Craving the Fight, page 8
With the sand squishing through my toes and the sun beaming down on my skin, I had to say that the May weather in California was sublime. Closing my eyes, I listened to the gentle waves, feeling more at peace with each passing second. Two days had passed since I last saw Carter, and my world had been a whirlwind of emotions. I told him I needed time, and it was almost up. Was I still confused? Absolutely. On the other hand, I’d never felt better.
Reagan tried to get me to join her at the gym, but when I told her I didn’t want to see Carter yet, the questions began. I confided in her about everything, and she said she was happy for us, that Carter was one of the good guys. He was, but it didn’t change that I was scared to be with him. When I mentioned that to Reagan, she went on and on about facing your fears. That was precisely what I was going to do. It still didn’t change the fact I was terrified. Maybe that was how it was for many people, scared to take the leap. It happened with my parents when they were younger, and now, they were happily married.
“Hey, sweetheart,” my mother called out. As she approached, I glanced at her over my shoulder; she was dressed in a cream-colored coverup dress over her bathing suit and her favorite floppy hat. “I was looking all over the place for you.”
I patted the other side of my towel. “Been right here the whole time.”
She sat down on her knees and smiled at me. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
“Thinking,” I replied with a shrug of my shoulder.
My mother giggled. “I know that voice. Got some guy trouble?”
That was the understatement of the year. “If you only knew,” I grumbled.
Sliding her legs from under her, my mom settled in beside me, bumping me with her arm. “Tell me.”
Everyone was going to find out sooner or later. For over an hour we talked about Carter and what happened in San Francisco with Ryan and the photoshoot. I left out the details of our sex-filled night, but my mom wasn’t stupid.
My mother’s concerned emerald gaze washed over me. “How long have you and Carter had feelings for each other?”
“Ever since we were kids,” I confessed sheepishly. “He was my first kiss.”
Her eyes doubled in size. “Uh, let’s not tell your father that. I don’t think I want to know the details of that first kiss. I’m sure there’s a lot more where that came from.” Cheeks burning, I slapped a hand over my face and fell back on the towel. My mother burst out laughing and laid down next to me, resting a comforting hand over mine. “Young love. I get it.”
“What was it like when you and dad started dating?” I asked, peering over at her. “Did you trust him?”
A chuckle sprang from her. “Hell, no. A girl had to be stupid to trust one of the Twins of Terror. Your dad and uncle Camden had a horrible reputation with women.”
They were wild, just like Carter had been. “How did you learn to trust him?”
My mother’s smile saddened. “Honestly, it was the other way around. I had to fight to get your dad to trust me.”
“Really?” I countered, wondering how that was possible. “How so?”
Blowing out a sigh, she averted her attention to the sky. “I’m the one who ran away, Emma. Your dad was the wild card, spontaneous and exciting. I left him for a safer choice, which turned out to be the worst decision of my life. I hurt your dad, and he hated me for it.” I could hear the regret in her voice and see it on her face. “It took a long time for him to trust that I wouldn’t break his heart again.”
It reminded me of what I was doing with Carter. I was running away from him out of fear. “Seeing Carter on TV with women fawning all over him made me hate him for the longest time, Mom. I don’t think I can handle the fighter lifestyle he has.”
My mother turned back to me and sat up, her hand squeezing mine reassuringly. “Trust me, honey. If Carter cares about you, he’s not going to screw up. Personally, I like the young man. Your dad might not when he finds out you’re together.”
I sat up quickly. “We’re not together yet. I plan on talking to Carter tomorrow. He really didn’t want to give me these days to myself.”
With a roll of her eyes, my mother snickered. “He’s impatient just like the rest of them.” Then, getting to her feet, she brushed the sand off her dress. “I’m walking back to the house. Are you staying with your sister tonight?”
“Yep,” I answered with a nod. “Reagan wants to order takeout and watch a movie.”
