Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(18)

I run a hand through my hair and wish I could put myself into a headlock for even contemplating saying no. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of; fighting for the UFL in any capacity is more than I could ever ask for.

“So…?” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “What do you think?”

“Oh, uh…can I think about it?” I’m a f*cktard!

His narrow glare becomes impossibly narrower, and I cringe when I see a flash of disappointment in his expression. “Make it quick. If you’re not going, I’ve got a line of guys who will.” He turns back to his computer, dismissing me.

“Cam, this is a great opportunity. Thanks, ya know, for believing in me. I’ll let you know in—”

“Get yourself a passport and pull your head outta your ass so I can put you on a f*cking plane to England. I need an answer in a few weeks, tops.” His disappointment is suffocating.

“I got it. Thank you.” It’s all I can say before I stand to leave, and even as I walk out of his office and to my Jeep, all I’m thinking is there’s no way in hell I’m leaving Axelle for a year. No. Way.

I’ll have to find a different route to achieve my goals, stay local, bide my time, and stick to my plan.

*





Axelle





Call me when we’re cleared to put that piercing to use.

I can’t stop staring at the last text Clifford sent me. Even as I run the stupid pink ball along the back of my teeth, my stomach clenches in that all too familiar way. Why can’t I just tell him to f*ck off? Let him go and move on?

A tiny voice in my head whispers that I need him. That if I can’t keep him from leaving then I’m truly destined to be alone. A shiver races up my spine at the very idea of growing old alone. All I ever wanted was someone who’d love me unconditionally, someone who’d commit to me and only me forever and ever.

Is that even possible anymore?

“What are you doing?” My mom waves to me from the front door of her home.

I’ve been sitting in the driveway, trying to build up the courage to go inside and face the wrath of her and my stepdad. Before I left to come here, I practiced hiding my piercing by having conversations with myself in the mirror. I tried talking with my teeth closed, without moving my lips, and concluded that there’s no hiding this thing. The in-your-face approach is the best way to handle this.

“Sorry!” I roll up my window and shut the car off. “I can do this.”

She meets me at my car when I hop out and wraps me in a hug. “I swear you seem older every time I see you!”

“Mom, it’s been a week.”

“I know, but still.” She pulls back, but hooks her arm around my waist. “Come on. Jack’s inside and the last time I left him alone for too long, he wound up drowning his army guys in the toilet.”

I snag my purse and hit the key fob to lock my doors. “Where’s Blake?”

“He’s on his way. Don’t worry.” She squeezes me. “He’d never miss dinner with you.”

We break apart to climb the few steps up to the front door. Mom and Blake moved from their condo into a very comfortable home in one of the nicer Vegas suburbs. It’s a ranch-style home on a huge chunk of land with the biggest backyard I’ve ever seen complete with a pool, basketball court, and a guesthouse, which Blake turned into a man cave. It’s the perfect house for the perfect family. I frown and push through the front door. I really am happy for them.

“Jackie Bear, where is your diaper?” My mom’s giggle filters through the high-ceilinged entryway. “God, you’re just like your father.”

“Ass-ole!” Jack still can’t say my name. I sigh as a streak of blond and naked comes racing toward me. “Ass-ole!” He crashes into my shins, nearly taking me off my feet.

“Whoa, buddy!” I scoop him up and he immediately melts into me. “You’re a little tank.”

He rests his head on my shoulder, and the simple act of tenderness cramps my chest. I never knew it was possible to love someone as much as I love my brother—the kind of love I’d gladly lie in front of a bus for, commit murder if anyone hurt him, the craziest kind.

My mom comes up holding a fresh diaper, her eyes soft as she watches me cuddle Jack. “Here.”

I take it from her and move to the couch just as the door that leads from the garage swings open.

“Damn, it smells good in here.” Blake’s voice booms through the space before he appears from the kitchen and wraps my mom into a hug, his eyes on me. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey.”

“Car running okay? When was the last time you had the oil changed?”

“Yeah, it’s great. Maybe a month ago?”

“I’ll check your tire pressure after dinner.”

“Okay.” I put Jack down, his bare bottom flashing the room.

Blake’s mouth stretches in a grin that is all manly pride. “He can’t help but show off his assets.”

My mom shakes her head. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Dada! Ass-ole!”

“It’s Ax-el, son. Ax. El. Stop callin’ your sister an *.”

I secure his diaper and snag his tiny T-shirt that has Future Heavyweight written on the front. I pull it over his head and help him pop his little arms through. “Can you say Ax?”