The minute the door swings open, I release a gasp. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
He arches one of his dark eyebrows, making his icy-blue stare appear a bit menacing. “Random inspection time and by the looks of things, I should’ve done this a long time ago.”
My heart drops into my stomach, and my pulse kicks up a notch.
“Come in and close the door,” he orders.
After I do what he says, I drop my bag onto the kitchen chair, and my head drops.
“How long has Baker been living here?” When I don’t immediately answer him, he commands, “Look at me.”
I lift my head and place my reluctant eyes on his face.
“I’m going to ask again. How long?” This time his voice rings with even more authority.
“A while…” I’ve never been a good liar, but when my father releases a growl after I confirm his suspicions, I want to explain. “It’s not what you think, though. Baker needed a place to stay, and for a while, we were just friends. It wasn’t until recently we became more…” I take a deep breath. “I didn’t want him to be homeless. After the story Mom told me about your childhood—”
“Do not try using my past as a deflection on your wrongdoings! I specially told you when I rented this place for you that there were to be no guys in here, and you intentionally disobeyed me.” He drags his hand through his long dark hair as if to attempt to calm himself. “I want him gone, Sky. He is not to spend another night here.”
My eyes widen. “I’m not going to throw him out.”
“If you want me to continue to pay for this apartment, then you will. Call him and tell him to come here and collect his shit.”
I lift my chin. “No.”
His nostrils flare. “Excuse me? I know you didn’t say no to a direct order I’ve given you.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “I’m not asking him to leave. I love him. If he goes, then I go!”
I’ve never defied my father before, and while I’m trying to be strong on the outside, I’m a jittering bundle of nerves on the inside.
Dad’s jaw muscle flexes beneath his skin as he mulls over the fact I refuse to do as he wants. “You want to be with him in what will most certainly be a shitty life with him chasing a dream to become a boxer, then fine. Stay with him in that reckless lifestyle, but know this—I just paid the rent yesterday, and that will be the last check I write. From here on out, you’re on your own.”
“Dad…” To say I’m shocked is an understatement. In my wildest dreams, I never thought my father would completely cut me off because I fell in love with someone. “Please?”
“You’ve made your choice, Sky. You want to make your own choices in life, I won’t stand in your way, but I refuse to financially support the destruction of your future. Guys like him are bad news, and I won’t stand by and watch my daughter get used by someone who probably has no intention of sticking around for the long haul.”
“How can you say that? You don’t even know him!”
“But I do, Sky. I was like him, and before your mother came along—” He quickly snaps his mouth shut, cutting himself off before he can finish his thought. “Let’s just say I wasn’t the best guy in the world, and I used women. But your mother helped me overcome the things in my past to make me a better person.”
“How do you know I can’t be that person for Baker?” I question, thinking of all we’ve overcome together already and how much he’s already changed since we’ve been officially together.
“Because you’re too young. Neither of you is ready for the commitment it takes to truly be there for another person. Trust me. You need to end this between the two of you before you get hurt and I’m forced to break every bone in his body.”
“Dad, he won’t—”
He holds his hand up and cuts me off again. “We’re done discussing this. You want me to pay for school, rent, and everything else, then you break up with Baker. Once you do that, call me. Until then? I don’t want to hear from you.”
He doesn’t give me an opportunity to argue any further as he turns and stalks out the front door and possibly out of my life forever.
31
Sky
“Tell me again exactly what he said?” Baker asks as he sits down beside me.
I take a deep breath and force myself to repeat what happened when I came home and found my father here in the apartment. After he left, I immediately began to freak out and tried to figure out how in the world I can afford to stay in school without my father’s money.
The first call I made after Dad left was the school’s business office. The office told me because of my family’s income, grants or financial aid were not options for me, but loans were always available to pay for tuition. My heart sank with the idea of incurring all the debt from a major university education, but I would do it to pay for the last two and half years of my bachelor's degree in English if I must. The second call I made was to the rental office. They told me they didn’t care if we stayed in the apartment as long as the rent was paid and the person who signed the contract didn’t mind we were still there. That’s a bit of a gray area because Dad didn’t mention in his rage anything about revoking the lease. But still, how can I manage to pay it when I have no money?
Baker takes my hands in his. “Hey,” he coos, trying to calm me down. “Remember when I told you I would take care of you? That wasn’t bullshit. I meant it. I’ll figure out a way to make sure you have everything you need, and then your dad will see I’m not going anywhere despite what he thinks.”
“I can’t ask you to pay for all this for me. You’re barely making it on your own as it is.” Tears roll down my cheeks.
“I got you,” he whispers. “I’ve got a couple more fights I can take, and that will set us up for a while. I’ll make the calls and get things booked. Everything is going to be all right. We don’t need your dad’s money, just like I don’t need my father’s help. We’ll make our own way.”
The conviction in his voice eases my fears a little, knowing my man’s hands are very capable ones to be in.
Baker
This is the start of a new tradition for Sky and me. After everything with her father, Sky couldn’t bear the idea of facing him again, knowing she is still refusing to break up with me, so I decided we’d have Thanksgiving dinner at our apartment. It’s been fun studying videos and buying all the groceries we’d need for today. It means a lot to me she’s put her faith in my ability to make sure she’s taken care of. I want her to know I can provide for her without question.
