Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I push up to my feet. “I can’t believe you’re still going to work with that guy after what he did to us.”
Zeus stands. “You think I like it any more than you do? No. But I’m contractually bound. If I walk away from that fight, I will lose everything I’ve worked for.”
“So, this is about money?”
“Yes. Of course it is. Do you think I’m doing this for fun? If I had my way, I would bury Marcel back in the hole that he first crawled out of, but right now, until I do this fight, it’s not an option.”
“Is money the only thing that matters to you?” I hate myself for saying it the second I do because I know that’s not true.
His expression darkens. “You and Gigi and Ares, Lo, and Missy are the only things that matter to me. And to give you the lives you deserve means I have to earn money. And I do that in the only way I know how. I fight, Cam. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at. It’s who I am!” He slams a hand to his chest.
“That’s not just who you are!” I counter. “You’re a father and a brother and a son to a man who doesn’t deserve you. And you’re…mine, Zeus. My best friend. My partner. The love of my life. And I don’t care about the money. Gigi doesn’t care about the money. We can figure something out with Lo and Missy finishing college. Ares could help. I’m sure the NFL is paying him well.”
“He already pays half of their tuition fees,” Zeus admits to me.
“So, what’s the problem then? I’m sure he could cover the whole of it until they graduate. And your dad…well, let him stand on his own two feet for once in his life.”
Zeus turns from me, his hands going to the back of his neck, fingers linking together. I hear him expel a harsh breath.
I walk up behind him and press my hand to his back. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His arms come down from his neck, and he turns to face me. The look in his eyes has my pulse jumping with worry of what he might be about to say.
“I know you don’t care about the money,” he says in a quiet voice. “But I need Gigi’s future to be secure, Dove. I want her to have every opportunity that money can afford. Every opportunity that I never had. And, no matter what my dad has done or how much he’s let us down…he’s my dad. I can’t just leave him to fend for himself.”
“And?”
He briefly closes his eyes before opening them. “And…there’s another reason I need the money.”
“Which is?”
He stares at me for a long moment, guilt and shame swimming in his beautiful eyes. “Kaden Scott,” he says low and with pain. “I need the money for Kaden Scott.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you need money for Kaden?”
“To pay for his ongoing treatment and living assistance. He’s in a fucking wheelchair, Cam. He might not walk again.”
“I understand that, but does his insurance not cover it?”
“Not the level of treatment and physio that he deserves. And he doesn’t have any family, Cam. He’s all alone.”
“Seriously?”
“He was raised in foster care. His so-called friends along with his manager were nowhere to be seen after his hospitalization. They all just fucking left him. Walked away without a backward glance.”
“Assholes,” I say, thinking how lucky I was to have Aunt Elle, or I could have ended up in foster care when my mom died.
“A lot of people are in this business. They only care about money and stature. A fighter is a paycheck to promoters, and if he’s not making money, then he’s worthless to them. They tossed Scott out like he was trash. He was in a bad way for a long time. I spent pretty much all of the last twelve months visiting him at the hospital. Trying to help in any way I could. I only came back to New York to start my training for the Dimitrov fight. But then I found you, and…everything changed.”
“Where’s he being treated?”
“Arizona. There’s a great rehabilitation facility there. I had him moved there from the hospital in Atlantic City once he was well enough to be transported. Scott hasn’t once asked me for a dime. He didn’t ask for my help. It was only when I was there, visiting, that I overheard a conversation he was having with his doctor, regarding his options for treatment. He hates that I’m paying for his treatment and insists that he’ll pay me every dime back—stubborn bastard that he is. But I put him there, Cam. Paying for his treatment and care and being his friend—it’s the very fucking least I can do.”
“I don’t think it was your fault, Zeus. You all get in that ring, knowing the dangers, but I do understand why you feel responsible and want to help him.”