To the Ends of the Earth (Stripped #5)

by Skye Warren

  I shiver. “I know.”

  “Besides, I owe you. If I hadn’t run away, it would have been me in those prayer sessions. It would have been me with a baby.”

  Shame coils inside me. “I hated you for that.”

  Her eyes turn glossy with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I hated that I couldn’t go with you. That I wasn’t strong enough or smart enough to run away like you.” It was a hollow kind of hate, weak and brittle.

  Her mouth drops open. “Strong enough? God, Beth. I wasn’t strong enough to stay. I couldn’t stand the thought of him touching me, not for anything. So I ran, not knowing if I’d survive. Not knowing or even caring who had to substitute for me. That was weakness, not strength. You’re the strong one. You’re made of freaking steel.”

  My throat feels thick. That’s what Luca said, but I didn’t believed him. He didn’t know everything that happened in Harmony Hills, and I prefer it that way. I don’t want to see the change in his eyes when he knows exactly what was done to me.

  Candy knows. And she thinks I’m strong.

  “Promise,” I whisper.

  Her nostrils flare. “I promise.”

  Relief flushes through me, swift and cool. “Thank you.”

  “She’s my flesh and blood. I would always take care of her. It’s an honor, not an obligation. But you—God, you’re me. You’re everything that I am, that I’ve been. Come back, Beth. I know you’ll come back.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Part of me expects Luca to have sex with me as soon as we were alone.

  And that secret part of me even longs for his heat, his unexpected tenderness. Longs for that sense of comfort I drew from his larger body curved around mine like that night in my apartment.

  But he doesn’t touch me in the black Escalade that takes us to the Tanglewood International Airport. He doesn’t touch me on the private jet we take to a small Chicago airport, a mile expanse of runway and flat green enclosed by city glass all around. And he doesn’t touch me on the limo ride into the city. If anything he seems to grow colder with every mile we take toward downtown.

  Finally the frosty silence is too much for me. “Did I do something wrong?”

  He glances at me, surprise flaring briefly. “Why would you think that?”

  Maybe Candy told him that I was afraid of him. I don’t think she would do that to hurt me, but she might have been trying to help. “You seem different. Angry.”

  Dark eyes study me. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Oh. Then why—”

  “We’ll stop by the hotel. I’ll get you checked in and you can rest in the room while I’m gone.”

  Alone.

  Maybe that would be a relief to some people. You’re never alone in Harmony Hills, not even in sleep. And definitely not in those private prayer sessions I still experience in my nightmares. When I escaped, I was with Candy for a little while. Then Delilah. I don’t know how to be alone. The silence cracks me like a hammer to glass.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the gym. I need to check in with some of my team. And I need to start training.”

  For the fight. Because that’s what he does—he hits people. And he gets hit. “Can I come with you?”

  It will be even worse now that I’m missing Delilah. Candy will take good care of her, but that knowledge does nothing for the hole in my heart.

  His eyes narrow. “It’s a rough place.”

  “I worked at the Last Stop.”

  He quirks a smile. “Yeah. I guess you can handle yourself.”

  Until the end. I desperately needed Luca’s help then. But I don’t think anyone will attack me when they know he’s in the vicinity. I may not trust him completely. I have a lifetime of experience telling me that men are dangerous, that violence breeds violence. But I know he won’t let anyone else touch me.

  In that way he has something in common with Leader Allen.

  He had been possessive, too.

  Even though Luca warned me about the gym, I’m still surprised when the limo glides to a stop in front of a warehouse. If it weren’t for the faint light pressing through grime-coated windows, I would have thought the place abandoned.

  It doesn’t look much better on the inside, the walls sprayed with something that looks like cotton from far away, a large expanse of concrete broken by squares of thin, fraying mats. Colored duct tape creates divisions in the massive room, making it clear that the practice isn’t haphazard even if it is low budget.

  I expected rough men like Luca, but in a gentile setting. Something with granite and leather. This is a stark contrast to the luxury with which he travels.