The next fight I have lined up is a rematch with Titus at the same venue in Kentucky we fought at before. It does rattle my nerves, knowing I will likely lose this time because last time I lucked out. That won’t happen again, and according to Phineas, Titus has been hitting the gym hard and champing at the bit to have another shot at me. The purse is thirty thousand dollars to the winner and fifteen for the loser. I can’t pass the money up. We need it.
There’s a text on my cell, and I glance at it and then immediately delete it without opening it.
Sky notices and frowns. “Was that Luke again?”
I nod. “Yeah. He won’t get it through his head I will never go back to my father for a damn thing, but holidays especially. My mother loved cooking Thanksgiving dinner, and I’ll be damned if I join my father’s fancy catered shitshow of a meal.”
She pauses for a bit. “Do you think we should invite Luke to our dinner?”
My gaze whips over in her direction, and I’m sure my eyes are a bit crazy. “Why?”
“Well…” She trails off. “Luke wants to smooth things over between the two of you as well as wanting you to make up with your father. Maybe this will be a good start to healing what’s broken between the two of you.”
I quirk one eyebrow. “Don’t you think the three of us alone having dinner will be awkward?”
“Sure. It might be, but we have to start somewhere, right? Luke’s your brother, which means
he’s family to me too.”
“Not yet, technically. That is, not until I can get a ring on your finger.” Her eyes widen, and I laugh. “In two or three years, once we’re finished with school.”
She grins, hopefully loving the thought of spending our forever together and becoming Mrs. Baker Finnegan someday. “You really think we’ll get married?”
I wrap my arms around her and tug her against me. “Of course I do. There’s no other woman on this planet who’s better suited for me than you. You’re it for me Sky—the one as all your sappy romance books refer to it as. So, yeah, when you’re ready, I plan on legally making you mine forever.”
“Sounds like an excellent plan to me.” She grins up at me, and I press my lips to hers.
“Speaking of our future, I booked another fight.” I take a deep breath. “It’s this weekend in Kentucky against Titus.”
All of the color drains from her face. “Baker…no.”
I give her a sad smile. “We need the money, and it’s too much to turn down.” The pad of my thumb feathers across her cheek. “It’ll be fine. I promise. Now let’s get back to fixing our first of many Thanksgiving dinners together for just the two of us.” I give her a pointed look, so she knows the Luke invitation is off the table for now.
SKY
The last time I sat on the front row of this concrete pit, I didn’t know what to expect, but now I do, and I’m freaked the hell out. I begged Baker to call this fight off, remembering how pissed Titus was after their last round, but he refused. He’s so hell-bent on taking care of me, he’s blinded to the fact this man is out for his blood.
“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” Milo says, echoing my own thoughts. “I told him we weren’t ready for this guy. Baker needed more work in the gym before he took on a guy like this again, but he’s a stubborn ass and was dead-set on a rematch. It’s like he’s got a death wish.”
Or he’s unbelievably desperate.
I know he feels at fault for my father cutting me off, but no matter what I said, or how much I explained we could find another way to pay our way through college, I could not talk him out of fighting tonight. Guilt presses down on my chest, and more than anything, all I want to do is grab Baker and run as far from this place as we can get.
The screens with Baker’s stats are all I can fixate on. His odds have gone in his favor a bit more than the last time, but he’s still not favored to win this match. The impeccably dressed men sitting in the high-back leather chairs are busy placing bets and drink orders with the scantily clad female servers.
The soft murmurs in the place go eerily quiet when Phineas steps into the center of the pit. All eyes are on him, eagerly waiting for what he has to say. Same as last time, the man’s blond hair is slicked back tight against his scalp, and the suit he’s wearing tonight is gray trimmed in a dark purple—totally not the kind of suit you see every day. It looks custom and costly.
Phineas brings the microphone to his medically enhanced-looking plump lips. “Hello, friends! I’m happy to have you all here for a special rematch to entertain you once again. Our first fighter, Titus, needs no introduction here in the Concrete Square. We all know he’s a monster, capable of killing men with his bare hands, and let me tell you, friends, since his last encounter with his opponent, he’s been anxiously awaiting the chance to get his title back as our pit champion. So let’s welcome Tiiiiiitus!”
Spotlights shine down on Titus, and rap music plays as he struts into the center of the square. The murderous expression on his face causes me to slink back. I don’t know how it’s possible, but the muscles on every inch of his body seem bigger as they flex and stretch under his dark skin. The light makes his sweaty, bald head shiny as he rocks his head back and forth atop his massive shoulders.
“Hoooleeey fuck,” Milo says beside me. “I forgot how big this motherfucker was.”
“Not helping,” I chirp at him, feeling the same way, but voicing somehow makes it all worse. So I don’t need him saying the obvious.
The music cuts off, and Phineas once again has the floor. “The champion of our square caught a lucky break last time, but he’s back, ready to defend his winning streak and prove it wasn’t a fluke. He is a man who shouldn’t be messed with on the field as well as in a fight. I give you, Baker Finnegan.”
