do, what you feel; fuck, Emma, you’re here with me because of them.”
“That’s not something I regret,” she said softly.
“Isn’t it?”
“No! Haven’t you been listening to me? These feelings I have for you . . . I couldn’t imagine not having them now.”
“I’m not letting you go. There’s no reason for you to.”
“Fine. Then I’ll wait for you to go play tomorrow, and I’ll take a cab to the airport, and I’ll catch my own flight. You don’t own me.”
“For this month I do,” he said savagely, and she took a step back in shock.
“I agreed to sleep with you for a month. I never agreed to become your property.”
“If you go back there now, you’ll only be right back where you started from, desperate enough to agree to something like this. You said you were done with bailing him out, but you’ll let your parents talk you into it. They’re leeches, Emma, and they’ll suck you dry. Stay with me.”
“Why?” she screamed, her pulse pounding in her head so that she could hardly hear anything else. “So you can suck me dry, too? I’m trading one leech for another. You’ll drain me of everything I am, and you won’t give me anything in return. I have to go back to them, and I have to get away from you before there isn’t anything left of me!”
“Emma,” he said softly, taking a step toward her, and though she wanted to hear what he had to say more than anything else in the world, she knew it would only confuse her more. She waved her hands, walking back from him.
“No. Stop. I can’t listen to you anymore. You’ll talk me into things that . . . I shouldn’t do. Things that aren’t me.”
“Everything I’ve ‘talked you into’ is you. I’m not turning you into someone else, I’m revealing what’s already there. What you won’t show to anyone else but me.”
“You don’t know what’s best for me. You can’t control everything in the universe.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“Yes you are!”
“I’m only trying to keep you where you belong.”
“I don’t belong with you if you’ll try to cut me off from everything and everyone I know and love.”
“I would never do that. Not in a million years. But I will protect you from being hurt by them, no matter how much you love them.”
“That isn’t your job if you can’t even tell me you love me.”
“Would that make you stay?”
She stared at him, her bottom lip trembling. No tears had come yet, though; she should be thankful for that. They were being held hostage in some deep, dark place he couldn’t reach. “Not if you didn’t mean it.”
“I would never say it if I didn’t.”
“Have you ever said it to anyone?”
“No. No one. Ever.”
Something in her broke for him, and she wanted to hold him, comfort him, but she couldn’t let herself. She had to stand her ground, or he would always be able to get her to bend for him. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid there’s nothing you can say that will make me stay here. If you won’t help me, that’s fine. But I’ll be gone tomorrow.”
“Emma . . .” The note of desperation that entered his voice was almost her undoing. Why did he care so much? What was it going to hurt for her to go home? Maybe it was his drive to win every game, make every decision . . . whatever. She couldn’t concern herself with it. She was a person, not a game.
“I don’t care about the money,” she told him. “Keep it. I don’t need it. Benjamin doesn’t deserve it. Hell, I’d thought about giving it all to my parents, but now I know they would only spend it all on his defense. So they don’t deserve it either. And I don’t want it. I love your life, Damien, but I think I’d rather have mine.”
“You deserve the money. I want you to have it. Not for anything you’ve done, but
because you’re a giving, selfless person and people like you deserve a break.”
“I don’t want it. I hear what you’re saying, but to me it will always feel like payment for services rendered.”
“Jesus,” he muttered, dropping his head to pinch the bridge of his nose. “It has never, ever been about that for me. The money’s going into your bank account whether you like it or not. Give it all to charity if you want. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”
Oh God, was she really doing this? She wanted so badly to stay. She did. And she wanted so badly to go, for her family, for self-preservation. Because one more week with him might be the end of her. Why did he render her incapable of making a single fucking decision? Walking away from him right now felt like walking away from him forever, and she didn’t understand why it had to be that way. “I hope you understand that I want to stay with you, I just . . .”
Her eyes alighted on the deck of cards sitting on the coffee table. He usually had them around, if only to shuffle while he was sitting idle; he claimed it helped him focus. He’d also told her once that sometimes he made decisions based on whether he could win a solo game or not, like flipping a coin. “Play me,” she said on impulse.
And to her grave surprise, he looked at her as if she were insane. “You don’t bet.”
“I do now.”
“I never play cards against women I’m sleeping with.”
Now that took her aback. She propped her hands on her hips. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Deadly.” He wasn’t smiling. Everything about him was as grim as that one word had been.
“Why not?”
“It’s a personal rule.”
“Even for fun?”
“For fun, maybe. Not when anything is on the line.”
“Make an exception. You win, I stay, I’ll take the money like you want, I might even buy myself something nice. I win . . . the bet’s off, and I walk away now.”
