Just Go (5 page)

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Authors: M. Dauphin

BOOK: Just Go
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“I’m so happy for you, Gab. You deserve this,” I smile taking her face in my hands and kiss her forehead. A quick peck that I’ll give her sometimes when she’s down or really needs one.

It’s the truth, too. I am happy for her. She’s found something she wants to do and is actually excited about it. Last night she seemed like she was completely unhappy with her life, which bummed me out. Gab worked so hard to get to where she is now. All she has to do is pass the BAR and she’s a full-blown lawyer. She can do it. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever known.

“We should celebrate!” she yells, then hops off the bed and runs for her phone.

“Oooh... three nights in a row, Gab? You sure our wallets can take that?” I groan inwardly, dreading the thought of having to go out again for the third night in a row. I feel like an old lady, but tonight all I want to do it sit at home in my pajamas.

She looks at me, holding her phone in her hand, about to text the group to meet up somewhere. Her eyes go to her phone then back to me. I smile sweetly, hoping that maybe she’s considering staying in. I hope so. She’s my best friend so I’ll have to go out with her if she decides she wants to.

“Will you buy me Chinese food?” she asks skeptically. Sneaky little bastard. She knows I hate Chinese food.

“If I do, are you gonna bitch all night about not going out?” Because she would.

“As long as you promise not to bitch that you’re bored once we start
The Notebook
for the thousandth time.” She’s grinning at me. The dork picked two things I’m very open about disliking.

If it means I can put my PJs on though, I’m game.

“Deal, whore,” I say as I smile, holding my hand out to shake hers in agreement.

And now the daunting task of finding something that I’m going to enjoy for dinner.

She’s lucky I love her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

Adam

She actually walked out. Like she wasn’t impressed at all by the fact that I have a penthouse.

Honestly, I don’t think she was. I’m not certain I’ve ever seen such a look of disgust from a woman that I was about to fuck. Well shit. She might have actually been offended by that.

She’s fucking nuts if so.

Every woman—married, single, moms, grandmas, babysitters—is looking for a chance with me. With Mr. Chicago. The man behind the biggest start-up in Chicago. The man whose law firm helped get that one chick out of her murder charge, even though it was painfully obvious she was guilty.

I take a moment to collect myself, knowing fully that if I walk back out there right now I’ll be sporting more than just a scowl on my face. Who does she think she is? Other than the first woman ever to turn me down, she’s just a teacher. Really, she’s not even that yet. She just finished school. A Goddamn student, and I fucked her. Not only that, I was more than willing to fuck her again in the public bathroom of this hole in the wall place my parents call a restaurant. I look around the small room, cringing when I see the discoloration of paint on the wall behind the toilet, the dirt collected around the sink handles. Is this really what people call clean and healthy? There’s probably shit all over this room, and I almost fucked her in it.

Well... good thing she turned me down I guess.

After a few minutes, my dick finally decides to stand down and I can make my way back to my table. I approach slowly and take in the company. My sister Cara, beautiful in her own right, smiling at me through her dark bangs and gorgeous (yet fake) eye color. Next to her is my aunt Grace, my Uncle Tom, their two children Jen and Jane, and on the other side of the long table sits my parents. Everyone’s conversations stop as I return to the table, all eyes on me. Mr. Fucking Chicago.

“Adam, dear, are you feeling okay? You were in there an awful long time,” my mother croons as she brings her wine glass to her bright pink lips and takes a sip, leaving a lipstick ring on the side of her glass.

“I’m fine, Mother. I had to step out and take a call while I was up. I do have a business to run, you know,” I say sweetly, adding in that I will need to be heading out soon.

“Great, you can take me with you. I need to meet some of my girlfriends at Marties,” my sister says as she smiles a knowing smile at me.

“Leaving so soon after dinner, both of my children. You’d think they were raised with no manners whatsoever,” my mother bitches and my aunt gasps.

“Don’t talk about your kids that way. They’re busy adults,” she glares at my parents then turns to me. “It was wonderful seeing both of you. You two have a lovely evening.”

“You do the same, Aunt Grace.” I kiss her on the cheek, shake my uncle’s hand, and nod a goodbye at my cousins.

My father stands and pats me on the back while saying his goodbye. My mother stands stiffly while I hug her goodbye, my sister following my lead. She’s not one to push limits with my parents like I am. I know how controlling my mother can be, though, so I’m constantly trying to push back to keep her in place.

