by Magan Vernon
Fight For You
Magan Vernon
Text copyright© 2014 by Magan Vernon
All rights reserved
www.maganvernon.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form by or any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.
For information visit www.maganvernon.com
Summary: A mafia prince who doesn't want the crown.
A girl who has secrets of her own.
One love that they'll both have to fight for.
Nicky Ragusa lives his life inside the cage, circuiting the underground ring to escape his fate as the mafia prince. When Jackie Marks crashes into his life, he’ll take the fight outside the cage.
But the battle for Jackie’s heart comes with a steep price. Nicky’s father has wanted him to take over the family business for years, and the time for running is over. Now Nicky is right where his father has always wanted him: in the middle of a war.
All Nicky has ever wanted to do was fight. Now all he has to do is fight for her.
First Edition, April 2014
Cover Design by Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations
www.okaycreations.com
Cover photo by Kelsey Keeton at K Keeton Designs
Cover models are Steven Gibson and Mandi Caswell.
Edited by Jen Hendricks
For Mi Famiglia
If you love someone, let them know every day. There are things we can’t control in this world; love and death are the two big ones. Make sure you let those people you love know how much they mean to you every single day.
Other Books by Magan Vernon
How to Date an Alien (My Alien Romance Series #1)
How to Break up with an Alien (My Alien Romance Series #2)
How to Marry an Alien (My Alien Romance #3)
My Paper Heart
Life, Love, & Lemons
The Only Exception
The Only One
Fight For You
One Wild Night
Wild Hearts
The Wild One
The Wild Side
Wild For You
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
About Magan
More from Magan
Chapter 1
Someone once told me that you can find the beauty in everything, but if there really is beauty in everything then at some point everyone has to destroy something beautiful.
“Nicky, you’re done! He’s out! Nicky!” Coach’s words barely registered to my brain. Every time my fist smacked against my sparring partner, I expected a surge of pain, but nothing came. I was numb. All I did was hit the bag for days, trying to get my head somewhere else, anywhere but my reality, so Coach suggested we try a sparring partner.
“Just lemme get a few more punches in. That’s all I need.” I took a few more jabs at the guy. I had him in a hold and there was no way he was getting out of it. I thought if I felt the rush of winning that it would do something. I wanted to feel something. Anything. But still there was nothing.
Coach grabbed my wrists, stopping them in mid air. “Nicky, you’ve had enough. Let the damn kid up!”
I stared down at the guy below me. At one time he had a baby face with bright blonde hair and now he was completely covered in blood. The same blood that covered my hands. The only thing I could see was the bright blue of his eyes as he stared up at me. They were filled with fear as if I was about to kill him. I probably could have if Coach hadn’t stopped me.
Coach gripped tighter onto my wrists. “It’s time to leave. The fight’s this weekend. You’re ready, kid. You know that as well as I do.”
I let out a deep breath and released the kid, standing up. I’d been at the gym a lot longer than I thought. Every part of my body groaned. Finally some sort of feeling. “Yeah, say that when el Lobo has his foot in my ass or some other move he pulls out. That fucker fights dirtier than he looks.”
Coach sighed, watching my sparring partner run to one of the trainers so he could bandage his pretty face. “You’re your father’s son, Nicky.”
I stared at him. He didn’t mean the words as an insult but they hit me harder than a punch ever could. My father was never who I wanted to be.
“You’re right, Coach.” I turned away slowly and walked to the weight bench, sitting down. I slowly peeled off the tape that bound my hands. It was so worn from the day’s exertions that it looked gray rather than the bright white it was when I first got to the gym after work.
Coach walked over and patted my shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Nicky. You just have a hard head sometimes.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I just focused on unwrapping each one of my hands, instead of looking up at the disappointed glint in his eyes. It was the same conversation we had every night. He’d ask me to stop by his house, make some crack about his old lady making too much food anyway and how the kids wouldn’t bother me too much. I’d, of course, say I had some work to catch up on or that my mom was making pasta and asked me to stop by. Neither of which were true and he knew it.
But tonight he didn’t fight me.
“All right, Nick, think ya can lock up when you’re done? You know, the old lady has been on my ass out being out late every night and with the fight this weekend ...” his words trailed off. I didn’t need to look up to know that he was raking his fingers through his salt and pepper crew cut, the way he always did when he was nervous. I’d seen it a million times when I was in the cage.
“Yeah, Coach, you’re fine. Go, be with Tracy and the kids. You don’t need to babysit me. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
I stopped unwrapping my hands and looked up at him, forcing a smile. Did I really want him to leave so that I would be alone? No. Sure, I could have called up my cousin Dominic, but he would probably still be at the Candy Shop. Some guys enjoyed going to the strip club every night, but to me, it would always be the place that my father did his backroom deals with some battona on his lap. I knew all of this because he started taking me when I was in middle school. He said I had to learn the family business young if I was going to take over.
