Slow Dancing (The Second Chances Series Book 4)

by Isobelle Cate

  “That’s my seat, bitch.”

  Bethany reared back like she’d been slapped. Fear immobilised her before her pulse started skipping.

  Never again.

  “My friend paid for this seat.” She snapped. The conversations around them dimmed as the rest of the audience became more interested in what was happening nearby.

  “Move out of the way…bitch!”

  “Don’t get out of your seat, Bethany.”

  Bethany craned her neck to see the person speaking to her. The three men spun around.

  “Oliver…” Bethany whispered, relieved. There were two other men with him. One looked Eastern European with huge muscles and tattoos. The other man looked familiar. Broad shouldered and also muscular, his icy glare was directed at her three would be bullies. Bethany wracked her brains trying to remember where she had seen him but couldn’t place him.

  She gasped and watched with bated breath when the man shoved Oliver backward. Oliver stepped back but didn’t fall.

  “She’s in my seat because I say so!”

  “She’s in that seat because I paid for it and you didn’t.” Oliver replied quietly. He looked calm and composed, the ticking muscle in his jaw the only sign of his anger. He placed his arm around the man. “C’mon I’ll find you and your mates other seats.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you arwwwwww…” The man suddenly fell unconscious to the ground. Oliver removed his fingers from the side of the man’s neck and straightened. Those around them were agog.

  “Now if you boys would like to go the same way, my friends behind you are happy to oblige.” Oliver brushed his hands together, his eyes wide with emphasis.

  The two men ran away, leaving their friend behind. The Eastern European and his companion bent down and dragged the unconscious man away.

  “You okay?” Oliver spoke into her ear and looked at her in concern. The conversations of the spectators resumed once more.

  “I am now.” She let out a nervous laugh. “Did you know which seat the ticket had?”

  He shook his head. “Chaps bought it and gave it to me.”

  “Then how did you know which place to look?”

  “There’s always been a detail following you.”

  “Detail?” she asked in confusion. “What detail?”

  “Why do you think Drake knew where you were?”

  “Drake told me that. That’s why he found me. How long has this been going on?” She stared at him with incredulity.

  “Only after you suddenly bailed after encountering Andrew Tabler in Clique.” He paused. “It’s what Drake would have wanted when you disappeared. He was going out of his mind with worry.”

  Bethany’s gazed at a point by Oliver’s ear, her cheeks burning.

  “Lissie came to see me at the club.” She glanced back at him. “Told me about what was happening to Drake. Though I did tell her also that I didn’t know how my presence was going to help.”

  Oliver pursed his lips as he nodded. “He’s doing this because he believes he’s lost you. That you don’t want him back that’s why he’s killing himself booking fights left and right. Is that true?”

  Bethany let out an exasperated huff. “He left me, Oliver. It wasn’t the other way around. I told him the truth and he didn’t listen.”

  “He did Bethany. He listened.” Oliver’s grin was sardonic. “You can’t expect someone to recover so easily after the bombs you dropped.”

  Her heart sank. “You know about that too?”

  Oliver pursed his lips in regret. “Nature of the job but I can tell you it wasn’t intentional. I didn’t expect to find intel on you. Your name just happened to crop up when my team started looking at Andrew Tabler’s past.”

  Suddenly the crowd rose from their seats. Bethany felt as though she and Oliver were in a field full of tall thick grass moving violently.

  “Aiden will be here to keep you company.” Oliver shouted above the din while pointing to one of the two men behind her seat. Bethany angled her head so that her ear with her hearing aid could get what Oliver was saying.

  The man with the familiar face stepped forward. His eyes twinkled with humour and appreciation. That was it!

  Bethan pointed at him.

  “Newcastle.”

  Aiden groaned slapping his forehead.

  Oliver smirked. “Losing your touch, Kane.” Then at Bethany. “You weren’t meant to notice him.”

  Oliver’s attempt to lighten the mood worked. Bethany’s mouth curved upward.

  “Help Drake, Bethany. I know that he still loves you. I believe you feel the same way.”

