Last Round
***
Double Play Series
Nicole Rodrigues
Table of Contents
Last Round
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Last Round
I'm Alessandra Thompson and I made a mistake. One stupid mistake that snowballed into six terrible years of my life that I can never get back. The only shining moment is my two-year-old son, Peter. After crazy circumstances, I got a second chance, moving Peter and I away from the destruction in Florida to a small town in Louisiana. I know my past won't stay there, but when it comes for me this time, I'll be ready. What I wasn't ready for was Miguel Jameson. His kindness for letting Peter and I stay with him, keeping us safe while the chaos settles, restarts my cold heart. The dangers outside can't touch me when we're in Miguel's care, but what about the dangers inside? The predatory look in those captivating green eyes might be my biggest downfall of all.
***
New house guests? Fine. Keeping them safe? Not a big deal. Keeping my hands off Alessandra Thompson? Fucking miserable. I'm incapable of giving my heart to anyone, especially a woman as broken as her. We'll destroy each other before we even get off the ground. When she starts to develop a strut to her walk, her back straight, her head held high, her eyes, the baby blue shining with a newfound determination, I can't stop it. She's getting stronger every day and I'm getting weaker. She's got me on my knees, and I don't plan on getting up...ever.
Acknowledgements
First, I would like to thank my family. My husband for continuing to push me, still believing in me and helping me with all my covers!
My readers. Thank you for taking a chance on this new author, reviewing my books, sharing the love, my cover reveals, my release days, making amazing bookstagram posts, EVERYTHING! You are truly the reason I do this!
Thank you to my Double Play promo team! Your support and love for my characters is unreal! Always helping out with promos, leaving reviews, pimping me out like no other bookstagrammers out there!
Thank you to the amazing writing community. I have met so many amazing authors with incredible talent and such kind hearts. Not only do they help me become a better writer, but their support as readers is amazing. I will forever be grateful for you badass women!
Hope y’all are ready for the end of an era! It has been such an honor bringing these characters to life and I will be super sad to say goodbye to them...for now.
Happy Reading!
You are not alone.
You are strong.
You are loved, always.
Prologue
Alessandra
I slip my silk robe off my body and hang it inside my locker. Another night of debauchery, another night closer to being free of this life. I'm so close.
I fidget with the bow in the front of my corset, taking a deep breath before exiting the room. The music, the bass thumping through my body, causes me to stop and close my eyes, putting a hand on the wall to steady me. I swallow the bile rising in my throat, compose myself and walk out.
I look at my section and see two men. One is passed out, the other almost there. Please, please make this quick. I walk over, steady on my heels, practiced.
I eye the man passed out and poke his chest. He doesn't move. Lifting his sleeves, I check his arms--no marks. I place my finger on his neck, feeling a slow pulse and look around, my gaze landing on the other man.
“What happened to him?” I ask with concern.
“A little too much to drink. You wanna ride, sweetie?” he smirks, unzipping his jeans.
I close my eyes again and flinch when I feel a hand on my back.
“Sit on him,” says the hard voice from behind me.
“W-what?” I stutter.
“Sit on this one's lap. Take off your top.”
“I...he's unconscious.”
“I know he is, Alessandra.”
My blood runs cold at him using my real name and I nod slowly, straddling this unconscious man, and reach behind me to unfasten the clasps to my top. How he knows my name is a mystery, but my mind tells me he's one of them.
“Let me,” says the man.
I take my hands back, placing them on the chest of the man in front of me, studying his face. He's handsome. His dark blonde hair is styled neatly to the side and his face is peaceful. I can't help but notice his size. This man is huge. How could a man as big as this have gotten so drunk this early?
I feel the first clasp loosen and try to keep my breathing steady. You would think I would be used to this by now, but I'm not. Every single night, I fucking hate it. The bile permanently lodged in my throat, the disgust and filth I feel leaving this place every night. Hours of scrubbing myself clean when I get home never puts me at ease. I'll never be at ease until this is over.
“I'm going to take a picture of you on top of him. Put his hands on your hips and don't move.”
“I don't feel comfortable having my face and breasts in a--”
“They won't be, but just to ease your mind, how does $100,000 sound?”
My mouth falls open as does my top. I try to respond, but no words come. This is it. My out, but at what cost? I could start a new life, but this must be wrong. Why would this man want a picture like this and for so much money? He must take my silence for hesitancy because his next words were meant for me to make up my mind.
