Jab (Fighter Romance) (Las Vegas Series #2) (5 page)

Knox

Mila hasn’t been answering my calls and, when I stopped by her place like I had been doing for the past few weeks, she wasn’t home. I was starting to worry. So, I called her again as I walked into the gym. This time, the phone didn’t even ring.

We’re sorry. Your call can not be completed as dialed.

What the fuck was going on? Maybe she couldn’t pay her bill, and they disconnected her line. If that was the case, I would have gladly given her the money. But, she was so damn proud. She never wanted anything from me. I tried to buy her a dress I noticed her eying on one of our walks along the strip, which has become our thing, and she flipped. She told me to keep my money and not waste it on her. Did she not realize anything spent on her wasn’t wasted at all?

Still, I had an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach. I called my P.I. to see if he could dig up her phone issue and, if it
was
a missed payment, I would take care of it whether she liked it or not.

“Knox, what the hell are you waiting for?” Coach yelled from across the gym.

I held my hand up as I filled my P.I. in on everything. I hung the phone up feeling better, knowing he would get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later and headed over to Coach.

“You have a fight tomorrow. Stop fucking around, and get in the damn ring.”

“Will you cool your fucking jets? I have this one in the bag. JoJo Lopez has nothing on me,” I said, as I bounced from foot to foot.

Coach held up his hands, and I began my routine, starting with a few jabs to the pads.

“In the bag as long as you stay focused. No distractions.”

“How many times are you going to say that?” I ask, as I land a spinning back kick.

“Until I actually believe you’re listening to me.”

“I’m listening,” I said, just as my phone rang.

I held my finger up, and Coach threw his hands up. “See what I fucking mean!” he bitched.

“Calm down, old man, before you give yourself a heart attack.”

I picked up my phone and answered it. “Talk to me, Paul,” I said.

“So, turns out it wasn’t an unpaid bill. She disconnected the number.”

“Why the fuck would she do that?” A million thoughts ran through my head. Was there a guy at work harassing her? I’d fucking kill him. My fist clenched at my side as the thought became a very real possibility. She’d want to deal with it herself. Too proud to admit she needed help. Or maybe it was something completely different. Either way, I was going to find out. “Do me a favor. Stay on her. Find out what you can.”

“Will do,” Paul said, and I hung up.

I turned back to Coach, and held my hands up. He stood in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest. His arms were still ripped, and strong with muscle, considering he was getting up there in age.

“Let’s do this,” I said.

“Oh, you mean, you’re ready for me now? I feel so honored,” he exaggerated, holding his hand to his chest.

“I got it,” I said. “Sorry. I just had to take care of something. Now, you have my undivided attention.”

“Good, and I better have it for the next twenty-four hours. Don’t need you going and getting your ass arrested again.”

“Low blow,” I said. “And, besides, Sebastian’s legal team took care of it just like I knew they would.”

“You were lucky,” Coach scoffed. “Now, shut that fucking phone off and let’s get to work.”

“Done,” I said, and powered it off.

“Now, do I have your full attention?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I answered, and tapped our fists to seal the promise. Now, I just had to find a way to keep Mila from popping in and out of my thoughts.

Mila

I cooked dinner, and left it on the counter for Mackenzie who was hiding in her room. Every day, she came home and went right to her bedroom, slamming the door in her wake. You’d think she’d get tired of the fucking charade by now, but there was no sign of her letting up.

I knocked on her door, but she didn’t respond. Not that I expected her to. She never did. “Dinner’s on the counter!” I yelled into the door. Whether she heard me or not, I knew damn well the food would be gone by the time I got home tomorrow.

It was getting late, and I needed to head out. So, I grabbed my bag and made my way past old man Simpson on the steps. He lifted his head from his lap as I passed, and gave his best attempt at a wave. Before I could lift my own hand, his head was back in his lap.

I got to work, and scanned the parking lot. I’d been lucky in being able to avoid Knox, but I was scared he would show up here. I might not have been pregnant, the test confirmed it, and I got my period that night, but it was the reminder I needed. Happily ever after didn’t exist for me. I was foolish to pretend for even a second that it did. Knox deserved better. Not some twenty-five-year-old stripper who ruined her life a long time ago.

Carmine stood at the door, and I patted him on the chest as I walked by. “There was some guy here earlier, looking for you.”

“Knox?” I asked, knowing I didn’t need an explanation. All the guys knew who Knox was. They were big fans, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they had pictures of him in their lockers. 

“Nope, some other guy,” Carmine said. “Tall, lanky thing with dark hair. Wouldn’t give his name. I eventually kicked him out.”

“Thanks, Carmine. I appreciate that.” 

“You let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” I said and went inside.

Ariana caught up to me as I made my way toward the back. She linked her arm through mine, and fell in sync with me. “Carmine tell you about that guy?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “Did you talk to him?”