Baker’s entrance music blares through the speakers. Lights shine on Baker as he swings his arms in rhythmic uppercut motions as he makes his way to the center of the floor. The chiseled muscles in his chest flex as do the muscles in his jaw. Not one ounce of fear is displayed on his face as he stands stone-faced and nearly nose to nose with Titus.
“Gentlemen.” Phineas motions for Baker and Titus to step to the middle of the square. “Don’t disappoint me like the last time. No one will continue to pay to see that sort of sloppy fighting. I want to be entertained.”
As soon as he’s finished, the referee takes Phineas’s place. “All right, fellas. Fight clean. We don’t stop fighting until one of you can no longer continue. Got it?” Both fighters quickly jerk their head in a nod. “Touch fists.”
Baker holds his fist out as instructed, but Titus drops his eyes down to Baker’s waiting hand and snarls before taking a step back.
So much for good sportsmanship.
“Let’s fight!” the referee shouts, and immediately Titus and Baker begin circling one another.
Baker bounces on his toes, his fists raised in a fighting stance. Titus jabs first and lands a blow square on Baker’s face, stunning him a bit. Baker shakes his head to refocus and then weaves and lands a quick punch on Titus.
I grab Milo’s hand and squeeze. “Damn, woman. You’re breaking my hand.”
I grimace and release him. “Sorry.”
The two men dance around the ring, landing jab after jab on one another as if to feel each other out. One hit causes Baker to rock back, causing Titus to smell blood in the water and move in for the kill. Titus moves in, closing the gap between them and lands an uppercut followed by a solid right then left hook. The multiple hits cause Baker to fall to his knees, and the referee backs Titus off him. When I see the blood trickle from Baker’s nose and the cut above his left eye, I debate whether to demand the fight be stopped.
“On your feet if you want to continue,” the referee orders, not offering a count to ten at all.
Milo cups his hands around his mouth, and yells, “Come on, Baker. You got this!”
I hold my breath, wishing he would just stay down there and end this torment, but Baker quickly rights himself and jumps to his feet. I don’t know how he took a combination like that and is still able to continue. He’s tougher than even I realized, maybe even a little insane.
Titus wears a sinister smile, and it’s easy to see he’s enjoying the pain he’s inflicting. This match is personal for him, and he’s out for blood to prove he’s the superior fighter.
Titus goes to work on his body, punching Baker in his ribs after Baker blocks a few shots to the face. He continues to concentrate his punches on the ribs, and I swear I can hear the bones snapping.
“Milo, he can’t take much more,” I complain.
“He’s got this. It’s not over yet,” he reassures me. “Baker is a tough son-of-a-bitch.”
Titus moves in again, ready to end this, and fires a series of punches, but this time, Baker does a better job of bobbing and weaving out of the way of Titus's fists. An audible growl comes from Titus in the otherwise quiet room, and his frustration is evident.
“That’s it, Baker. Keep it up.” Milo continues to encourage my man like he’s the trainer in his corner.
Hearing Milo’s words lights a fire inside Baker, and he moves in and lands a series of punches on Titus. Titus staggers back, and Baker doesn’t let up. He goes on the attack and continues to land blow after blow with his lightning-quick hands.
“Yeah!” Milo screams.
One final shot to the right jaw sends Titus falling forward, landing hard on the concrete from a knoc
kout.
“Winner!” the referee shouts, pointing at Baker.
“Thank God.” I breathe a sigh of relief this match is over as I jump to my feet.
Milo and I rush to Baker, where he’s holding the ribs Titus kept going after. The grimace on Baker’s face instantly has me worried.
“You all right?” I ask, afraid to touch him.
“My ribs are broke. I need to get out of here and get some ice. It fucking hurts to breathe.” Hearing him admit he’s hurt so badly causes my anxiety to take over.
“We’ll take you to the hospital,” I order.
“Yeah, man. You look pretty bad,” Milo agrees.
“No. Too expensive. I’ll be fine. Just get me out of here.”
It’s then Phineas makes his way over to us just as they’re scooping Titus up off the floor.
“You.” Phineas points at Milo with a deadly curl on his lip. “Come collect Baker’s money and then get him the hell out of my building. He’s dripping blood on my floor.”
My mouth drops open. This man cares more about blood getting on his shitty concrete floor than the well-being of the two men who nearly killed each other for his entertainment.
Phineas spins on his heel and struts out the door, not saying another word to us.
“What an asshole,” Milo mutters. “If you ever accept another fight here, bro, I’ll kick your ass.”
A strained chuckle comes from Baker. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on coming back here.”
“Good. Now let’s get the fuck out of here and get you to the hospital.” Milo tries once again, which earns him a glare from my boyfriend.
“No fucking hospitals. I mean it,” Baker growls. “Take me back to campus.”
“I’m not so sure a four-hour car ride is a great idea given your condition,” I argue.
Rebellious and Reckless: College Sports Romance Stand-Alone (Campus Hotshots Book 1): Campus Hotshots Page 19