“Or I can bring your son here and kill him in front of you.”
I close my eyes, swallowing past fear and anger. I want to turn around and rip this man's heart out just for mentioning my baby boy.
“What makes you think I won't try and find you, have you killed? He's a baby, he's my son!” I growl.
“Good point. How about I cut out your tongue and hands, make you suffer through life with a terrible burden you could have avoided if you just did a simple thing like sit on this man.”
“Fine,” I snap, my voice harsh.
He grabs my throat, his lips touching my ear.
“Know your place, Alessandra, or I'll take the pictures, kill you and your son and burn that $100,000 with your fucking bodies.”
I clench my fists on the shirt of the man in front of me, silently nodding, submissively like I've been taught these past years. A body, that's all I am.
“Good girl.”
He releases his hand from my neck and sits down next to me, putting the unconscious man's hands on my hips. His hands are rough, calloused and I wonder what line of work he's in for them to get like this. His face is soft though, kind. I didn't notice a ring so hopefully he isn't married. Hopefully this stupid picture doesn't ruin his life. He has no idea and that crushes me, but not as much as the weight of someone hurting my son.
I see the man lean back, snapping pictures and then he leans forward, making sure my eyes are on his. I recognize him, he's been here a few times but never with me.
“You tell a soul about this and I
follow through with my earlier threat, understood?”
I nod my head, turning back to face the man I'm sitting on top of.
“When you're done with them, why don't you hop over here, sweetie,” says the man from before, next to us on the other side.
His smile is disgusting and piggish and I want to tell him no. I have enough money now to get the fuck out of Florida and leave all this behind. I never have to be at the mercy of a man again, but I can't. Refusal is forbidden, especially by me. Abuse is the only way out, but only from outsiders. His men are allowed to do whatever they want with me but not this guy, he's not one of them. In a sick, twisted way I wish he were getting rough with me right now. He'd get kicked out and end my misery but no, Mr. Frat boy isn't threatening me, so when the stranger whispers in my ear that the money is in my locker, I get off the unconscious man's lap and move over to the other.
“I'm Lance. I've watched you a few times here and always wanted a taste. Tonight must be my lucky night.”
I struggle to sit on his lap after he reaches for the button of his jeans, knowing that it won't be long until this is all over.
---
I glance around to my booth on the way out and notice it's empty. I didn't see the unconscious man leave, but someone must have taken him home.
I walk out to the street, hailing a cab before someone's hand on my wrist stops me.
“Just reminding you. Two more weeks until the next payment, Alessandra.”
I turn around, furrowing my brows, my body going cold at his touch, but I mask it.
“When have I ever needed a calendar check in?”
“When have I ever let you raise your voice to me without punishment?” says the devil.
I stubbornly shiver at the reminder, but the weight on my shoulder gives me strength.
“I have an advance. All of it. we're done,“ I say taking the duffel bag of cash off my shoulder and handing it to him.
“Oh?” he says arching a brow.
He glances inside, rummaging through the money.
“Where the fuck did you get this?” he asks.
“It was a good night. It's been great working with you, but I can't say I'll miss it.”
I turn to get in the cab and his grip tightens around my bicep.
“My son may be a weak man, Alessandra, but don't make the mistake of thinking that I am. This arrangement isn't over yet.”
“It was your men then, the ones who made me take that picture? Why the hell would you set me up like that? You haven't put me through enough?” I snap.
His hand connects with my cheek and I stumble against the taxi.
“Raise your voice again, Alessandra, please. You know what the fight does to me,” he seethes.
I rub at the spot and keep my mouth shut, just like he's taught me.
“What more do you want? Every penny I have goes to you. I was tricked into all of this. I shouldn't be paying for Frankie’s mistake, I'm the one raising Peter on my own!”
“Pity isn't a good look for you, Alessandra. Remember, I saved you. Double what you have in this bag and I will finally let you go.”
“Another $100,000? That's impossible!”
“You did it tonight. Maybe you just need to work a little harder.”
I grit my teeth knowing exactly what he means. Out of all the girls in that club, I'm known for giving it up the least. I take my time with our clients so there aren't as many. Some of the other women go for quantity, I go for sanity. I make the bare minimum every night because I need to keep some semblance of myself. If I lost myself, I would succumb again and I can't do that, not this time. Peter needs me.
“I'll figure it out,” I grumble.
