Taking Chances (Taking Chances 1)

“His people? Who is he?” But I had a sinking feeling I already knew who. There aren’t many people who would want to go up against Brandon again.

“Demon.”

“NO!”

“I would make eight grand off his trainers and manager! Eight grand Harper!”

I shook my head and stared at him incredulously, “We don’t need that money Brandon.”

“It wouldn’t hurt either, five minutes and I could walk out with an easy ten thousand dollars. Maybe more.”

“Why are you doing this?” My voice broke at the end and he stepped toward me again, this time succeeding in wrapping his arms around me.

“What’s going on?” Someone asked from the back door.

“Great question.” Carter sounded annoyed.

“He got a call to go fight.” Konrad said softly.

“Well what’s wrong with that?” Carter eyed me warily before facing Konrad again, “He hadn’t lost a match when I used to hang out with you, right?”

“He’s never lost, period. But the last one, the guy he fought wasn’t happy that he lost, so he went after Brandon again, hit him so hard it almost caused severe damage. Doctors said he wouldn’t be so lucky next time he got another hit to the head. This fight’s against the same guy.”

Hearing Konrad gloss over that awful night gave me chills, Brandon brought me back to his chest, kissing the top of my head.

“Let’s just talk about this.” Brandon whispered against my hair.

I pushed back and looked up at him, searching his gray eyes, my heart broke at the determination there. “You’ve already made up your mind.”

Brandon grimaced, “Nothing bad will happen, I promise.”

Shaking my head, I stepped out of his embrace, “Then go Brandon. If you’re so sure about this, just go.”

“Sweetheart, don’t be like that.”

“I said go.” Without another glance in his direction, I pushed past the group of people in the dining room and walked toward the bedrooms. Stopping in the nursery, I barely made it over to the chair before my legs gave out and the sobs shook my body. I could hear yelling from the dining and living room for a few minutes before Brandon came into the room, picking me up off the chair and wrapping his arms around me tight.

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

Was he serious? Did he expect me to just be okay with this? “Why would you do this? To Liam and me? To our baby? Why!”

“I’m sorry, but that’s a lot of money. I would be stupid to just pass on that. Please come with me, I need you there.”

“There is no way I would go back to an Underground fight! Not after what I saw last time. Don’t do this,” I begged, “what if something happens to you? Do you not care about us at all?”

He stepped back, looking like I’d slapped him, “How could you even ask me something like that?”

“Brandon! Do you not remember what happened after your last fight at all? You promised me you wouldn’t fight again. You swore you would never do something that could risk us losing you. And one phone call from Crow and you’re just going to jump back into it? This isn’t some ridiculous excuse for a fight, this is Demon. Demon! I’d never been more terrified watching you fight someone than I was that night, he was good then and I have no doubt he’s been training.”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed slightly, “I beat him once, I ca–”

“I wasn’t saying you weren’t good, or that you can’t still win a fight. But damn it babe! Does none of this just scream bad idea to you? Liam will be one in less than a week, your last fight was a year ago tomorrow. Doesn’t that seem like a bad omen?”

He breathed heavily through his nose, “It’s one fight. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Brandon –”

“I need to do this Harper.” If the finality of his tone hadn’t broken through, the expression on his face would have let me know this discussion was over.

Biting back a sob, I somehow managed to nod my head and keep the next wave of tears back until he kissed me chastely and said he’d call me as soon as it was over. He hadn’t heard one word I’d said. Did he really miss fighting that bad? Was it just because it was Demon? Because I knew it wasn’t for the money.

Konrad and Jeremy opened our bedroom door before shutting it and barging into the nursery, closely followed by Bree.

“He’s going?” She asked softly as she sat on the glider’s ottoman.

Nodding, I eyed the boys, “Will you please go to the fight? Make sure nothing happens to him?”

“We’re staying with you.” Bree answered for the three of them.

“I need to be alone right now, and I need you there in case it gets bad. Please keep me updated.”

Konrad’s phone chimed and he cleared his throat, “Fight’s confirmed, it’s already going around who’s fighting and where.”

“Go.” I pleaded.

The boys hugged me before walking out, but Bree lingered.

“I want to know who won as soon as it’s over. Okay?” When she didn’t say anything I hugged her tightly and walked her out to the hallway, “Can you apologize to Carter for me? Tell him I’ll talk to him later.”