  Luca gives a low laugh beside me. “Thinking of backing out? I can have the driver take you to the hotel.”

  And sit in a cold room by myself. “No, thank you.”

  “MMA is only barely legal in Chicago. And there are a lot of restrictions. To keep fighting the way we do, with this kind of money on the line, they’ve kept it underground.”

  “Oh, so that’s why it’s so…”

  “Jacked up?” he offers.

  “I was going to say stark.”

  He snorts. “I’ll be here a couple hours. You can sit on the bleachers over there. If anyone tries to talk to you, just tell them you’re with me. Any questions?”

  “One. If this fight is underground, how are you sure that my brother will hear about it?”

  Appreciation flashes through his eyes. “Because the purse is the biggest. The prize. And that means the best fighters come out for this. Whether you’re in the fight scene or not, people come to the after party. It’s a free-for-all. We’ll set a trap for him there.”

  “Oh.” An underground fight and a party seem so far removed from our old life at Harmony Hills. My brother, Alex, and I had never been close. He’d been a true believer long before I had been forced to be Leader Allen’s personal attendant.

  “He’ll be there,” Luca says, sounding certain. “If you’re a dirty motherfucker—sorry. If you’re mixed up with a bad crowd, you’ll hear about it.”

  I manage a wan smile. “I guess you can swear now that Delilah isn’t here.”

  “You don’t like it.”

  It’s a shock to realize he knows that about me. That he can see right through me. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s a shit—a bad habit. And the fact that I’m joining the fight this late in the game will make all kinds of news. People have been training for six months.”

  My eyes widen. “And the fight is next week?”

  He cracks his knuckles, looking like some kind of Spartan warrior. I can imagine him in gold and red armor, fierce in the face of catapults and arrows. “I’ve got some ground to make up.”

  I blink. “But if you usually fight, why weren’t you already signed up for the fight.”

  “I was looking for you.” He turns his head away, shielding his eyes. “Besides, I’ve been trying to fight less.”

  My heart clenches. “You don’t like it anymore?”

  Then he looks back at me, showing every vicious thought, every carnal desire for violence. “I love it.”

  “Then why do you want to stop?”

  He nods toward the bleachers, where a few other women have set up shop with shiny phones and smoothies in Styrofoam cups. “Have a seat. I’ll try to keep it quick today.”

  “Wait.” I put my hand on his arm, amazed anew at the incredible strength that flexes beneath my palm. “You shouldn’t fight for me. It’s dangerous. And you haven’t trained enough.”

  “Have a little faith,” he says, gently chiding.

  “I lost my faith a long time ago,” I tell him honestly.

  He sizes me up. “Yeah. I guess you did, little bird. Well, rest easy. Fighting’s in my blood. This is what I was born to do. And you’re the best reason I’ve ever had to do it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I’m no stranger to violence.

  It’s still a shoc
k to see Luca in the ring.

  There’s blood and sweat, maybe spit, some tears as his opponent’s nose makes a horrifying crunch. When Luca said training, I thought he meant push-ups and squats. Maybe some carefully contained pretend fights with protective padding.

  Instead he’s wearing nothing but shorts slung low on his hips, gloves on his hands, and a mouth guard. The fight doesn’t seem to have rules. Trainers stand on either corner, hurling encouragement that sounds more like insults. Other fighters stop their training to watch Luca work. He takes out one man, then another. Then another.

  “He’ll be okay.”

  The voice startles me, and I turn to see a slender woman with brown hair and dark eyes. She’s sitting on the bleachers a couple rows back, a book folded open beside her.

  “You look a little tense,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “Colin will take good care of him.”

  I glance back at the ring, looking closer at the rough man outside Luca’s corner. “Colin?”

  “He’s working with Luca. I saw you come in with him.”

  “Oh. He’s a trainer?”

  “Kind of. He used to fight. Now he trains fighters, but he’s real selective about it.” She grins. “None of the other trainers wanted to work with Luca, considering how little time he had. But that’s the kind of challenge Colin likes.”