“No, I was handling a booze delivery when he came in. I heard about it from the girls. Tammy said he asked her your schedule, and if you’d been out at all.”

“Was he a client?”

“She didn’t seem to think so, but she’s not exactly the brightest crayon in the box, so who knows. Carmine and the other guys have been briefed, and will walk you to your car at the end of the night. I’m sure it’s nothing, but, with all the creeps out there, you can never be too careful, you know?”

“Right,” I said and, more than ever, I missed Knox. I didn’t get scared easily, but I also didn’t like someone going around asking about me, especially if I didn’t know who it was and what he or she wanted. I always felt safe with Knox. I thought about calling him, but the thought quickly left my mind. It was time I moved on. There was no use holding on.

So, I took a deep breath, sat down at my vanity, and opened up my makeup case. It was time to say goodnight to Mila and hello to Starr.

Knox

It was the morning of my fight. Coach told me to take it easy, as if I hadn’t been doing this for years, and still needed him to tell me what to do. For once, I should have taken his advice, but I couldn’t. Not when I couldn’t get in touch with Mila. Something wasn’t right, and I kept missing her at her place. With her phone being disconnected, I couldn’t call or text her. I was losing my fucking mind.

I had been tempted to go to the club more than once, but I was advised by Sebastian’s lawyers to avoid strip clubs for a while until the dust settled. Paul was on the case. I just needed to make sure she wasn’t in trouble. Once I knew she was safe, it would help give me peace of mind. At least until I could pin her down and talk to her.

As if Paul was reading my mind, my phone rang. “Paul, talk to me,” I said.

“So, I went to the place she works at, but no one was talking. I could barely even get her schedule.”

I wasn’t surprised. Some random guy asking about one of their girls, I’m sure didn’t bode well.

“I wasn’t sure what you were looking for, so I went all in. She dropped out of school her senior year, a shame since she was a straight A student. According to old social media accounts that have been since deactivated, she speaks fluent German, and grew up in California.”

I was happy to know at least one thing about her. A straight-A student and she dropped out. I wondered if it was because of what happened to her parents. If she had no choice but to put her sisters needs before her own.

“Did you find out anything about her parents?”

“Her father lived in Germany until he was twelve, which is probably why she can speak the language. Parents married twenty-six years ago and died on the same day nine years ago. Car accident.”

I knew Mila’s parents were dead, but hearing it broke my heart for her. “Anything else?” I asked.

“Her parents weren’t the only ones who died in that accident. A thirteen year old boy named Matthew died, too. Report says he was her brother.”

I collapsed onto the couch as the words sunk in. Her brother. Mila had a brother? She never really spoke about her parents, but she mentioned them enough. But, she never mentioned a brother. Ever. I would have remembered that. Losing a parent is heartbreaking. Losing two? Unimaginable. But losing a sibling… There were no words, and it was loss I knew all too well.

“Thank you, Paul,” I said.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked.

I didn’t know what I was expecting to turn up when I had Paul look into Mila, but it definitely wasn’t this. And, now I felt guilty for going behind her back and finding out something that she clearly wanted to keep to herself.

“No, that’ll be all. Thanks.”

I hung up the phone, and fell back into the cushions. I had to defend my title in a few hours, but there was no way I was getting in that cage without answers. I might have felt guilt for snooping, but, now that I knew the truth, I couldn’t let it go. I needed to know more. I needed to know why Mila never spoke about her brother. Why Mackenzie never brought it up either. She was always so quick to make me feel uncomfortable. The way she had blurted out that their parents were dead that first night I had come over for dinner, you’d think she would have mentioned a brother, too.

Then again, Zoey wasn’t exactly my favorite topic. I didn’t want to forget about her, but talking about her was so hard. I could understand not wanting to, but how did they still talk about their parents? It just didn’t make sense.

I needed answers, and the only way I was going to get any was showing up and giving Mila no choice but to talk to me.

My phone buzzed, and I looked at the screen. It was a text from Sebastian.

Sebastian: Just landed. I’ll see you at the fight.

Marco: I’m already here. Meet me in the lobby of the Bellagio.

Julius: I’ll be there in twenty. Start the celebration early before Knox makes us all that much richer!

I didn’t respond. For the first time, my friends and my career were the last things on my mind.

I raced over to Mila’s but, when I pulled into the parking lot, her car was nowhere to be found. I didn’t let it deter me. I was a man on a fucking mission. If I had to sit in her fucking apartment until she showed up, then I was going to fucking sit there because it was becoming clear that she was avoiding me. The question was, why?

Old man Simpson was sprawled out on the second floor landing, so I stepped over him. I banged on Mila’s door, knowing damn well Mackenzie had to be home. It was early on a Saturday, and I’m sure she was still sleeping, so I pounded a little harder still.

