If You Fight (Corrupted Love Book 2)

by K. M. Scott

  Serena hung her head and quietly answered, “Because I thought you might be unhappy.”

  I looked down at the result and saw two pink lines. Looking up at her, I asked, “Well, what does two lines mean? Yes or no?”

  She grabbed it from my hold and sat down hard on the lid of the toilet. “It means yes.”

  “Yes?” I repeated as the answer sunk into my brain still muddled from sleep. “You’re pregnant?”

  “Yeah,” she said, frowning as she nodded.

  “You don’t seem happy. Why?”

  Without looking at me, she fiddled with her fingers in her lap. “I remembered how you reacted last time. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about this with everything going on.”

  How I’d behaved when she told me before she was carrying my child flashed through my mind, and I cringed at how much an asshole I’d been questioning if it was mine. No wonder she wasn’t sure I’d even want to know about it now.

  But things weren’t the same as they’d been then. She wasn’t another man’s wife and we wouldn’t have to hide the good news that we were having a baby.

  I reached out to take her hands in mine and pulled her up. Taking her in my arms, I hugged her to me. “I’m sorry I was such an ass then. I’m happy you’re pregnant, Serena. I don’t care what’s going on with everything else.”

  She looked up at me and smiled. “So you’re not worried?”

  Cradling her face in my hands, I shook my head. “Worried about what?”

  With a sigh, she said, “Everything. My father. You fighting. The fact that we’re still stuck here. Everything.”

  I shook my head at each mention of the very things that could make our life together misery. “Nope. None of that worries me.”

  “And you’re happy about the baby?”

  “Yes. Very happy. Are you?”

  She hesitated for a second and took my hands in hers to kiss them. “I want to be happy. I’m happy it’s your baby. I just worry that something is going to happen that’s going to make having this baby difficult.”

  I hated seeing her worried when this should have been one of the happiest days of her life. I wanted her to love the idea of us having a baby, not spend nine months concerned that at any moment her father would do something horrible to ruin it for her.

  “I think it’s perfect timing. You’re going to find your mother any day now, and then the baby will get to know his grandmother while you’re getting to know your mother.”

  Serena smiled and then her eyebrows raised into her forehead. “Wait a minute. His grandmother? How do you know it’s a boy? Maybe it will be a girl.”

  “That would be okay too. I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl as long as it’s healthy and you’re healthy.”

  “You promise? I’ve spent my life living with a father who wanted sons. I’d never want a daughter of mine to go through that.”

  I kissed her sweetly and pressed my forehead to hers. “I promise. I’m not like him, Serena, so you don’t have to worry. Girl or boy, it won’t matter to me. I’ll love him or her as much as I love you.”

  She slid her arms around my neck and hugged me. “Then I’m happy we’re having a baby.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you and whatever comes up. You take care of our baby. Deal?”

  Lifting her head off my chest, she smiled. “Deal. It’s going to be okay, isn’t it?”

  I looked down into those dark eyes still with a hint of worry in them and nodded. “It’s going to be more than okay. I promise.”

  As she sighed contentedly, I silently made plans to ask Floyd if he would be able to find me more fights. With a baby coming, I needed to make a lot more money as fast as possible so no matter what happened with Robert, we’d be able to leave so our child wouldn’t grow up around the ugliness of his world. I’d won last night, and if I trained even harder than I had for the past three weeks, I knew I could win even more.

  The undefeated champion who hadn’t lost in nearly twenty matches still existed inside me. Now I needed to bring him back to life so I could provide for the woman I loved and our baby. I didn’t want to be in the position where Robert would be able to dictate our lives anymore, and fighting would finally let me take Serena and escape this place.

  We’d just have one more to leave when the time came, and I had to make sure we didn’t lose that chance because I didn’t do enough to ensure it happened.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ryder

  During the day, the warehouse seemed devoid of the ugliness that it routinely saw at night when fights were held there. Sure, it looked just as bad with the broken glass and concrete lying all over, but until Serena mentioned that, I had never noticed those things. Or maybe I had back when I first came to the warehouse and I’d been there so many times since that they didn’t even register anymore.

  I made my way toward the back to a room where Floyd sometimes spent time in the afternoons, if he wasn’t out finding fighters. I saw nobody as I walked through the main room that functioned as The Pit at fight time, but in the distance I heard what sounded like Floyd’s old AM/FM radio he liked to listen to sports talk radio on. It always sounded more like static intermittently interrupted by someone talking, but he refused to give in and buy something from this century to listen to.

  Sometimes when I lived at the warehouse, I’d sneak in at night and take the radio back to my room so I had something besides the sound of my own breathing and my thoughts to listen to as I fell asleep. It wasn’t much, but even static made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone in that big building.

  Then in the morning, I’d make sure to return it to his makeshift office before he arrived so he didn’t think I’d stolen it. Floyd and I weren’t exactly great friends back then, but I knew better than to piss him off by taking that damn radio.

