“Shut up, it was a dark time for me,” I say with a self-depreciating laugh.
“He said he was going to ruin you,” Bree says with a sniffle.
“Not like I haven’t already done that myself,” I say. “Look… I looked into you and your family the moment you disappeared. I know who your dad is. He could try to ruin me, but I doubt it would work. I’m kinda rich, kinda good looking, and a sports celebrity.”
“What?” Bree asks, pulling back to look at me.
“The world loves a good comeback story. Your dad would have fucked up royally if he tried to really fuck with me,” I say confidently.
He would have too. I don’t like shit getting out about how much money I have, but I’m not poor. Not by any means. I’ve made a shit ton of money fighting and investing, and money means I could write my own narrative.
He would have looked bad as fuck trying to smear the guy trying to piece his life back together. All I would have to do is call a sports broadcasting channel and offer them my story. They love putting together little documentaries about sports stars.
Fuck, I even know the music I would put to some of my scenes. Normally, I would never agree to be in one of those damn things, but if I was forced by Bree’s father…
Fucker wouldn’t know what hit him.
But she couldn’t possibly know any of this, could she? I mean, she’s even admitted to me that she’s never really watched the sport. She doesn’t even know about her own stepbrother’s fame. She’d never even heard of me before she came to the gym that one day.
Fuck, I can see why she thought she had to do something to protect us. Fucking bastard of a father was using her ignorance to his benefit, trying and almost successfully scaring her into whatever Machiavellian schemes he has.
“Let’s fucking go!” Chase yells as he slams open the door to the dressing room.
Seeing Bree crying in my arms, he stops dead in his tracks.
“What the fuck?” he asks before stomping over to us.
“Give me a minute,” I say with a frown. “We’re trying to work some shit out.”
“I gave you a minute. They’re getting ready to start your entrance without you,” he growls at me. “Bree, why are you here? I mean, what happened?”
All at once everyone but me starts to talk. Then Dale sweeps into the room and starts screaming at us all.
The bastard even starts snarling at Bree’s tears.
Fuck.
“Stop!” I bellow to everyone.
When silence finally falls, I say, “I have a fight, we’ll talk this shit out when it’s over.”
Pulling Bree close, I kiss her as hard as I can, trying to push every single gut-wrenching emotion I have inside me into her.
I love this damn woman, and I’ll never let her leave me again.
Her lips open to mine, and just like me she puts all the words she has for me in the kiss. It’s scorching and searching, loving and binding.
She’s not leaving again, I can feel it.
An arm starts to yank me away from the kiss and I hear Dale yelling at me to keep it in my pants.
Fucker.
Shaking my head, I nod at him then look to Bree. “I’ll be back.”
* * *
The pounding rhythm of my intro music starts as soon as I walk out of the curtained entrance. The hard beats of I Prevail’s song “Bow Down” hit me straight in the chest.