Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(64)

“Welcome to London, dude. Get used to it.” He nods toward a navy blue car the size of a roller skate with four doors. “I’m over there.”

My brows pop high. “That?”

“How the hell do you expect us to fit in that thing?” Rex stares at the wheeled dot with curiosity.

“We’re in London, brother.” He slaps Rex on the back. “This Vee Dub Golf is considered a full-sized vehicle.”

I rub the back of my neck, already feeling the muscle cramps that will surely follow being crammed into the backseat. “Not sure the name implies full-size.”

“You two spoiled American pussies would rather take a cab? ’Cause I’m telling you the taxis here aren’t any bigger.” He motions to a line of small black cars.

“I’ll ride in the back.” I pop the hatchback and toss my shit in, Rex coming up beside me to do the same.

We climb inside the car, and I’m surprised how spacious the interior really is. I still have to sit at an angle to accommodate my legs, but that’s mostly because both Rex and Caleb’s seats are cranked back so they have plenty of legroom. I make a note to call shotgun next time.

“Any chance there’s a twenty-four-hour diner close by? It’s dinnertime in Vegas, not to mention the kid and I are battling a little brown-bottle flu.”

Caleb pulls out and—oh shit—I have to turn away because driving on the wrong side of the road and on the wrong side of the car is freaking me the f*ck out. “Nah…only thing here open twenty-four hours is Mickey D’s.”

“Killer, you down to top this body torture off with some fast food?”

“When does training start?” I ask Caleb.

“First thing tomorrow morning.”

“Fuck.” I shrug and my stomach growls its answer. “May as well.”

“No barfing tomorrow, ya hear?” Caleb makes a left turn, and the first few sprinkles of rain hit the windshield. “We’ve been scaring the shit out of everyone here, telling them that Killer from Team USA is coming in ready to destroy. You’ve got a rep to uphold.”

Rex chuckles and grins back at me before facing Caleb. “He won’t disappoint. Trust me. The kid is ready. A little hangover and a heart-attack meal won’t change that.”

While staring out the window, all I can think is I hope to God he’s right.

Fighting is all I have left.

Failure isn’t an option.

~~~

“Wake up, princess.” A sharp sting on my cheek pulls me from sleep. “Come on. I’m only here for a few days, and we’ve got shit to do.”

I crack one eye open and stare at Rex, who’s standing on my bed, wearing his training clothes and a shit-eating grin. “What makes you so perky this morning?”

“First of all, it’s the afternoon.”

I rub my eyes. “No shit?”

“You slept like a corpse. Why didn’t you set your alarm?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Your phone, jackass.”

My gut tumbles. “Didn’t bring it.”

He looks confused.

“Figured I’d just get a new one.” And I didn’t want the brutal reminder of Axelle not calling me or the temptation to contact her.

“Okay, I’ll make sure we get you one today. Now wake the f*ck up and smile.” He holds his arms out wide. “This is the first day of the rest of your life, man. How the hell can you not be f*cking stoked about that?”

I snag my glasses off the bedside table and yawn.

“Get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs.” Rex hops off the bed and crosses to the door. “Hope you got a good night’s sleep. Today is going to be brutal.”

He slams the door behind him, and I groan and drop my head into my hands.

The truth is I slept like shit.

After we hit McDonalds, Caleb brought us to what will be my home for the next year. From the outside, it looks like part office high-rise, part fishbowl. With card access, a gate was opened that led to underground parking and an elevator. It wasn’t until we were inside the elevator and Caleb slid the card into the “lift” as he called it, that I realized we were headed to the top.

A split-level penthouse.

If I weren’t so tired and half stupid from the whirlwind of the last couple days, it would’ve hit me then that little Killian McCreery was now residing in a penthouse in London, fighting for UFL USA. And even after a fitful night’s rest, dreams of Axelle’s beautiful belly swelling with new life growing inside it, her wrapping that sweet body around me and telling me that she loves me and our baby… Damn, I’m far from rested.

But I’m awake.

And it’s sinking in.

I cross toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and pull back the sheer white curtains—another thing I didn’t quite appreciate about this place when I got here. Everything is either white or black. The carpet of my modest-sized room is white and peppered with sleek black furniture and a white overstuffed chair. It’s like living on a chessboard with a kick-ass view.

Gray clouds break up across the skyline, and below is the bustling city of London. But that’s not all. There’s water.

Caleb explained last night that this part of town was called the Docklands, which makes sense. From what I can tell, it’s industrial with waterways and docks for large ships probably making pick-ups and deliveries. It’s f*cking cool as shit.