Part 41 (2/2)

I swallowed thickly, trying to make the transition from human being to professional journalist. ”All in the name of the greater good, Senator. I take it you got my message about the veterans' jobs bill?”

”I did,” he replied. ”As well as the many others you left with my secretary. That's why I'm calling you back. I'd love to sit down and talk to you, face-to-face. Where can we meet?”

My heart pounded in my chest. Holy s.h.i.+t. This was everything I'd been waiting for. Everything I'd dreamed of. I'd had fantasy after fantasy of the senator calling me back and arranging a meeting just like this, and yet now that it had happened, I had no idea what to do.

After a pause that felt like eons, I said, ”What about Cafe Franz?” It was an upscale, but affordable, restaurant downtown. They had a room for private meetings that I was sure the senator would take advantage of.

”That sounds fine,” the senator said. ”I haven't eaten dinner yet, anyway.”

I blinked. ”Wait. You want to meet tonight?”

”That was my intent,” he replied, ”though if you're busy, I'm sure we could schedule something for... next month, perhaps?”

No, that wouldn't do. Kellan needed this bill to pa.s.s, and he needed it to pa.s.s yesterday. But he was fighting tonight, and soon. Could I really manage to tackle both his fight and a meeting with a state senator all in one evening?

I had to. I'd make it work. And when Kellan saw me after, I'd have amazing news. He'd be thrilled. It would be a great start to his new life-our new life.

Steeling myself, I said, ”Tonight is fine. I can be at Cafe Franz in fifteen minutes.” At least it was close to where Kellan would be fighting tonight. If I pled my case succinctly, he might not even have time to miss me.

”I'll see you there,” the senator said. Then he ended the call.

I thought about shooting Kellan a quick text to let him know where I'd be, but I didn't want to worry him unnecessarily. If I wasn't going to be late, it wasn't a big deal, anyway. And I kind of wanted this news to be a surprise, if things went well. If they didn't, there was no reason to tell him. I didn't need the antic.i.p.ation of an answer clouding his judgment in the ring, either. He needed to keep his eyes on the prize: winning his freedom.

Instead, I sent him another heart, but didn't get a reply. He was probably warming up now, and I knew from experience he had no place in those shorts of his to hide a phone. They'd certainly never hidden his erection.

You can do this, I a.s.sured myself as I pressed the b.u.t.ton for the garage. You can make it all work out. I'm sure of it.

Kellan was my hero. For once, I wanted to be his, too.

~ Nineteen ~

Kellan

The first indication I had that something was wrong was when I saw the crowd.

Never had I ever drawn a following this large. I'd never seen anyone else on my level do it, either. s.h.i.+t, even my last fight, which was supposed to be good odds for Vlad, hadn't had this many people watching. Something was going on here. Even if it was my last fight, there was no justification for the hundreds of people gathered here.

I wasn't especially familiar with this venue, either. It wasn't my usual place, and it was a h.e.l.l of a lot bigger, too. The facilities here were a little nicer, a little more permanent. Whoever had set this up sure as h.e.l.l wasn't worried about getting busted. There was no way they'd be able to bug out on short notice.

I stuffed my clothes and my cell phone in one of the lockers as I listened to the chatter coming from the ringside. Jesus, I could hear them all the way from in here. A low beat was thrumming from a wicked sound system I'd caught a glimpse of on my way in, a ba.s.sline I could feel in my chest. It only made me more uneasy. I didn't like all this flas.h.i.+ness. I felt a little too much like I was on display.

”What's the occasion?” I said to Vic when I heard him come in. I was doing my best to follow Parker's advice and be civil, but I knew if I looked at him, I'd bash his stupid rat-fink face in, so I kept my eyes on the inside of my locker and busied myself with making everything fit in there.

”Gotta do it big for your last fight, don't we, Killer?” Vic replied a little more coolly than I was used to. I was pretty sure he was mocking me, and I got the impression that there was something sinister lurking in his tone. ”You're gettin' your fifteen minutes of fame and fortune tonight, so do me a favor and don't look a gift horse in the mouth, huh?”

”If you'd said that a few weeks ago, Vic, I would've happily obliged,” I said, closing my locker. I turned to face him. Yup, there it was-the unmistakable urge to put my fist through Vic's skull. I was practically seeing red. But I had a lot riding on tonight, and I couldn't afford to compromise it with a.s.sault and battery charges. Parker was right. I needed to keep my head in the game.