  Bethany looked away, her pulse thundering in her ears.

  Oliver’s face cleared. “He just doesn’t know how to get you back.”

  Bethany worried her bottom lip. She wanted to salvage whatever she and Drake had. Not having him in her life for the last four months was like losing a piece of herself. The colours of her world were dull. The sounds, muffled and discordant. But she didn’t know how to go about it in the first place.

  “Talk to him after the bout.”

  “Can’t you talk him out of it?” She watched Oliver’s lips.

  Oliver shook his head. “Afraid not. If he doesn’t fight, he forfeits all that he’d worked hard for. Whatever he wins in this fight is going to his fighters’ pensions. That’s all he’s focusing on to keep sane.”

  “How will I find him after?” She angled her better ear once more.

  “Aiden will bring you back stage.” Oliver answered. “I’m going to stay with Drake.”

  “Okay,” she shouted when another wave of applause and shouting passed through them. “I’ll be here.”

  “Thank you.” Oliver squeezed her arm in reassurance before he was swallowed by the crowd.

  Bethany looked at Aiden.

  “Are you going to stand there? Or are you allowed to sit beside me?”

  Aiden’s smile widened showing perfect white teeth. “My seat’s just behind you.”

  She nodded and sat down the same time she exhaled. All of a sudden the light around them dimmed and the lights aimed at the cage brightened. Everyone jumped to their feet. The roar of the crowd was deafening and she was pulled into the euphoria of the impending fight. The fighters came out of the curtained enclosure. The crowd went ballistic. Bethany stood, craning her neck so she could see between the heads that blocked her vision. The emcee announced the fighters. She gasped.

  Drake’s face was fiercer, harsher. He glared at his opponent like he was hell bent on ending the guy’s life. The klieg lights about him showed every cut and plane of his well-tone body. He looked like a statue hewn from expensive wood, smooth and sharp at the same time. Her body woke knowing that the man who owned her was nearby. Still, Bethany’s heart sank at the dead coldness in his eyes. The same eyes that warmed with amber fire when they had reached ecstasy together. She saw the tatt of her name on his left pectoral. Pain lanced through her chest bringing back the huge ball of guilt inside her heart.

  Drake was painfully beautiful.

  How could she get through that?

  Drake and his opponent were dressed only in their shorts. At the referee’s signal they bumped fists and circled each other in earnest.

  Bethany watched Drake with bated breath. Watched his eyes focus, looking for a way to catch his opponent unaware. In less than a blink, his opponent’s hand shot forward, catching Drake straight in the eye. Bethany’s hands shot up to cover her mouth. Drake staggered back but crouched in an instant to tackle his opponent around the waist, pushing them both forward. But after three steps the opponent dug in. No longer moving, Drake’s leg suddenly swiped his opponent’s leg and pinned him down. The crowd roared in approval. Others heckled and jeered. The referee watched and waited. Drake was on top, his opponent had his legs around Drake’s waist while he covered his face with his arms.

  “Drake…” Bethany couldn’t stop saying his name.

  Drake started punching his opponent’s ar
ms, the thighs around his waist. On the ribs. The legs loosened allowing Drake to roll away.

  They stood circling each other again until Drake charged at his opponent, pushing him against the cage and started hitting him. The crowd went wild. Drake took two steps back and jammed his foot squarely against his opponent’s chest. His opponent doubled. Drake tackled him back to the floor and held him in a vice while using one hand to deliver punches to his opponent’s face. But his opponent was able to get the upper hand and brought a jab up to Drake’s chin.

  Drake fell back and the tables turned. Now Drake was under his opponent.

  Bethany screamed, her voice drowning under the power of the crowd.

  Drake covered his face with his arms, taking blow after blow.

  “Stand up, Goddammit! Stand up!” she screamed.

  Suddenly Drake stopped the fist coming at him and pushed his opponent’s arm back and at the same time rolling them both. He was back on top. He punched his opponent’s face from the side. Then another. And another.

  The crowd screamed.

  The bell rang.