  My eyes widen. “I didn’t realize he’d be so far behind. Are you sure he’ll be safe?”

  “For training, definitely. The fights can get dicey.”

  I’m here to prevent violence. Not to cause it. “I told him he shouldn’t.”

  She laughs. “If he’s anything like Colin, he won’t budge once he gets an idea in his head. I’m Allie, by the way.”

  “Beth,” I say, feeling sheepish. She assumes that I’m with Luca, like we’re dating or something. What would she think if she knew Luca was only doing this to protect me? To protect Delilah? That he risked his safety for me?

  “Are you new in town?” she asks.

  “Very. We haven’t been to the hotel yet.”

  Her mouth drops. “I can’t believe Luca brought you straight here. I’m going to have to talk to him. Or maybe just smack him for you.”

  “It was my idea,” I say quickly. “I didn’t want to wait alone.”

  She softens. “Well, feel free to talk to me while you’re here. Once the guys get into this fighting stuff, they’re in their own world. Us girls have to stick together.”

  I don’t want to get close to someone. Don’t want to feel hope, only to be disappointed again. But the allure of friendship pulls too strongly. “Thank you,” I say, feeling shy.

  A little girl with a pink tutu and a ponytail hops up the bleachers. I can’t tell how old she is—maybe six. Maybe seven. “Mama! I’m hungry. Can I have a pretzel? Is it time to go? Ms. Ruby said she would braid my hair, but I like a ponytail better.”

  Allie’s face lights up with a love so bright it almost hurts to see. “Hey, Bailey. Look who I found. This is Ms. Beth. She’s here with Luca, the fighter your daddy is working with.”

  The little girl makes an o with her mouth. Her cheeks flush pink. “Hi.”

  Is this what Delilah will look like when she’s older? She has the same dark hair, straight and thick, unlike Delilah’s lush curls. They have the same wide eyes and baby-pink lips. My muscles feel tight, but I manage a smile. “Nice to meet you, Bailey.”

  Then the little girl is back to tugging on her mother. Allie laughs while she extracts an apple. “Eat your fruit and then you can get a pretzel from the stand. I’m not sure when Daddy will be finished, so maybe you and I can stay for another twenty minutes. Then we’ll go home and have dinner. Okay?”

  “Okay!” Bailey skips off, the picture of childhood innocence.

  It should look wrong against the backdrop of harsh concrete and violent men. But even their cold expressions soften when she skips by, crunching into her apple with vigor. She’s completely at home, completely comfortable. Completely safe.

  “That girl,” Allie says in a rueful tone. “Do you have any?”

  My throat sticks. “One. She’s younger than Bailey. Twelve months.”

  “Ohh, still a baby. I miss Bailey being that young.” Then she makes a face. “Though I wouldn’t go back to that time for anything.”

  Even though her voice is light, I sense that she’s seen real darkness. I don’t want to ask, but I’m drawn to the shadows. They ground me. They remind me of home.

  “Colin mentioned that you were going through a hard time,” she says softly.

  The admission is torn from me. “I can’t seem to get away from it.”

  Her eyes look older than her years. “You don’t have to tell me the details. If it helps you to know, I don’t mind telling you a little of my story. Colin isn’t actually her daddy. We met four years ago, when I was still struggling.”

  Bailey’s childish confidence takes on a new depth as I realize she’s already experienced loss. Grief. The way Delilah’s experiencing it, before she’s even old enough to know. “What happened to her father?”

  “He was…a troubled person.” She winces. “I’m not supposed to downplay it. He did bad things. I still don’t like to go as far as saying he was a bad person.”

  An unexpected comfort fills me. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  The feelings I have for Leader Allen are complex, layered. I despise him, but I respect him. And I definitely fear him. In the world he built, what he did to me wasn’t even wrong. It was his due. And even though I’m glad he’s dead, sometimes I miss him too.

