by Abby Niles
“You can’t have the entire damn city bought. If I call 911, someone is going to be sent out.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that. You won’t be causing problems for just me and Gabe.” Mitch handed her back her phone then motioned to someone behind her. “I think you need to meet someone.”
A few moments later, she was face-to-face with the Chief of Police.
“Kelsey, this is Andrew Smith”—there was a long deliberate pause—“the Chief of Police.” He clapped the chief on the shoulder. “Andrew, Kelsey isn’t too happy about this event. She’s new in town. Why don’t you let her know how things go around here?”
The man studied her. “We enjoy the entertainment the McNealys provide, but most of all, we appreciate the donations they give our city. We don’t need an outsider messing with that. Is that clear enough?”
Ella opened her mouth then closed it. There really wasn’t anything to say. They were untouchable. Fine. Whatever. She didn’t have to be a part of it.
She spun around and stormed back to her room to find Lance still standing inside.
“You know them. What’re they going to do with that fighter?”
He hesitated. Finally, he said, “It’s Mitch and Gabe. It’s anyone’s guess.”
That was not the answer she wanted, but she used this moment to drive her point home. “That could’ve easily been you. Do you get that?”
The only response she received was a tightening of his jaw. God, the man was fucking bullheaded. He wouldn’t stop until he was physically forced.
“Lance. Please. Rethink this. Regulated fighting is one thing. This free-for-all, anything-goes fighting is dangerous and irresponsible. Your next fight could do irreparable damage.”
Just then a fighter came to the door. “Lance. You’re up.”
“Please,” she begged and took a step toward him, arms outstretched. “If not for me, if not for yourself, think about Skylar.”
His entire body jerked back.
“I am,” he said between clenched teeth then stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Alone, she had to blink back the sudden sting of tears. He’d made his decision, and she had to make hers. As a medical professional, she couldn’t condone this type of fighting any longer. She’d make sure there wasn’t another Rodney incident, and if there were, she’d take him to the hospital herself. But after tonight, she was done. She didn’t give a rat’s ass what the McNealys tried to hold over her head to get her to stay.
She was done playing by their rules. She was done being afraid. She was just done.
Her door opened and Mitch stepped inside and closed the door behind him. A serious look was on his face. “You’re making me and Gabe nervous.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m a doctor. It’s one thing for me to be in here stitching up gashes and checking for concussion. It’s something else entirely when you take a man out of here who needs serious medical treatment.”
“For fuck’s sake, he’s going to get treated.”
Completely caught off guard by that admission, all she could do was blink. “He’s going to a hospital?”
Mitch thrust a hand through his hair. “Jesus, lady, we run a goddamn business that’s just a smidge outside the legal circle. If we want to keep our local backing, then we don’t let people die on our watch. That’s bad business. For everyone. We have everything covered. Just do what you’re told and mind your business.”
She was aware that he never confirmed that Rodney would be sent to a hospital, but he at least said he would be getting treatment. She hoped he wasn’t lying to her. “I can’t continue doing this.”
He swept his hand toward the door. “Then there’s the goddamn door. You’re beginning to be more trouble than you’re worth. We targeted you because you were new in town and accidently got yourself mixed up in our business. We needed to know who the fuck you were. We thought we had hit the jackpot when found out your secret. Thought you’d be cooperative. You’ve been anything but, and you’re seriously getting on my nerves.”
Lance stumbled through the door, breaking into their conversation. One eye was badly swollen, and bright red splotches stained his torso from multiple hits. At the sight, her stomach churned. His face and body hadn’t completely healed from the three fights he’d had just a couple of weeks ago. Now more injuries were added on top of injuries. This would only lead to disaster.
“Was it worth it?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking, furious that he kept punishing his body.
“I won, so yeah, it was.”
So he’d made it to the final round. One step closer to the thirty thousand dollars that was so damn important. Fantastic.
“Sit down,” she said and snatched up her penlight, dismissing Mitch, who let out a string of curses and left the room.
As he climbed up on the gurney, he let loose a muted, pained groan through clenched teeth. Anger festered inside her—at Lance, at the McNealys, at herself for being a part of this madness.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You were really upset over Rodney.”
“Upset? I wasn’t upset. I’m angry.”
“Why?”
“Unregulated fighting. Multiple fights. A doctor”—she patted herself on the chest—“who knows better but is here anyway. No. I’m not upset. I’m done. Just go out there and win that thirty thousand you covet so much.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I mean, it was your idea and all.”
His throat worked on a swallow. “That’s unfair. I have my reasons.”
“Why? Because you owe the McNealys money?”
He was silent for a long moment before he nodded and slid off the gurney. “Yeah. I do.”
Without another word, he stiffly walked out the door.
Even though she’d already figured it out, having her assumption confirmed hit her hard.
As much as she liked Lance, loved being with him, this was her deal breaker.