  The referee pulled Drake away from his opponent who rolled slowly on the mat before trying to sit up. Drake kept on going around the octagon, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs. From Bethany’s vantage point, she saw the rim around his eye becoming an angry red bruise and blood dripping from his nose and cut lip. His body shone under the lights and sweat dripped down his chin on to the mat.

  The referee stood and declared Drake the winner.

  Pandemonium filled the warehouse. Bethany could hardly hear herself think despite her heart leaping at Drake’s victory.

  Drake looked at his opponent’s bloodied face. His face hardened. Still he embraced his opponent, patting his back before stepping back, staggering towards the side of the cage.

  Instinctively, Bethany got out of her seat and ran to the cage just as Miles rushed to Drake’s side. Miles produced a stool for Drake to sit on.

  Shit.

  Bethany couldn’t get through. A crowd had gathered to where Drake was.

  “Excuse me…” No one listened to her. She was jostled aside. “Please…”

  Still no one gave way until Aiden arrived. He gripped Bethany’s arm and shoved the bodies in front of them.

  “Hey arsehole!”

  “Move away.” He placed his face so close to the man in the crowd that they were nose to nose. He glared. “Don’t tempt me to haul your arse inside the ring and do a round with you.”

  The crowd backed away.

  “Thought so.” Aiden smirked before winking at Bethany. “Go.”

  Bethany squeezed his hand in gratitude and rushed through the space watching Miles wipe Drake’s face and put liniment roughly around his eye. Her eyes watched Mile’s lips, straining to read what she couldn’t hear.

  “Don’t look at the blood,” Miles snapped. “Look at me. You won. That’s all that matters.”

  “Nothing matters, coach.” Bethany watched Drake’s lips. “Not this fucking fight. I’ve lost her.”

  “Snap out of it, Drake, you hear me?” Miles shouted in Drake’s face. “You’re not a quitter. You’ll find a way.”

  “Bloody hell, Coach! Stop the pick me up bullshit. She’s not coming back!”

  “I am!” Bethany reached them. “I’m here!”

  Miles looked up in shock before a grin spread.

  Drake sat still, not acknowledging her.

  “Drake, I’m really here.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Drake refused to move, afraid that if he did, Bethany’s voice would disappear. Even Miles looked like he was smiling.

  “What the hell are you smiling about?” he groused.

  Miles chuckled. “Maybe if you took out your sorry head out of your arse, you’ll see why. Good to see you again, Bethany.”

  This is a dream. This is a dream.

  “Same here, Coach. Drake, baby. Please.”

  His shoulders slumped as he exhaled. The pain he subjected his body to was nothing compared to the crippling torment that now defined his life. Could he still take more punishment? Hell, he was turning to a masochist all because he couldn’t get Bethany out of his system. But he couldn’t stop himself from turning, even if it meant that the moment he saw her, she’d disappear.

  So he turned and stared at the most precious and most beautiful woman to grace his life. He was a man looking at a mirage. He knelt towards Bethany, searching those sapphire blue eyes brimming with tears.

  “Bee?”

  “It’s me. Look at me, baby. Don’t look at the blood. I’m here. I’m not going away.”

  Electricity shot through his veins the moment Bethany’s fingers closed over his through the fiber netting. All his heart wanted to do was to soak up Bethany’s tears and immerse himself in her.

  The crowd noise had lowered as they filed out of the area as Jessie Ware’s Wildest Moments filtered through the speakers.

  “Drake, we have to go.” Miles placed his hand.

  “No Coach.”

  “Rosen, Bethany will follow.” Oliver appeared from the opposite side to where Bethany was. “Go.”

  Miles dragged him away. All the while, Drake kept his eyes on Bethany afraid that she’d disappear if he so much as watched where he was going.

  He stumbled.

  “Goddammit, Drake! Pull yourself together!” Miles groused. “She’s not going to disappear.”

  Drake watched Oliver, Aiden, and Vincent flank Bethany as they made their way towards the fighters’ area from the side door. He strode through the opened curtain ignoring the people waiting to speak to him and leaving Miles to deal with them. The door to his room was open. Bethany was already there.