“Yeah, Coach, I’m positive. Now go on. Don’t make me kick your ass.” I patted him on the back.
“Not before the fight, Nick. Save that for the scumbag wolf, will ya?” He stepped back, holding his hands up. Coach was a good fighter and could probably still hold up with the best of them, but now in his early forties, he wasn’t as spry as he used to be and I was pretty sure I could take him out with one kick. I’d never try, but if someone else did I’d kill them. That was a fact.
“Will do.”
He nodded and stared at me, shoving his hands in his pockets. I knew he wanted to say something else, but we both knew that he wouldn’t. That wasn’t his style. He kicked the shit out me in training and
in the cage. Other than that, he tried to stay out of it as much as possible. That’s why he had stayed in my life so long.
“Goodnight, Nick.”
“Night, Coach.”
***
Summer nights in Chicago are their own animal, especially on this side of town. I walked out of the back door, making sure to lock it behind me. The single light bulb that hung over the steel door of the gym flickered above me, doing nothing to light the way of the long alleyway ahead.
It may have been unseasonably warm out but I still put on my hoodie and pulled my hood over my head. In this part of town I didn’t want to be recognized. I preferred to blend in most places, but especially there. There was no need to stand out. It’s why I parked my car in the very back of the gym, and why I chose this gym over all the others in the city to train. I didn’t want to make a spectacle of myself.
My shoes barely made a sound on the city pavement and I tried not to breathe in the stench of the city: smog, rotten food, and body odor. It was a terrible mix and I usually just tried to get to my car as fast as possible.
“I’ll fucking cut you, stupid bitch!”
The words stopped me in my tracks. I usually ignored what was going on around me when I left, but it wasn’t just the words. It was the sound of a woman’s muffled cries. It could have been some drunk couple fighting for all I knew, but there was something that pulled me forward.
I knew how to move light on my feet and I made sure to stay in the darkness as I slunk against the wall until I came to another narrow passageway where three silhouettes were barely lit by a neon sign for some bar. Once my eyes adjusted to the light I saw a man towering over a woman who had her back to me, and I knew she was scared by the way her whole body shook. Even though I was at least twenty yards away, I could see her fear.
I balled my hands into fists. I wanted to kill the bastardo right there.
“Emilio, you told me you just went out for a smoke! Then I come out here and you’re fucking Pixie behind the dumpster,” the woman cried, each word laced with pain. Her words crushed me and I wanted to pound the guy’s skull for making her cry.
“And you think you can just fucking punch me because you think you see something? Don’t even give me a chance to explain myself?” The guy, Emilio I guess his name was, said, acting like he was in the right and she was completely in the wrong. Like he owned her. I would have punched his ass too.
“What’s there to explain? You were fucking Pixie!”
Pixie was just standing there in a skirt that was still hiked up high enough that her ass cheeks were hanging out. But she wasn’t moving, just standing there and twirling her long blonde hair like she owned the place. Like she had every right to be there.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a bitch I wouldn’t have to go and fuck other women.”
I gritted my teeth and it took everything I had to stay in place and not go after him. All I needed was to go after the guy and have ten of his buddies jump out after me. I was pretty confident in my skills in the cage, but not when it wasn’t a fair fight. I’d probably have to give a call to one of my guys and see what could be done as soon as I got home.
“You know what? Fuck you, Emilio. I’m done with this shit. It’s been five long years and I’m done!” She turned away and he grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t walk away from me, Jackie. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She didn’t say another word, just grunted as she pulled her arm free of his and ran down the alley as quick as her heels could carry her. I made sure to stay against the wall, so she couldn’t see me, but I could see her. I wanted to make sure that fucker didn’t follow her, because if he did I would make him pay.
When she ran past me her long black hair grazed my chest. I thought she might have seen me, but she just kept running if she did. I was still in fight mode but I knew I had to go after her, so I slowly followed, making sure I maintained my distance. She rounded the corner and went toward the parking lot for a hair salon and tattoo parlor. Same place I parked my car.
I expected her to maybe get into some sort of a compact car, but the girl jumped right on a motorcycle and gripped the handlebars. She flipped her hair back and in the dim light of the parking lot, I got my first glance at her gorgeous face.
Now, I wasn’t one of those guys who was with a different woman every night, despite what my cousins and some other fighters were like. I preferred being alone. Women usually just complicated things. But for her dark green bedroom eyes, long eyelashes and those perfectly pouty lips, I would make an exception. Her tight body, curved into her black tank top and jeans, was enough to make me want to throw her down right there on the bike and show Emilio what he just threw away.