  I peeked my head around the doorframe to see him sitting hunched over in the old office chair he’d had before I met him. The frayed fabric seat routinely seemed to possess a mind of its own, so when he sat down in it, sometimes he flailed around for a moment before getting his balance. It was funny to watch because he looked like a first timer on a pair of ice skates, and sometimes he landed on his ass flat on the floor.

  “Hey, Floyd, what’s up?” I asked, interrupting him as he listened to some guy talk about the Raptors and their shitty season so far.

  He popped his head up from next to the radio and smiled. “Ryder, what are you doing here? I figured you’d be resting today back at Mr. Erickson’s estate. You still live there, right?”

  I took a few steps into the room and stopped at his question. “Yeah. Why?”

  Turning the knob on his radio, he lowered the sound just enough that all that came out of that dirty little white box was static and carefully spun around in his chair to face me. “No reason. He was none too pleased last night, so I wasn’t sure if he lowered the boom on you and sent you packing.”

  I’d escaped Robert’s wrath after the fight, and I hadn’t seen him since. That meant that when I did see him when I got back to the estate, I better be ready because he’d likely be pissed.

  Floyd didn’t need to know any of that, though, so I brushed off his worry and smiled. “No, I’m still there. I imagine he has more fights planned for me, so why send away your gold mine, right?”

  Chuckling, Floyd lost his balance as the chair took control and nearly tossed him onto the floor. Flailing his arms, he grabbed onto the old desk, sending the calendar from 2003 he’d never replaced skidding across the top, but finally steadied himself.

  “You nearly made me fall out of my chair, son. Be careful how you talk about Robert Erickson around here. These days, he’s the only show in town. Make him angry and you’ll find yourself frozen out, gold mine or not.”

  I pretended not to care about Robert’s overwhelming power in the local fight scene and shrugged. “I think you need to be careful of that chair, Floyd. That thing is going to kill you one of
these days. You’ll get bucked off and crack your damn head against that desk. And speaking of being careful, what was with the music last night? We used to have to keep the lights low so the cops wouldn’t know what was going on here, and now the fighters get theme music?”

  “Not anymore. Hell, Robert Erickson has the cops in his back pocket, so now he wants a little more show. I thought Aerosmith’s Back in the Saddle seemed right for you. Did you like it?”

  “I guess,” I said, not sure how I felt about this new policy. The fights didn’t need any help with the show part. They were already more circus than sport.

  He looked around toward the desk like he was assessing the damage it could do if his chair decided to throw him and then turned back to face me. “No kidding, Ryder. I don’t know about the other parts of your life, but in fighting, Erickson’s the only show in town.”

  “About that,” I said, hesitating for a moment, unsure I could trust Floyd.

  It didn’t matter, though. I needed to take the chance that I could if I ever wanted to make enough money to take care of Serena and the baby away from her father’s estate.

  “I want to fight more, and I was hoping you’d be able to find me some matches.” I stopped and then added, “And I wouldn’t want the boss to know about it. This would be between you and me.”

  He stared at me for a moment like he didn’t understand the words I’d said, and then he slowly leaned back in his chair. When he knew it wouldn’t throw him off, he answered, “Didn’t you just hear me? Robert Erickson controls the fight circuit here. No if, ands, or buts about it. And don’t even get me started on the between you and me business. If he found out I was arranging fights on my own for you, he’d have my head.”

  I understood Floyd’s fear of Robert, but I couldn’t let that stand in my way. I needed to convince him if I ever wanted to make enough money.

  “There’s got to be somewhere else I can fight, Floyd. You know about the fight scene for a hundred miles each way. There’s got to be something. I need to make money and a lot of it. You’d be making out on the deal too, though.”

  He sighed and blew the air out of his lungs slowly. “This has to do with that girl, doesn’t it? Erickson’s daughter. Jesus H. Christ, Ryder, do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

  I knew all too well what I’d gotten myself into, good and bad. Nodding, I tried to get Floyd to focus on the fighting and leave the rest of it to me.

  “I can travel. You say where and I’ll be there. Come on. You know people. I know you do. And they can’t all have Erickson’s hand around their throats.”

  “Why don’t you just ask your girlfriend for the money? As his daughter, she’s got to be able to get her hands on all the money you two could need. She probably has a trust fund or something like that. All rich kids do, don’t they?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “No, she can’t. It’s got to be me.”

  Floyd smoothed his greasy comb-over against his head and sighed again. “I might be able to make some calls. I don’t know. I can’t promise anything. It would be a pretty far haul, though, because you’d have to get beyond the long arm of Robert Erickson, and that’s no easy task.”

  His reference to the long arm of Robert made me smile. At one time, that’s how I thought of myself as I acted like the muscle to enforce his demands on all those people I threatened for him.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re smiling about, son. This has disaster written all over it. What do you plan to do when he finds out? Because it’s not an if situation but a when thing. He will find out, and when he does, God help you. I know what he’ll do to me, but he seems to have a special place in his heart for you and when you do this, you’re betraying him. I just want you to be honest with yourself.”

  Nodding, I knew he was trying to look out for me, but that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was finding enough money to get Serena, the baby, and me away from her father. Whatever I had to risk meant nothing.