“Good girl.”
His smile is cynical as he moves forward and presses me against the taxi and I shudder as his lips press against the corner of my own. He draws back, running a finger down my cheek, down my neck between the valley of my breasts and moans. It takes all of me not to flinch and pull away from his disgusting hands. He taught me well though, I don't move a muscle.
“Tell my grandson hello for me. He's growing up so fast.”
I close my eyes and silently nod as he backs away and walks down the street. I let out a sigh of relief but the shame and humiliation tackles me. I refuse to cry as I get into the taxi, back home to my son. A son that thank God, takes after me in every way possible. He has no qualities that resemble that evil man and his waste of a life son. Almost there, Alessandra, one day at a time, for Peter.
Chapter 1
Alessandra
Two months later…
I walk into a boxing studio, Peter on my hip and Nicholas Johnson, the unconscious man from a couple months ago at the club, on my left. My guardian angel. Frankie and his father in my rear-view mirror, a fresh start here in Louisiana.
Nico took Peter and me in for the week he was there, helped me pay off my debt to Marco, in exchange for information from that night. Now, we're here in Louisiana. Marco wasn't happy, but my debt was paid. That was the deal and as horrible of a person he is, his only redeeming quality may be his ability to keep a promise. I'm sure it won't be the last time I hear from him though, a part of him believes he owns me.
He took me in and helped me during the lowest point in my life, little did I know what that help would cost. If I did, I would have never taken it. If he does come for me though, this time I'll be stronger. The weak Alessandra was left in that club in Miami and if Marco comes for me here, he won't find the same woman.
“Miguel, this is Alessandra and Peter,” Nico says from next to me breaking me out of my thoughts.
A dark-haired man turns around, Nico's friend and somehow family has offered to let me and Peter stay, to protect us in case that man that took the pictures tries to make good on his threat. Why are men such a damn problem in my life? They still haven't figured out who it was, so Peter and I will be looked after by Miguel until they do.
Miguel approaches, his skin is tan and his cut biceps glisten with tribal tattoos as he takes off boxing gloves. His hair is a sweaty mess, strewn about without a care and his smile throws me off guard. It's a small smile, a sly smirk with one dimple on the right side of his face. His eyes though, his eyes a shade of green that hypnotizes me. Jesus Christ. I haven't had a reaction to a man like this in years, maybe ever.
“Nice to meet you and sorry for my appearance. I would shake your hand but I'm a little wet,” he says, his voice husky.
“I...I'm wet too, it's okay,” I stutter.
Miguel's eyebrows raise and I shut my eyes shaking my head.
“I didn't...I meant...Peter...I'm sweaty from holding Peter I…”
Miguel smirks and nods for us to follow him and I exhale, trying to get myself under control. Great first impression, Alessandra, just great.
“My apartment is above the studio. It's got three bedrooms so you and Peter can have your space.”
“Okay, this is where I leave you,” Nico says putting our luggage on the bottom of the stairs. “I have to get going to therapy. You're in good hands, okay?” Nico says putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Thank you, Nico. You don't know how grateful I am for you,” I whisper.
He nods and turns, leaving Peter and me alone with Miguel. I reach for one of the luggage cases, but Miguel is there first, our hands touching causes a straight shock and I pull back.
“Sorry,” we both say at the same time.
“I've got it, you've got your hands full with the baby.”
“Thank you.”
He flashes me a smile and grabs our luggage. He lifts them, his muscles flexing as he climbs the stairs. I can't help but focus on his calves, the vein along the back that is bulging out as he takes each step.
“So, you excited to be in Louisiana? It's a great place to live. Great place to raise a kid,” Miguel says turning around.
I snap my gaze back up to his face but not before he smirks at catching me ogling him.
“Yep! Really excited
,” I say my voice higher than normal.
“Home sweet home,” Miguel says opening the door to his apartment. “Unfortunately, there's only one bathroom. I'm usually pretty quick though, I shower in the mornin’ after my workout.”
“That's fine, I'm a night showerer and I usually bathe Peter right after dinner so…”
“Perfect! Look at us, makin' this work already,” Miguel says with a smile.
I smile too and then nod towards a sleeping Peter on my chest.
“I'm gonna put him in for a nap, he's had a long week.”
Miguel nods and opens one of the bedroom doors and drops our luggage inside.
Last Round (Double Play Series Book 6) Page 1