…
The blow rocked Lance hard as it connected with his jaw and whipped his head to the side. Shaking it off, he refocused on the other fighter as he limped a circle around the man. Thankfully, Brent, who’d made it to the final round with him, was an equal. Lance didn’t think he had the strength to go up against another Bane from Batman. He was wobbly on his feet. His head ached to high hell, and every muscle screamed in protest.
The other guy didn’t look any better with two swollen eyes and a nose two sizes bigger than it should be. Neither one of them had tried taking the fight to the ground. Both knew that with their energy depleted either one of them could take control if things went to the floor—no matter who had been the dominant one and initiated the takedown.
Duking it out was the only option.
He was ready for the fight to end—for this night to end. But not without collecting the winnings. Using that incentive, he popped the guy hard in the face. The punch forced Brent to lower his guard and Lance responded with a jab in the same place. That was all it took. The guy crumbled.
As he watched the man struggle to his feet, he kept his guard up, waiting for him rise, refusing to do what so many others had done tonight and take advantage of a grounded opponent. He wanted that damn money so bad he could taste it, but he would never compromise his ethics as a fighter to get it. No matter how fucking exhausted he was.
None of the fights tonight had been easy. Each fighter had been as determined as he was to win the payout. And Brent was no different. He forced himself up, then wobbled violently to the left a few feet before lowering to one knee, shaking his head.
Call the fucking fight. The guy had had enough.
But the referee stood back. Had he been in a regulated match, this would be over. Lance was either going to have to knock the motherfucker out, or he had to tap. There was no fucking way the man would tap without being forced to. Not being this close to the prize.
Lance hated every second of this. MMA was regulated for a goddamn reason. It kept fighters sa
fer, the injuries less severe. This crap right here was bullshit. He prayed the guy passed out so this insanity would end. When the man pushed back to his feet and faced Lance with his fists raised, he silently cursed.
Damn idiot. Know when you’ve had enough.
Brent swayed horribly with a dazed look in his eyes, not really focused on Lance. Hell, not focused on anything. One more punch would do the man in.
Lance didn’t have it in him to throw it. The man couldn’t handle another hit to the head. Considering he was now worse off than Lance, a submission would be possible and much safer. Swiping his leg out, he knocked his opponent off his feet. As he went down, Lance quickly covered him, locking in a knee bar that had Brent instantly slapping the ground. After he released the man, he clambered to his feet, trying to ignore the agony in his body.
When the referee grabbed his wrist and lifted it high in the air, causing Lance to grimace at the slice of pain that radiated from his side, the reality set in. He’d fucking won.
“And the winner of Last Man Standing: Lance ‘Total Annihilation’ Black!”
The name startled him. Total Annihilation? He guessed that was exactly what he’d done. Pride momentarily relieved the agony. After twenty years, he’d finally earned his fighter’s name.
He glanced to the back of the warehouse, hoping Kelsey had witnessed his naming. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest, but there wasn’t a lick of happiness for him in her expression. As she met his gaze, she shook her head, straightened, backed into the room, then closed the door.
Why was he disappointed by her lack of support? He’d known going into the first bout this evening that Kelsey disapproved of his involvement. While he could appreciate that it was over his wellbeing, it didn’t make her obvious judgment hurt any less.
As he stepped out of the ring, Mitch and Gabe approached him.
“Congratulations, Black,” Mitch said, holding out his hand, which Lance took albeit reluctantly. “You earned every dime of that thirty thousand. That was one hell of a gamble you took.”
He wasn’t stupid. He didn’t have a lot more unregulated fights in him. The thirty thousand dollar credit had knocked his debt down by half.
“Yeah. It worked out well. Look, I’d like to get cleaned up and get home.”
“Of course. Go. Relax.”
From the jovial vibe coming from both men, Lance assumed they’d brought in a killing tonight. Whatever. All he cared about was that he’d won.
He left the cousins and made his way back to the bathroom the McNealys had converted to a useless locker room. There wasn’t a shower, but he could use the sink to get the worst of the funk off, and change clothes. He needed to talk to Kelsey, but after what had transpired tonight, he refused to do it fresh from the fight.
After using a wet towel to clean up the sweat and blood, he changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and grimaced.
Bruises shadowed both of his puffy eyes and crossed the bridge of his nose. One of the punches he’d taken had opened a cut high on his cheekbone. It wasn’t a deep one, but the red line stood out ugly and proud. Cleaning up had been pointless. Just looking at his face would be a reminder of why she was so mad at him.
After grabbing his bag, he strode out into the warehouse. Twenty minutes, tops, had passed since he went into the locker room, but already the place had thinned out considerably. He made a beeline for Kelsey’s room. He wasn’t going to sit outside like he had last time. They needed to talk.
When he reached the door, he opened it and was greeted by a darkened room. What the hell? Scanning the warehouse, he didn’t see any sign of her. He rushed outside. There were a few cars still in the parking lot, but none of them were Kelsey’s.
Had she really left?