The door flung open and Mackenzie stood there, annoyance and aggravation evident in her eyes. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail, and she had day old makeup smudged around her lids. “Mila’s not home,” Mackenzie snapped, and went to slam the door in my face when I held my hand up, stopping it.

“I actually want to talk to you,” I said.

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“That’s just too fucking bad,” I said and pushed my way in.

Mackenzie rolled her eyes, and stormed off toward her room. “I held up my end of the bargain. I quit the club. I got a job at the mall, and I’ve been going to school. So, we have
nothing
to talk about.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” I said, but she didn’t stop to hear me out. I followed her and stood in the doorway as she plopped her ass on her bed.

“Then, why are you here? To tell me to be nicer to my sister? Because it’s not going to fucking happen.”

She was so young, yet the hostility she possessed was that of someone who had lived a thousand lives. I pitied her. Bitterness was going to get her nowhere in life.

“I’m not here to lecture you. But I’m keeping your secret for you, and now I need you to help me out.”

“What do you want?”

I was hoping you would answer a few questions for me.

She pulled her legs under her and shrugged. “Fine.” She blinked her green eyes up at me. “What do you want to know?”

Mila

It was another long night at the club. Two bachelor parties, a bachelorette party and a few regulars had me going the entire eight hours. My feet were throbbing, and I couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and wash the night down the drain. Then, coffee. Coffee would be good.

I pushed the door open, and heard voices coming from Mackenzie’s room. I didn’t care if we weren’t talking. I told her time and again that she wasn’t allowed to have people over when I wasn’t home.

This was the last thing I felt like dealing with. I wish I could just ignore it. Pretend like I didn’t care, or didn’t hear anything, but I couldn’t. Whether I liked it or not, I had to put my mom hat on.

I go toward the room, making sure not to trip over my heels, and am about to storm in when a familiar voice stops me dead in my tracks. What the fuck is he doing here? And, why is he in Mackenzie’s bedroom. Didn’t he have a fight tonight? I didn’t want to think the worst, but my mind ran rampant with a million different thoughts.

Anger built inside of me, and I was about to take it out on Knox, when Mackenzie said the name we promised each other we would never speak again. Matthew. His name was like a punch to the gut. It knocked the wind right the fuck out of me.

“Mila,” Mackenzie said, and Knox spun around. I didn’t even notice him.

“You promised,” I breathed, trying to get my wits about me. “We both swore we’d never mention that name again. Ever!”

“I’m sorry,” Mackenzie said, and it seemed genuine, but it was too late. The memories crashed into me, reminding me how horrible I truly was.

“Mila,” Knox reached out to me, but I backed away. I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t deserve to be touched.

The room suddenly felt incredibly small. The temperature so hot I could barely breathe. I needed to get away. I backed up and took off.

Pain flooded my heart as tears spilled down my cheeks.

“Mila!” Knox calls out to me, but I keep running.

I forgot about old man Simpson lying across the stairs, and my heel smacks his shoulder, knocking me off balance. A strong hand grabbed me, and kept me from falling. I knew it was Knox, but I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to.

“Mila, talk to me,” he said, and his voice was so soft and tender. It would be easy to turn back to him. To let him wrap me up in his arms, as I poured my heart out to him. But, I was defiant in the fact that he deserved better than me. He deserved a girl who he could be proud to have on his arm. He was a celebrity after all. He didn’t need to explain about some stripper.

I was no good. I was broken and beyond repair. There was not enough glue and tape in the world to fix me. Hearing my brother’s name reminded me of that. He was dead, and it was all my fault. I didn’t deserve happiness because I didn’t even deserve to live. The only reason I bothered to continue was because of Mackenzie. I might have been a terrible mother, but I was all that girl had in this world. I let one sibling down already, and I’d be damned to do it again.

“Mila, please,” Knox pleaded, but I kept walking.

I got to my car, and realized my keys were still inside. I pulled on the handle, but it was locked. I kept pulling and pulling, hoping by some miracle it would pop open. Knox rested his hand on mine, stopping me.

He brushed my hair off my neck, and I fought back the tears threatening to come out. It was so easy to get lost in his touch. To hear his voice and want to collapse against him. Press my lips to his and watch as everything faded away. He was my undoing, and, if I didn’t push him away, I was afraid of what would happen.

“I know how it feels to lose a sibling.”

I took a deep breath, and turned to him with as much rage as I could muster. “No, you don’t!”

“I lost my sister. My twin sister, Zoey”

I could see the heartache in his eyes. Hear the crack in his voice when he said her name. But I pretended like I didn’t.

“How’d she die?” I asked.

He was quiet for a moment. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Cancer.”

Cancer. He didn’t beg his sister to go somewhere in place of him. He didn’t send her on the road to her death. “Everyone dies of cancer. Big fucking deal,” I spat before running off. I turned back, briefly, just enough time to see the utter disgust forming on his face.