by Lane Hart
Dammit, I’ll fight for the fucker if I have to, save up my money until I have enough to disappear with Gabby and our new identities. Leaving is still risky with the contacts Mario has, but so is staying here.
“No one touches her?” I ask for clarification.
“No one will touch her, not even me unless she asks for it,” he replies with a smug grin.
Gabby won’t ever fucking ask him for it.
“So if I fight, that’s it? I don’t owe you any more money for either of us, and I still earn the winner’s purses?”
“You’ll earn half of what the other fighters earn. If you fight and if you win for the next three years, then yes, that’s all I’ll require. I’ll even let Gabby out nearly a year early.”
Right, I knew there had to be another catch. Otherwise, I would say to hell with it and lose every fight, just like Ivan always does. And three fucking years seems like a lifetime.
“What if I lose?” I ask, since no matter how much I train or how good I am, someone else will eventually be better.
“That’s the price of making a deal with the devil,” he replies with a grin. “I’m a man of my word. But if you lose, Gabby takes it all off on stage, and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop it. As much as I love my fighters and the stacks of money they make me, I’m hoping you lose. Because the first night she goes up, she’s mine,” he declares. “But don’t worry. I don’t have to force myself on my girls. They willingly spread their legs for me because they’re usually desperate for something, and I always give them whatever it is they need. Gabby won’t be any different…”
“I won’t fucking lose, and she won’t ever need a goddamn thing from you,” I assure him through clenched teeth, my hands balled up at my sides. Hands that are gonna be so fucked up soon that I’ll barely be able to pick up a pencil, much less a tattoo gun. I’ve trained as they required for the last few years but kept my fists as protected as possible with gloves and by concentrating on cardio. Now I’ll have no choice but to damage them.
“Three years, win all your fights, and you’ll both be free in no time,” Mario says with a smirk.
Fucking Robbie. He’s always been a shit brother, but I can’t believe he would put Mario up to this. How else did Mario know how close I am to Gabby unless Robbie ran his mouth?
With one fell swoop, there go all my dreams right down the shitter. I’ll have to use my fists to make a living, live in a nasty dorm with a dozen other men, and I have no fucking idea what Gabby will do when she turns eighteen and gets kicked out of the house.
Then, I suddenly have an idea. I may be pushing my luck but I have to try, for Gabby’s sake. She’ll need a safe place to live in a few months, and I want to make sure I can take care of her. Fighters live together to train and keep their dicks in their pants until after wins.
“One last thing,” I say when Mario turns to walk out the door. “If I agree to do this, will you at least let me, Ivan, and Knox get our own place near the gym?” I leave out Gabby’s name for now.
“No.”
“Come on, man. Please. I’ll do anything,” I beg.
“Do you really think you three can actually adhere to the rules on your own?” Mario asks.
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation because I’ll make my boys stay in line, eating healthy, no drinking, no sex, whatever it takes to get out from underneath constant supervision for the first time in our lives all while giving Gabby a safe place to live in a few months.
“Tell me you’ll win for me and I’ll check our properties to see if we have any three-bedroom units available near the gym. If so, I’ll give you a good deal,” he thankfully agrees. “But you better keep Knox’s dick away from pussy. He’s already been caught twice breaking that rule.”
“I will win and I’ll keep Knox in line. Thanks for letting us do this. I know you don’t ever bend the rules for fighters so I really appreciate it,” I tell him even though the words of gratitude burn my throat like acid.
Mario may be a ruthless asshole, but I would’ve died on the street or been arrested and thrown in prison when I was fourteen without what Scarfone offered. I know the same goes for Knox and Ivan, so, for now, we’ll all fucking fight for the assholes.
After Mario walks out, I barely refrain from smashing my fist into the wall. Instead, I save it for the cage and go find Domino to tell him there’s unfortunately been a change of plans.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times bestselling author Lane Hart was born and raised in North Carolina. She continues to live in the south with her husband, two daughters, and several pets named after Star Wars characters.
When Lane's not writing or reading sexy novels, she can be found in the summer on the beaches of the east coast, and in the fall watching football, cheering on the Carolina Panthers.
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