After jogging to his car, he tossed his bag inside, jumped into the driver’s seat, and peeled off down the road. He’d seen the disappointment and disapproval on her face. He’d hated seeing it there, but he couldn’t do what she was asking of him. This was his debt. His responsibility. He had to see it through. No one else could fix it for him.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled up in front of her house and was relieved that her car was parked in the driveway. He hurried up the walk and banged on her door, then leaned against the frame as his muscles screamed at the abrupt movement.
The door flew open. Kelsey eyed his stance, crossed her arms, and leveled him with an “I told you so” glare. “How you feeling?”
“Sore as fuck.” No reason to sugarcoat it. His ribs hurt, his head hurt, his fucking big toe hurt.
She gave a very unladylike snort. “You’re lucky you can even stand.”
God, he didn’t want to rehash his fighting with her again. “You left,” he said.
“I had no reason to stay.”
Ouch. Damn. From the way she kept herself firmly planted in front of the threshold, she had no intentions of letting him stay here either.
“Can I come in?”
“I don’t think we have anything left to say to each other, Lance. I don’t want to be a part of this any longer. In fact, I am not going to be a part of it. I said I was done, and I’m done.”
Every wall he’d spent the last few days bringing down was firmly back in place. She was unyielding.
“So, when you said that earlier, you were including me.”
“I want nothing more to do with the McNealys, and being involved with a man who owes them money isn’t doing that. So, yes, my comment included you.”
This was the second woman who was leaving him because of his involvement with the cousins. The first time, he’d deserved it. This time, he didn’t. “Will you at least allow me to explain?”
She tilted her chin in the air, a defiant move he’d seen her display many times in the past. “I don’t see how an explanation will change anything. You’re still involved with the McNealys. Have been for a long time, per your words, which means you don’t learn. I just can’t.”
A different kind of pain spread across his chest. It was like Piper was standing right in front of him, condemning him and his decisions, but coming from Kelsey it hurt even more. He hadn’t wanted to tell her about his immense debt to the McNealys, even if the reason had been Skylar’s life. She was a doctor. Made damn good money. What would she want with a man who was in over his head in debt? But if she was going to judge him on his actions, she would at least do it with the full story.
“Just let…please.”
Her arms tightened around herself before she shuffled back and allowed him to enter. After she closed the door, she motioned toward the living room. He slumped onto the couch, but she remained standing. He didn’t like the distance, and he could only hope his story would bring her closer.
“You’re really done with the McNealys?” he asked.
She nodded. “I refuse to work for them any longer.”
He studied the way she carried herself. Proud. Strong. Confident. The way she always had, but it was different now. More natural. Not as rehearsed. A switch had happened tonight. He wasn’t sure if it had to do with her disapproval of the Last Man Standing event, the incident with Rodney, or her reaction to that guy’s attack…or a combination of all it. She was getting closer to leaving.
A sad smile came to his lips. “I’m proud of you, Kelsey.”
And he was, even if he didn’t want her to go.
For a long, uncomfortable moment, she studied him, arms crossed under her breasts. Finally she asked, “Why?”
He wouldn’t pretend to not understand her question. It was the same one she’d been asking all night. She deserved a straight answer, but finding the words was proving to be more difficult than he imagined.
She crossed the room to the couch and slowly sat on the edge. There was still distance between them, but much less than before.
“It’s not a simple answer. The first time I was involved with them, I was a member of one of their gambling ho
uses. Long story short, I had a gambling problem, lost a shitload of money to them that I couldn’t afford to lose. To win it back, I put up the deed to a house I’d inherited from my grandfather. I lost that bet, too, along with my wife and Skylar.”
“Jesus, Lance.”
“Sometimes a person has to hit rock bottom. Losing Piper and Skylar was mine. I stopped gambling after that, and cut all ties with them until a couple of years ago.”
He stared off into the distance at nothing in particular, remembering the day his ex-wife had called him, hysterically crying, with the news of their daughter’s diagnosis. The world had stopped in those moments as a horror he’d never felt before took root. The terror had only grown as he watched his child fight for her life.
“What made you get involved with them again?”
“Skylar got sick.”
“Sick? Skylar was sick?”
“Leukemia.”
Kelsey pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God. I can’t even imagine how you and Piper felt.”
“Scared shitless, especially after the treatments didn’t work and the only option left was a new drug our insurance refused to cover.” He still felt fury over that. While his daughter was struggling to beat a disease that had taken over her little body, some jerk in an office was stamping a rejection on their claim. “I tried all the traditional ways to get the money, but was denied.”
Understanding dawned on Kelsey’s face as she sat up straighter. “You went to the McNealys. That’s the money you owe them.”
He nodded. “They gave me a hundred and twenty thousand dollars. Honestly, I think the only reason they gave it to me was because Mitch lost a sister to cancer and he had a very rare moment of compassion. Not that they were completely generous. The interest rate is insane and they are making a nice profit off this, but I didn’t have a choice. We set up a payment plan. I’ve spent the last two and half years paying them back. Things were fine up until the day you found us in the alley.”
“What happened?”
“The McNealy’s were being the McNealys. They decided to make a change to our agreement. I either agreed to fight for them, or I owed the remaining balance in full within twenty-four hours.”