  She gives me a sad smile. “Maybe it would be easier if I could just hate him and forget him, but he’s always there. When Bailey smiles a certain way or sneezes—and it reminds me of him all over again. I can’t escape him.”

  The same way I see Leader Allen in my baby girl. “So what do you do?”

  Allie seems so at peace. So happy. If I could find just a small piece of that ease, that security. If I could look even half as serene as she does…

  “Mostly I forgive him.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Luca showers before he comes to me, blood trickling in pale rivulets from a cut on the side of his head. I look through the little compartments in the back of the limo until I find a napkin. I fold it once and reach for him.

  He freezes. For a long moment I think he’ll refuse.

  Then he bends his head, almost princely as he receives my touch. I press the thin cloth against him, gentle in the face of his wound. His skin is hot and pulsing beneath my hand, body still flushed from the gym.

  He might be a lion, lethal and wild, but he’s my lion.

  And I want him on my side.

  “I can’t believe you fought so hard.”

  He takes the napkin from me, his smile more like a grimace. “Sorry. Figured you’d rather stay at the hotel than see me like that.”

  “No, it was…” I’m not sure how to describe his fighting. Brutal. Beautiful. “You were so skilled out there. Allie told me that the other trainers wouldn’t work with you.”

  He laughs. “They didn’t want me on their record if I got my ass handed to me.”

  “You beat eight guys in a row.”

  “Yeah, and I bet they’re feeling pretty fucking—pretty stupid right about now.”

  I had to smile. Swear words used to make me flinch, but I’m getting accustomed to them. Like getting a tan when you’ve been out in the sun a lot. Soon they might not bother me. “Serves them right.”

  “I’m glad I’m working with Colin. He’s tough. Straightforward. That’s what I need this close to the fight. Because those guys were just the beginning.”

  And already bruises bloom along his cheek. “Are you sure you should do this? What if we just told people you’re going to do it, so the word gets to my brother, and then you can pull out before the fight?”

  He looks offended. “And pussy out? If I say I’m going to fight, I’m going to fight. Besides, I want to
see the look of shock on their faces when I take the title.”

  I want to tell him it wouldn’t be weak, that sometimes surviving is the only kind of strength that matters. That’s the lesson I learned. And I think it might be the one Allie did too. But I know that a man like Luca can never embrace it. He’s forged himself into too powerful a weapon to ever bow down.

  The limo slows, and I glance at the tinted window. My breath catches at the black overhang that covers a shiny brass revolving door. Burnished-copper sconces line either side of the walkway. Close-set bricks form a walkway from the curb to the door.

  It’s an old-world style charm. An expensive charm.

  A valet opens the door, looking unfazed by Luca’s rough appearance. He changed into a T-shirt and jeans, faintly damp as if he dressed before completely drying off. He looks rugged and dangerous. We draw more than a few glances from the patrons inside, but the woman behind the desk doesn’t even blink when he hands over his credit card.

  “Your suite is on the eighteenth floor, Mr. Almanzar.”

  He takes the cards with a gruff, “Thank you.”

  “Wait,” I say, halting. My past taught me to be afraid of men. To be afraid of everything. But I don’t want to live in fear anymore. “Do you have a first-aid kit we could use?”

  The woman glances at Luca, then back at me. “Of course. I’ll have the concierge send one up with your luggage.”

  If he insists on fighting, then I’m going to insist on patching him up.

  And I’m taking Candy’s advice. I’ll trust him and see what happens. It’s a risk, but one I can make without jeopardizing Delilah. It’s just him and me for the next week.

  My last chance to see what’s possible. Intimacy. Sex.

  As for Allie’s advice, that will be harder to follow.

  Luca raises his eyebrow at me but doesn’t comment. He turns to the woman. “And send up dinner while you’re at it. Steaks, medium rare. Some wine.”

  “Of course,” she says, looking both apprehensive and awed.

  Only when we step into a mirrored elevator does Luca mutter, “I’m not dying.”