  “It’ll be fine, Floyd. Just find me some fights, okay? I’ll make it worth your while, and I promise if anything happens and he finds out, I’ll take the blame. I won’t even mention you.”

  Floyd rolled his eyes. “Like he won’t know. He’s not stupid, son.”

  I walked around him and the possessed chair to find a sheet of paper and pen in the desk to write down the number of the phone Serena and I used back when she lived with Oliver. Handing it to him, I said, “Call me at this number only. Nobody knows about this one. As long as it’s not on a night when I’m fighting for him, I’ll be there wherever I have to go.”

  He scanned the number and then looked up at me with concern in his eyes. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Ryder? I mean, she’s beautiful. I get it. And she’s crazy in love with you. That’s clear. But she’s Robert Erickson’s daughter.”

  “I have to do this. Just help me, okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know. Take care of yourself, son.”

  I shook his hand and before I turned to leave, I said, “Thanks, Floyd. I won’t forget this.”

  He chuckled and rolled his eyes again. “Let’s hope the two of us live long enough to forget all of this.”

  * * *

  With my new job fighting for Robert again, I didn’t know if that meant I got a reprieve from having to check in with him each morning. I hadn’t before I left to meet with Floyd, and by the time I got back to the estate it was nearly one in the afternoon. Dreading having to talk to Robert but unsure if I didn’t that something worse would happen, I walked to his office and hoped I’d find it empty.

  Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on my side and I saw him sitting at his desk staring vacantly at his laptop. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for anything he could throw at me and knocked on his door.

  He looked over toward me with that same blank expression he’d worn while he stared at his computer, and for a few moments, he said nothing. Finally, he waved me in and said, “Just the man I want to see today.”

  I couldn’t help but think that was a complete lie. After the fight last night, he’d been less than thrilled, probably because he put a nice chunk of money down on a bet against me. Part of me liked the idea of him losing big like that, but another part knew I’d end up paying for it in the end.

  Taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, I worked to remain calm and look as casual as possible. Not that any of that mattered much. Whatever he felt toward me wasn’t going to change just because I looked relaxed in front of him. It very well might make him all the more eager to torment me.

  As long it was just me he wanted to torture, I could handle it.

  “So how about that fight last night? I don’t know, son. You have the magic touch, it seems, even after all this time,” he said as his mouth spread into that all-too-familiar and terrifying crocodile grin.

  My mind hurriedly wavered between cockiness and humility in the answer I had to give. I wanted to brag because I’d won a fight against the guy he put me up against after two years away from that world and three short weeks of training. I should have been able to brag, but something told me humility might be a better route with Robert now.

  “I don’t know about the magic touch,” I said, not even convincing myself with that. “He gave me a good run for my money, but I guess I was just luckier than he was last night.”

  Robert’s smile faded, and he squinted angrily across the desk at me. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, son. I don’t believe this humble pie act for one second. That fighter I met that night who was cocky as all hell is really the person you are, so don’t bother to pretend you’re someone else for me. I know better.”

  I shrugged, still unsure what he wanted from me. “Well, it wasn’t an easy fight, and that’s not being anything but truthful. He kicked my ass around that ring for a long time before I got the best of him.”

  Pursing his lips, he tilted his head left and right. “Now tha
t we can agree on. He certainly did have your number for a majority of the fight. I’m afraid Serena didn’t take you getting beaten up as well as I had hoped. She always was a bit delicate.”

  The idea of Serena as delicate almost made me laugh out loud. He had no idea how strong she could be when she wanted to. I would have thought her having me take care of Oliver after what he did to her proof of her strength, but Robert seemed to have forgotten that already.

  “The Pit is no place for someone like her. I hope we can agree on that,” I said and stared directly into his dark eyes to let him know I didn’t appreciate what he’d done with that stunt bringing her there. That it hadn’t worked was beside the point.

  He remained silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on mine, and then as if none of what we’d just said interested him, he announced, “I intend on having you fight from now on. I wasn’t sure of my decision until last night, but after watching you, I think your talents are best served with fighting.”

  If he thought what he said should bother me, he had underestimated me and overestimated how much I liked working for him as his muscle. At least when I fought I could respect myself. It wasn’t the best thing for me, but it was a hell of a lot better than threatening people on a daily basis.

  That shit sucked the soul of me.

  “Okay. When’s the next one scheduled for?” I asked and enjoyed the look of surprise as it came over his face.

  Had he expected me to be afraid or worried when he said I had to go back to fighting? He had no idea.

  “I don’t know yet. I have to say that I’m a little shocked you aren’t fighting me on this. I thought you’d be unhappy going back to that life.”

  I shook my head and shrugged. “No. Like you said, fighting is where my talents lie. Why should I pretend that’s not true? God gives each one of us a talent. Mine just happens to be beating the hell out of people in the ring. Now if you told me I had to go back to living in that warehouse, I’d be unhappy. That part of the life I wouldn’t want. But the fighting? It’s who I am, I guess.”