I swallowed my rage and added, ”But I think we both know now that everything you do comes with a price. Usually one n.o.body knows they're paying.”

Vic blinked at me, barely suppressing a smile. ”Oh, did I forget to mention?” I stared, and he grinned. ”Oh, man. I guess I did! No wonder you're so confused.” He walked over and reached up, placing his sweaty palm on my shoulder. ”Tonight's a big night for you and me both, Killer. You're goin' up against Johnny Tutera. What a rare opportunity, huh?”

Johnny Tutera. Johnny f.u.c.king Tutera? Vic couldn't be serious. Johnny Tutera was a legit MMA fighter. A f.u.c.king professional. I'd watched his fights on TV a couple of times, spent whole nights in awe of the guy's skill and prowess. What the f.u.c.k was he doing here? And how the h.e.l.l had Vic snagged him?

More importantly, how the f.u.c.k was I supposed to beat him?

Slowly, I realized that was the point. I wasn't supposed to win this fight. This was Vic's way of making sure of that. Once again, he'd set me up for a fall. Vic always had to get the last word in, and this was one h.e.l.l of a ”f.u.c.k you.”

I swatted his hand off my shoulder and grabbed him by the throat, shoving him back into the set of lockers opposite mine. Vic slapped at my wrist and I hoisted him up, pus.h.i.+ng him hard against the metal until his feet left the ground.

”You fat b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” I hissed, squeezing hard. Vic wheezed and his face purpled. ”You dumb f.u.c.k. You think you're pullin' all the strings here, don't you, Vic? You think all your little pit bulls are just too loyal to bite the hand that feeds them, huh? Except we never knew that you were feeding us sc.r.a.ps while you feasted on the food we f.u.c.king brought you.”

”Killer,” Vic managed to choke out, and I squeezed tighter.

”Shut up, Vic. For once, I'm gonna get the last word in.”

I looked deep into Vic's eyes as I strangled the life out of him. His eyes were bulging and his tongue was pus.h.i.+ng past his teeth. I could see the veins in his neck and head straining, pus.h.i.+ng through his skin as they begged for the blood I was denying him. He kicked frantically, scoring a couple of weak blows against my thighs, gagging hard against my fingers wrapped around his throat.

When he began to struggle a little less and his body started to go limp, I let him go. Vic crashed to the ground and sucked in a long, painful breath, followed by the worst coughing fit I'd ever heard. I thought he was going to throw up.

I squatted down beside him and said, ”No matter which way this goes tonight, Vic, I'm walking out of here with what you owe me. I'm not playing your stupid f.u.c.king games anymore. You f.u.c.k with me again, and the next time we meet, I won't stop squeezing until you're dead. It wouldn't be the first time I looked into a man's eyes while his life ran out. That's why they call me 'Killer,' Vic. Or did I forget to mention that?”

Vic was too busy trying to get a breath in to answer me. Good. I hoped I'd crushed his larynx and that d.i.c.k face would never be able to talk again.

I knew I'd done exactly what Parker had warned me not to do, but f.u.c.k Vic, and f.u.c.k this fight. Johnny Tutera was a monster in silver boxing shorts, a champion among champions. He was a couple years younger than me, too, and in a heavier weight cla.s.s for sure. He was at the top of his f.u.c.king game, and I was on my way out.

Not to mention I'd f.u.c.ked before the fight. I knew that was superst.i.tion, but it didn't exactly put me at ease. This was turning out to be a big f.u.c.king mess, and I was once again caught in the middle.

Everything you touch turns to s.h.i.+t, a little voice in the back of my head sneered. That voice had been softer ever since I'd gotten back together with Parker, but even at a whisper, it made my stomach tie itself into knots.

There's no backing down now, I thought in reply. The only way to go is forward. Whatever happens tonight, at least I'll have Parker, and a new lease on life, too. As long as she's proud of me, that's enough.

But was it? What if I went out undefeated? What if I could keep the reputation I'd spent so long building in the underground fighting world? What if I could have my cake and eat it too-go out on top, and end up with Parker and my money all the same?

Was that greed, or pride? I wasn't sure, but I knew d.a.m.n well it was foolish to even consider going out there against Johnny Tutera.

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