But I didn’t give into my animal instincts. Instead I hopped into my car. She didn’t even glance over at me. It was like I didn’t even exist. Maybe it was better that way if I was going to make sure she was okay. Then her scumbag, hopefully ex-boyfriend, wouldn’t come after me as well. That would be a real problem.
I thought she would take off and leave the parking lot right away, but the bike kept sputtering. Each time the bike didn’t start she would look over her shoulder, like she was waiting for someone to come after her. Maybe she was.
I acted like I was looking for a song on the radio, but I was just stalling. I was about to get out and ask her if she needed a ride or help starting it, when her bike finally came to life and she sped out of the parking lot.
I followed, making sure to keep a safe enough distance so she didn’t think I was following her for a bad reason. The thought made me feel like a psycho. I should have just introduced myself, told her who I was and that I could help her.
No.
Fuck that.
If I did she would be all over me, want me and my family’s money. That’s what girls usually wanted.
Or maybe she was different.
Either way there was something pulling me forward. Pulling me toward her. Wanting her safety.
That something definitely wasn’t pulling her forward when her bike came to a halt in the middle of Belmont. I slammed on my brakes, praying I had enough time to avoid her. I looked to my left and right, trying to see if I could swerve, but there were cars parked on both sides and I had nowhere else to go. The last things I saw were the whites of her eyes before my car was crashing into her back tire and she went flying forward.
My heart stopped for an entire second as I stared at her immobile body laying on the ground. I would have called an ambulance. I should have called an ambulance, but if her ex was really after her that would have just drawn more attention to her. To both of us. I looked out my window and there wasn’t anyone else around. No one bothered to come out and see what the commotion was. Slowly, I pulled my car up until I was right next to her. She didn’t move, her body completely lifeless and scraped like someone had taken a cheese grater to her gorgeous skin. I’d seen my fair share of blood in the cage, but when I looked at Jackie it was a completely different story.
I slowly opened my car door and got out. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t want to have to call my father and make her disappear. She didn’t deserve that kind of an ending.
I got out and knelt at her side, putting my head to her shirt. A smile of relief instantly came to my face once I felt the small rise and fall of chest against my cheek. She was alive. Fuck yes. Now I just had to get her to the hospital.
“Hey, Jackie is it? Can you hear me?” I pulled away slightly and hovered over her. Jackie’s face was completely still, but gorgeous. Even with her dark-lined eyes and pouty red lips, there was something innocent and fragile about her that I wanted to take care of.
Slowly, I put my arms underneath her and then cradled her against me, lifting her off the ground. She was so small in my arms, I couldn’t imagine anyone trying to harm her. Especially not the bastard boyfriend or whoever he was. She moaned slightly once I got to my feet.
I opened my back door and laid her fla
t on her back, making sure to keep her spine straight. I didn’t know what kinds of injuries she would be dealing with, but I knew I had to get her out of there. I wasn’t sure who would come after her and I had to protect her, even if the monster who hurt her was me.
“Don’t worry. I have you. You’re safe now,” I whispered.
And that was exactly how I intended to keep her. Safe.
Chapter 2
She didn’t move the entire way over to the hospital. I kept glancing in my rearview mirror, waiting for any sign of her to come to life. I’d fought so many men in the cage. I’d seen so much violence in my life, even at my own hands, but to someone so vulnerable, it hurt. I couldn’t believe I could do that to someone. I felt like the biggest piece of shit and I had to make it right.
I pulled into the parking lot and of course the emergency room at Mercy was packed. I wasn’t sure if I should move her. It probably would have caused more damage so I pulled right up to the front entrance
I kept the car running and went around the other side, opening the back door. I knelt down next to Jackie and whispered in her ear, “Can you hear me? Jackie? Please wake up.”
Nothing. Only silence.
Shit.
“Okay, I’m going to get you help.” I knew she wouldn’t answer me, but it felt better to talk to her.
The automatic doors zipped open into the bright, fluorescent lights of the waiting room. Dozens of people were sitting on every chair available, with their arms wrapped in makeshift bandages or holding their heads and moaning about something or other. Each person worse than the next.
I walked up to the desk where a woman sat behind bullet proof glass, staring at a computer. She glanced up as soon as I approached. Her bored expression didn’t change.
“How can I help you, sir?” she asked, letting out a deep breath.
I pointed to the double doors behind me. “Yeah, hi, I witnessed a hit and run accident with a girl on a motorcycle and she’s currently in my backseat. I need someone to come and help to get her out.
“Okay.” The woman stood up, her expression finally changing. Her eyebrows knitted together and she actually started to look concerned. “Is she passed unconscious?”