Bree sighed, but kissed my cheek and made her way to the living room while I went to the bedroom and started packing a few things. Grabbing money, my toiletries, pajamas, a change of clothes and everything Liam would need for two days, I was out of the house ten minutes after everyone left. Mom was surprised to see me, but after saying everyone was having a good time at our place, and I didn’t want to pick up Liam too late, she gave me a quick kiss and sent me on my way with my son. Bree texted me that the fight had started only ten minutes after I had us settled into a hotel room and I held Liam tight as I paced back and forth for twelve excruciatingly long minutes. As soon as she let me know that Brandon won, and all of them were safely in their cars and headed back to our house; I powered down my phone and curled onto the bed, letting loose the flood of tears that had been threatening to spill over since I walked out my door.

21

Looking at Liam in my rear view mirror, I bit my bottom lip nervously as I tried to calm my body’s shaking. It was Monday afternoon, and in the day and a half since I’d been gone, I still had yet to turn on my phone or speak to anyone and was now five minutes from the house. Brandon was supposed to be working today, but I had a feeling he’d be home when we got there, and I was trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever was waiting for me there.

I knew it was stupid to leave the way I did, and not leave a way for anyone to get ahold of me. But I had known I wouldn’t be gone more than two days, and I needed time for Brandon and myself to think separately. The fact that he was so willing to go back to fighting after everything we went through last year, and all his promises, killed me. And I still had no idea what I thought about it, or why I thought he had done it. My mind kept screaming at me that if he would do this, then our family really didn’t mean that much to him, but I knew that wasn’t true. Brandon loved us fiercely. Which kept leading me to the question that had been bothering me, why would he risk getting hurt, or worse, if he cared about us as much as I knew he did?

My stomach dropped when I saw Brandon’s Jeep in the driveway. Not bothering with the garage, in case I felt the need to make a hasty retreat again, I put my Expedition in park and just stared at the door. He was going to be so pissed. The few times I’d ever seen him truly angry were terrifying, and his anger hadn’t even been directed at me. Glancing down to my knotted hands in my lap, I was surprised when a tear fell onto my arm. Brushing the wetness from my cheeks I took a deep shuddering breath and got Liam and myself out of the car. I’d barely shut the front door when I heard Brandon running down the hallway. He skidded to a stop when he saw us and I inhaled a gasp. He wasn’t pissed, but he looked terrible. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot with dark half circles underneath. One hand was steadying himself against the wall while the other was clutching at his bare chest, rising and falling quickly with labored breaths.

“You – you’re –” He cursed softly and pressed his lips tightly together.

Liam started wiggling against me and asking for his dad, so I set him on the floor, watching as he quickly crawled toward Brandon. Brandon dropped hard to his knees and scooped him up in a tight hug, a sob breaking out of his chest. My chest tightened, I’d seen Brandon cry before, but he was always silent and as controlled as could be during those times. To watch his shoulders shake mercilessly and hear him continue to choke on his tears broke my heart worse than I thought possible. He rolled over until he was propped up against the wall and curled his body around Liam, murmuring things too low for me to hear.

On shaky legs, I walked into the hall and sat down against the wall opposite them, my knees barely brushing Brandon’s feet. At the contact, he abruptly stood up with our son and walked into the nursery. A wave of nausea rolled through me, but with the lack of morning sickness this pregnancy, I figured it had a lot more to do with the fact that I’d screwed up this situation even more, than with the pregnancy itself. The nursery door shut some time later, and Brandon’s hand stopped in front of me in offering. Placing my hand in his, I let him help me up, where he proceeded to lift me into his arms and carry me to our bedroom. Each step was careful as his brown eyes bore into my gray ones, when we reached the bed he laid me down so gently, as if he thought I would break from anything more. Without breaking contact from my eyes, he crawled in next to me, and rolled me onto my side so we were facing each other. I reached up to brush the remaining tears from his face, and traced the shadows under his eyes. Catching my hand, he kissed my palm, then the tattoo on my wrist before releasing my hand so he could cradle my face.

“Brandon, I –”

He brushed his thumb over my lips and slowly shook his head, “I was stupid.” His voice was soft but rougher than usual, “So stupid. I missed fighting, and hated that people thought I stopped because I was scared. When he called –” his eyes briefly left mine as he tried to search for words, “it was like what happened last year was nothing, just another minor injury. I felt like I needed to prove something to myself, to Scarecrow, to Demon…everyone. I knew leaving was about the worst thing I could do, and I knew you would hate me when I got home, but I couldn’t stop. I had to go, I had to fight.