My mother’s smile was beautiful. Everyone always said we looked alike, but I didn’t think I held a candle to her. The more I was around her, the more I missed her. “I love you, Emma.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
I watched her walk away and then turned my attention to the ocean. Time didn’t matter today, not even when another hour passed me by. I had nowhere to be, at least not until Reagan left the gym so we could begin our girls’ night. It just so happened that a text came in from her.
Reagan: Leaving the gym in 20. I’m starving so figure out what you want to eat.
Grinning, I brushed the sand off my legs and was about to stand when a guy with sandy blond hair and golden skin and wearing aviator sunglasses ran up, holding out his phone. He looked in his late twenties and somewhat familiar, like I’d seen him before.
“Excuse me, but have you seen this dog running around? His name’s Jack,” he said, bringing his phone closer. It was a medium-sized apricot-colored mutt with cute brown eyes.
Shaking my head, I peered up at him. “No, I’m sorry. How long has he been missing?”
The guy turned his back to me, and there across his shoulders was a giant dragon tattoo which snaked across his back and shoulders. “Uh, maybe an hour or so. Jack’s never been one not to listen.”
“I hope you find him. I’m sure someone will get him back to you.”
Still with his back to me, he laughed. “Oh, I have no doubt, Emma.”
Shivers raced down my spine, and even though it was hot outside, I was chilled to the bone. “How do you know who I am?”
“I know a lot of things, sweetheart.” I reached for my phone slowly, but he sat down next to me, casually stretching his legs. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m only here to talk. You’d be wise to smile and pretend we’re having a friendly conversation.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I snapped.
He tilted his head back and laughed. “Wow. Such dirty obscenities out of that pretty mouth of yours. I’m shocked.”
“What can I say?” I fumed. “I’m a fighter at heart.”
The guy scoffed. “Yeah, well, I know about that fighter family of yours. It’s why I’m here.”
My stomach sagged in understanding. “Are you the one who sent the letter?”
He shook his head, still not bothering to look at me. “Nope. That would be a mutual friend. Someone in New York delivered it for him. I’m just here to get the job started.”
Heart pounding in my throat, I swallowed hard. “What job?”
The guy laughed, the sound sinister and evil. “I can’t explain right now. You need to meet me tomorrow.”
“Seriously? Do I look stupid?” I spat, shaking my head incredulously. “I don’t know who the hell you are or who you work for.”
“Yeah, you do,” he replied, turning his sunglasses-covered eyes my way, “and if you don’t meet me, dear ole mommy and daddy will pay the price. Maybe even your sister, but we already have plans for her if you don’t cooperate. This isn’t a game, Emma.”
Gripping a fistful of sand, a mixture of both terror and the need to fight battled inside of me. “Where do you want to meet?”
He glanced around at our surroundings and patted my thigh; it was an intimate touch, and I jerked away. “Right here will be fine,” he said, smirking. “It’ll be a day date, so meet me here at noon. Plenty of people around and so forth. No need to worry about anyone hurting you.” He got up and looked down at me. “If you don’t show, I don’t think I have to explain what we’ll do. The rules are different now; it’s not like when your father and the others played the game.” He lifted his sunglasses and pierced me with his electric blue gaze. The feeling of familiarity grew stronger like I’d met him before, and there was no way I could forget his eerie presence. “See you tomorrow, Emma. And do me a favor, don’t tell anyone about our meeting. I don’t want any interference.”
His full-toothed grin made everything inside of me tremble with fear. Whatever he wanted from me couldn’t be good, and I knew the outcome if I didn’t comply. Someone would die if I refused, and I couldn’t allow that.
Chapter 17
Carter
Today was the day Emma’s supposed to come to me. She hadn’t stepped foot in the gym yet, nor tried to call. I’d hoped she would, but she was the stubbornest woman I knew. Even if she didn’t want to take the three days away from me, she’d do so just to prove her point.