  Sweet Jesus, she was still beautiful. His sunshine and moonlight. The only woman his heart adored. The woman whose mere presence healed his tormented soul.

  “Leave.”

  Oliver’s mouth twitched and nudged his head towards his men. Drake turned around.

  “Oliver.”

  “Yeah?”

  He attempted to smile. “Thank you.”

  Oliver smirked. “Don’t blow it Rosen.”

  Miles had just arrived just as Oliver closed the door.

  The muffled sounds outside diminished like some remote control turning the volume off.

  He kept his eyes on Bethany, watched her wring her hands in nervousness.

  “Hi.” She gave him a tentative smile.

  “Hey.” Shit his lip stung.

  “So…you won,” she said. She walked to the table, just to Drake’s right, which held the rest of his first aid kit. Drake didn’t take his eyes off her.

  Bethany tore a packet of sterile gauze before slowly moving towards him.

  “May I?”

  Drake swallowed, suddenly tongue tied. He jerked his head in a nod.

  He drank in her face so close to his, smelled her sweet perfume that wrapped around him enough to heal the aches and pains encroaching into his body. He was willing to stay and not flinch at her gentle dabs on his wounds just to be close to her. Drake watched concentration fill Bethany’s eyes, her brow creasing with worry in case she hurt him.

  “You’re not hurting me,” he said softly.

  She stilled but only just before she started again but this time her eyes were filling up with tears.

  “Ahh shit, Bee. That’s not what I meant.” He couldn’t bear it. He fell on his knees and embraced her, his head on her belly. “I’m so sorry, Bethany. I’m so sorry.”

  He held her tight and shuddered when his eyes watered.

  “I’m sorry too, Drake. So sorry I don’t know how to undo the pain I’ve caused you.”

  Drake looked up, his heart crushed again at Bethany’s sorrow. She knelt down with him, embracing him and making him smile because she was holding him so tight his sore ribs protested.

  It was the best embrace he’d ever received.

  “I’m all sweaty.”

  “I don’t care.” B
ethany buried her face against his neck.

  Drake chuckled. “You’re going to have blood on you.”

  “Pfft…like I’m afraid of blood.” She deadpanned then squealed when he tickled her side.

  They stayed kneeling for a long time. No words were said.

  “Bee?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Don’t ever leave me,” he said softly. He couldn’t swallow through the lump in his throat. “I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it a third time.”

  “I didn’t want to leave you.” She leaned away cupping his face. “But I couldn’t face you knowing you’d hate me because of what happened to me.”

  “Bethany.” He held her face in both his hands and kissed her, finally having her soft lips on his. All coherent thought left as Bethany opened to him. His heart expanded as he felt her love flowing into that one kiss. Drake crushed her in his arms, unable to get enough of touching and holding her. Bethany returned every tug of his lips and every swipe of his tongue. They broke gasping for air.

  “I could never hate you.” He insisted. “If there was anyone who should be hated it would be me because I left you.”

  “You were forced to leave me, Drake. And I could never hate you either. I loved you too much. Hating you was like hating myself. I didn’t want to go down that road.”

  He pressed his forehead against hers. “Bee, I didn’t know what to say. Who the fuck knows what to say in that situation? It was a shock and I stayed out there for a very long time until Aiden helped me back into my car. Until now I don’t even know how I got back to Bridgewater in one piece. I was angry, furious. But the rage I had afterwards was not towards you. It was against Andrew for destroying our lives. All because we didn’t have a right to fit in and because he wanted you.”

  “Oh my God…” The horror on Bethany’s face was something Drake would never forget. He would protect her and love her til his dying day.

  “But when you left me in the quay, when you said goodbye…that really did a number on me”. He paused at the remembered pain. “I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t think I’d get out of that quay alive.”

  He stood, helping Bethany up before he sat on the bench insisting that she sit on his lap. Drake rubbed her back, everywhere he could touch to make sure that Bethany was really there with him.