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)
“That’s why I need the money from the Dimitrov fight. It’s big fucking money, Cam. It’ll enable me to help Scott for as long as he needs. But it’ll also secure Gigi’s future.”
I stare at the wall behind him, hating that he feels he has to do this but understanding why. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
He drags his hand down his face. “Because I was ashamed. I am ashamed. Scott’s in this position because of me. I knew something wasn’t right. I should’ve stopped the fight.”
“No. That’s what referees are for. It’s not on you to stop the fight.”
“It was my fist that hit him hard enough to make his head snap back, rupturing an artery, causing a blood clot on his brain. I’m the reason he stopped breathing and lost oxygen to the brain for more minutes than acceptable. Multiple surgeries, a stroke, a fucking wheelchair. Cam…I did that to him. He’s my responsibility.”
I close my eyes at the bluntness of what he’s saying.
“I understand…” I say, opening my eyes. “But I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”
“I’m not being hard enough. I have everything here. I have you back. I have Gigi, my kid brothers and sister, and even my dad. Scott has nothing and no one, except for me and the doctors treating him and the nurses caring for him. His whole life changed. His future, everything he could’ve been, was taken from him with one single punch.”
“And, now, to help him, you’re going to fight someone else, risk the same thing happening again.” I wrap my arms around myself at the thought, trying to ward off the chill it brings.
“Dimitrov isn’t a guy you need to worry about. What happened to Scott won’t happen to him. The guy’s head is made out of stone.”
“It’s not him I’m worried about getting hurt!” I exclaim. “It’s you!”
Zeus frowns, taking my words like an insult. Like I think he’s weak. I don’t think he’s weak. But I think Dimitrov is unpredictable. I’ve read and heard the stories about him.
“He won’t get near me,” Zeus grinds the words out.
“He’s an animal, who has no concept of the rules. He should be in a cage. Not a boxing ring.”
Zeus takes my face in his hands. “He won’t get near me,” he enunciates. “I’ve never lost a fight. In all these years, no one has gotten close to hurting me.”
I point to the scar on his brow. “The guy who did that got close, real close, to hurting you.”
“A bar fight with a glass bottle is a helluva lot different than two gloved guys in a boxing ring.”
I heave out a sigh, knowing that his mind is set, and nothing I say or do will make him see things differently.
“Dove”—he cups my chin with his hand—“promise me that you won’t worry about this.”
I move my eyes to his. “I can’t promise that.”
“Cam…”
I pull from his hold. “Don’t ask me not to worry about you, okay? I love you. It comes with the territory. I get why you need to do this, why you feel that you need to do the fight with that crazy bastard Dimitrov, but it doesn’t mean that I have to like it. I just…I need some time to get my head around it, so”—I take a small step back—“I’m going to go back to work. My lunch break is almost over anyway.”
I lean forward and give him a quick, perfunctory kiss on the cheek. Then, I cross the room and pick my bag up from the floor, hanging it on my shoulder.
“Dove…”
I stop by the door and glance back at him.
“Are we going to be okay?” he asks in a quiet voice.
I give him a small smile. “We’re gonna be fine,” I tell him.
Because it’s true. It’s not us that I’m worried about. It’s him stepping into that ring with Dimitrov that has me running scared.
Four Weeks Later
“Mommy.” The sound of Gigi’s whispering voice rouses me from a deep sleep.
“You okay, Gigi girl?” I mumble.
“Uh-huh. But why’s Daddy sweeping in your bed?”
My eyes flash open to see Zeus lying facedown, fast asleep beside me, his strong arm slung over my stomach, pinning me there. The duvet is fortunately covering what I know is his bare ass.
Oh, fuck.
Fucking fuck.
He stayed last night after Gigi went to bed. We haven’t had much alone time since he started training for his fight.
Do I feel better about his upcoming fight? No. But I’m dealing. Kind of.
When Zeus trains, it’s intense. He’s hardly here at the moment, and when he is, he rightly spends time with Gigi. Meaning sex has been sparse—okay, nonexistent this last month. But he was all frisky last night, and who was I to say no? Especially not when he threw me down on the bed and went down on me, giving me the orgasm to top all orgasms. Then, we ended up fucking like animals for the next hour, and we must’ve passed out from exhaustion because he’s still here. And Gigi’s seen us together in bed, and—