Ash let out a low whistle. “That’s gonna be really hard after being tied up and—”
I shot him a look. “How about you stand by my side the way I stood by yours?”
“I did.” He sobered. “I’m the one who saved your lives.”
With that, he patted me on the back and then shoved me into the ring with the very pissed off father of the woman I loved.
He was a big man, six-two, enough muscle on his muscle that his sweat probably had muscle.
He had maybe fifteen more pounds of muscle on him, but I was taller, and my reach would be better—hopefully.
“Nixon, go ahead.”
Nixon stepped forward, and then with a cruel smile on his lips, said, “How many times did you sneak into my house?”
“Oh, fuck.” Maksim looked ready to puke in the corner.
We really needed to talk about the guy’s ability to encourage and lie!
“I didn’t really keep track, sir—”
The fist came flying at me so fast and hard that I stumbled to the side. My vision blurred as I moved out of the way and finally answered. “I’m guessing here, but probably…” I gulped. “…a little over two hundred times before—”
His next fist came from the other direction. I saw it. His knee, however, seemed to be operating independently, as it got me right in the chin; had my tongue been in the wrong place, I would have bitten it off.
There was something that felt very wrong about fighting him back when I was the one who went behind his back without his permission.
So, with every question, I took the hit, blocking what I could, making sure that whoever walked out of here the bloodiest, won the girl.
And that would be me.
“How many times did you lie to us!” Nixon roared.
“All the damn time,” I muttered, turning my right side toward him as my left eye started swelling shut. “We didn’t want to get caught!”
The air left my lungs as a kick got me right in the gut.
I fell to my knees. “Shit, that hurt.” I spat blood and wiped what I could from my mouth.
“Who was in your bedroom three nights ago when I knocked on the door?”
Shit, damn, shit. I’m going to die after all. I wasn’t innocent, and innocence wasn’t getting me out of the pain, so I answered truthfully. “She was, sir, still naked, in my bed, while I lied through my teeth.”
A roar of rage fell from Nixon’s mouth. I didn’t duck that time; I let him hit me, twice in the stomach before I doubled over in pain, and then another time across the face. I spat out more blood and muttered, “Worth it.”
“He’s not fighting back,” a voice said. “He needs to fight back!”
“He won’t.” My dad piped up. “This is about honor, and Nixon needs to get his. This is about respect, and Junior needs to learn how to give and receive it.”
I was starting to see double as I blinked up at a pacing Nixon. His eyes were sharp, focused, clearly intent on ending my life. “Will you die for her? Kill for her? Protect her?” With each question, a hit came until I was nearly blacked out on the mat.
All I remembered doing was whispering “yes” before my eyes caught his fist flying down into my face, I barely held my hands up, but the blow was hard enough to break some of the bones in my hand as I blocked.
I roared in agony and rolled to my side then slowly got up. “Any more questions?”
“You want me to kill you, is that it?” Nixon seemed amused.
“I want you to feel justified enough in your anger so that I can feel justified enough in loving her when I don’t deserve her.” His fist came and then stopped as he backed away.
“That—” Releasing a frustrated sigh, Nixon grabbed a towel and tossed it at me. “—was a good answer.”
“Great.” I stumbled to my knees again and briefly saw a flash of blond hair as it registered that Serena was at my side in the ring. Why’d she look so freaked out? We hadn’t even gone six rounds, or had we? I suddenly couldn’t think straight… couldn’t…
A solitary tear rolled down her cheek and dripped onto my chest, the last thing I noticed before passing out.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Serena
My dad wouldn’t let me into Junior’s room.
I expected to lay with him, comfort him, wash away his pain, and then cry until he woke up.
Instead, the first thing Junior Nicolasi, my boyfriend and soul mate saw when he opened his eyes was the guy who made him hurt beyond all reason.
My dad said he just wanted to talk.
Well, Junior had been out cold for at least four hours, talking had gone out the window the minute all of us had gotten into it.