I had no fucking clue what was going through her head, but I did know that I was ready for the shit to be over. If she wanted me to fight for her, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I couldn’t let her leave for New York without knowing she was mine, that she always had been.
My phone rang, and Brooks’ name popped up.
“Hey, man,” I said, pressing the speaker button.
“You ready?”
I slipped my T-shirt over my head. “Yep.” All I had to do was to put on my boots.
“Good. I’ll be there in ten. There’s something I have to tell you.”
The ten minutes flew by, and then I heard the rumbling of his Dodge Ram 1500 TRX pull into my driveway. When I hopped in his truck, I was greeted with a grim expression. I didn’t like it.
“What the fuck’s going on?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to know.
Brooks pulled out of my driveway and started toward the prison. “You’re not going to believe this shit,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road, “but Scar gets out of prison in two days.”
I was prepared to hear various things, but that wasn’t on the list. Shock didn’t begin to describe how I felt. “How is that possible?” I growled.
Brooks scrunched his shoulders. “Not sure, but I know our parents aren’t aware of this. The whole thing has been hush-hush. Scar has to know somebody higher up in the system.” He glanced over at me quickly. “My source has even mentioned him having ties to the mafia. I’m doing everything I can to find out who he has contact with. It might take some time.”
It got worse and worse by the second. “At least we’re talking to Scar now instead of waiting for him to show up on our doorsteps.”
Brooks huffed. “Which he’ll probably still do. The guy’s a fucking lunatic. My dad told me what Scar made your aunt do. She had to fight men; it was the only way she could keep them from going after Paxton, which they ended up doing anyway.” I knew she had to fight men but was never given the specifics. Brooks continued, his anger palpable. It took all I had to restrain mine. “One of those men Gabby had to fight tried to use a flogger on her.”
Bile rose up the back of my throat. Scar and his people deserved to get the shit beaten out of them and then some. They didn’t deserve to live. Now I could see why I wasn’t given specifics on Gabby’s time at the Dark Side. She probably didn’t want everyone to know, especially my dad.
“Did my aunt get hurt during that fight?” I asked.
Brooks barked a laugh. “Hell, no. Gabby went murderous on the guy and almost flogged him to death. Your aunt’s a badass bitch. My dad even told me about all the men Paxton killed in the ring.”
It had been assumed he had, but it was a different story hearing it. “How many men are we talking about?”
Brooks shrugged. “I don’t think anyone really knows. I was told they were the worst of the worst, so honestly, Paxton did the world a favor.”
“What do you think Scar’s going to do when he gets out? Do you think he’ll start up another Dark Side?” I wondered.
His head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing in concentration. “I don’t know. Scar’s had over twenty years to do nothing but plot out his return. Whatever he does, I can assure you it’ll be worse than before.”
It took an hour to get to the prison, and all I could think about was the what-ifs. What if Scar physically went after Emma? What if they hurt her? The answer was plain and simple … I’d kill him and everyone else who tried to take her away from me.
Brooks pulled into the prison's parking lot, and we went through two security checks before they let us inside. I was put in a small room with a two-way mirror and four-seater table that reeked of stale cigarette smoke and sweat.
“I’ll be on the other side of the mirror,” Brooks informed me. “The cameras will be off, and Scar knows that. It was the only way Scar agreed to talk to you.”
I jerked around to face him. “He knows it’s me who’s here to see him?”
Brooks blew out a heavy sigh. “Yep. The bastard has so much pull in this place it’s fucking scary. I honestly hate I’m leaving town for the next few weeks because I feel you’re all going to need me.”
“On the flip side, you’ll also be training with FBI elite. You could tap into their resources.”
He nodded, but I could see the reservation in his eyes. “I hope so.”
Brooks motioned toward the table, and I sat down when he walked out the door, shutting it behind him. I glanced over at the two-way mirror and stared at my reflection. The last three days had been hard, and I could see the toll it’d had on me. My eyes were tired, and my knuckles were raw from pounding the punching bag overzealously. Yet, I was ready for the fight ahead at the same time. I wanted Scar to stay the fuck away from Emma.
A few seconds later, the door opened, and an officer strolled in with Scar behind him followed by another officer. Scar towered over them both, wearing an orange jumpsuit with his wrists and ankles shackled. He was tall and bulky, but he hadn’t changed much from the pictures I’d seen of him over twenty years ago. I was told he’d gotten his nickname from the number of scars on his body, and they were right. He was covered in them, his skin jagged and rough all over his arms and neck, most likely knife wounds by their looks.
Smirking, Scar sat across from me and clasped his hands on the tabletop. The officers nodded at me and exited the room, leaving me alone with him. He averted his gaze to the two-way mirror and shook his head, amusement in his dark, soulless eyes.
“I see your friend didn’t want to come in and say hi,” he said.
I leaned back in my chair. “And what friend would that be?”
Scar chuckled. “Striker’s son, or one of them, at least. But no worries, I’m perfectly fine with just you.” His grin broadened. “Well done on the title fight. You’re just like your father.”
I was not in the mood for chit chat. Leaning forward with my elbows on the table, I shot Scar a fiery glare. “Thanks, but I’m not here to shoot the shit. You’ve always been straightforward with what you want from what I've been told. I know you’re getting out of here in two days.”
With a curious gaze, Scar tilted his head to the side. “I am. Good behavior, so I’ve been told.”
“I doubt that,” I snapped.
Scar threw his head back and bellowed. “Ah, I’ve missed the Reynolds’ biting wit. Your aunt was a firecracker too. How is she these days?” His hollow eyes gleamed. “I saw her walking the red carpet on TV with your cousin, Peyton. Both of them are very beautiful.”
A fire like none other burned in my gut, and I slammed my hands down on the table. “I don’t know what sick, twisted game you’re playing, but I want answers.”
Scar shook his head. “You’re not a part of this, Reynolds. Your dad never crossed me, but if you venture over that line ….”
Seething, I leaned over the table. “You stepped over that line the day you sent Emma that letter.”
Scar’s eyes twinkled evilly. “I see. What makes you think it was me who gave it to Emma?”
“It might not have been you who physically delivered it, but I have no doubt it came from you somehow. And let me tell you, if you go after Emma, you’ll be making a huge fucking mistake.”
Scar sat back in his seat. “Hurting your …” He paused for a second and smiled. “Friend is not what I want, son. She’s innocent in all of this. When I get out of here on Friday, I want to live my life in peace.”
“You expect me to believe that horseshit?” I hissed.
Scar shrugged flippantly. “Take it for what it’s worth. Although, I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you soon.” He leaned closer; his voice barely audible so only I could hear. “Tell Emma I said hello when you see her. She’s a little busy right now.”
My stomach clenched with dread. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
With an unnerving smile, Scar let out a small laugh. “I’m happy to know she can be trusted to keep her mouth shut. Guess she didn’t tell you about her date today.” His leer turned menacing. “I think my guy has a thing for her, but don’t worry, nothing will happen to her … yet.”
I kicked my chair back, grabbed his shirt and jerked him up. “Motherfucker! You better hope Emma’s okay. I don’t give a shit who you know in this world, I’ll rip off your goddamned head if anyone hurts her!” To hell with the consequences. At this point, I was ready to break his neck and be done with it.
The door burst open, and the officers pulled me off Scar, pushing me toward the door. “That’s enough,” one of them shouted. “You need to leave.”
Grinning smugly, Scar fell back into his chair, which pissed me off even more. Fuck him. I had to get to Emma. Brooks rushed out of the adjoining room and threw his arms in the air when he met me in the hall.
“What the hell? I couldn’t hear anything he said toward the end,” he said.
I grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hall, my patience running thinner by the minute. “Never mind that right now. We have to find Emma.”
I felt sick and overcome with rage just thinking about her being with one of Scar’s men and what they could be doing to her that very second.