Once we finally make it to my car, Cara slides into the leather seat and sighs.

“So—” she starts but I stop her.

“Home. You’re going home. What you do after that is up to you, but I have things I need to take care of tonight.”

I look over and she’s transformed into a pouting child. Arms crossed, bottom lip jutting out, everything she used to do as a kid when she didn’t get her way.

“Bug, you have to go home. I can’t take you with me tonight,” I warn.

“You know I’ll just find my own way,” she chides, sitting up straighter in her seat than she was. She buckles her seatbelt and stares out her window.

“Tonight’s not a good night, Bug. You know I’d take you with me if I could, but... I can’t tonight.”

My sister knows about the fighting ring, as her ex-boyfriend used to be a fighter for Vick before he made it big into the MMA and moved to Vegas. I don’t worry about her going to the fights with me, but I do worry about her going to the fight tonight. Whatever that phone call I received earlier was, I have a strange feeling it’s trouble. I couldn’t live with myself if she were hurt because of something I was involved in. It’s useless telling her about the threat. She’d do everything in her power to keep me from going tonight; I wouldn’t put it past her to get my parents involved if it meant keeping me safe. She’s that type of little sister.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

We’re stopped at a red light in the middle of the city when she turns to me and smiles.

“The chick with the legs. The one you followed into the bathroom. Who was that? She looked familiar,” she says as she cocks her head at me and grins. Her mention of Annaliese makes my palms clam up immediately and my heart rate rise.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grind out.

She laughs hard, shaking her head. My sister’s always had a way of reading my mind, sometimes before I even know what I was thinking.

“You can’t keep your dick in your pants long enough to sit through a family dinner.”

“Knock it off, Bug. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feel my anger rising the longer she laughs at me.

“Jesus, women like her disgust me. One look from ‘Mr. Chicago’ and they lose all morals. Whore—“

“I said knock it off!” I yell at her, my voice booms through the car.

The light has turned green but I’m not moving the car like I should be. I hear the horns and people yelling at me, but I can’t stop my hands from shaking. She’s not a whore. She’s not a bitch. She has morals.

Why am I defending her? I don’t defend the women I fuck.

“Well okay,” my sister says dejectedly. Looking out her window she adds, “You were never that passionate about your wife while married.” Then she turns back to look at me, “Are you hiding something from me, A?”

I sigh and shake my head, blinking my eyes a few times to regain composure.

“No. I’m not hiding anything. Tonight’s fight isn’t the place for you to be. There are things in place tonight that could get ugly.”

“Did you finish the deal with Vick?”

“Yes, but there were things he requested on his end. I need to be there to keep an eye on my fighter. I won’t be able to keep an eye on you, so you need to stay away.”

“Fine. Done. Just stop being an uptight ass. You’re no fun when you’re moody.”

I smile at her. The only girl that can make me smile when I’m on the edge of exploding from all of these damn feelings running through me. My little sister and I grew up best friends, and after we connected again after college we were right back at it. Always talking, telling each other everything. She’s got a great big brother in me, but I’m the lucky one. She tries her hardest to keep me grounded, and sometimes it actually sticks.

I drop her off at her apartment, hugging her goodbye, and wait to pull away until she’s safely inside with the doors locked. Sure she’s probably going back out again tonight, but at least I did my job of getting her home safe.

Moving my car back into traffic, I turn on Bluetooth and dial Benton. It goes straight to voicemail, but since it’s an hour to fight time I’m assuming he’s already warming up. I try his work cell but it’s turned off. Great.

Finding my way through the city to the North side, I park my car and pray that my baby stays safe while I’m in this basement. These fights have to be in warehouses or basements in the bad part of the city due to crowd control and not as many eyes watching out for illegal things, since there’s a lot more than illegal fighting happening here. People up here mind their own business and don’t try to ruin others' days for the hell of it. Not like the rich part of the city, where one bad look can cause you to get sued.

Walking to the address a few blocks away from where I parked, I notice a few other people milling about, but don’t make eye contact. If they’re here for the fight, they are just nervous to get inside before they are seen. If they’re not here for the fight, they’re probably going to hit me up for money, something I definitely don’t do.

“Maynard Bastille,” I say the password quietly to the man standing by the door. He looks around then nods and opens the door, letting me quietly slip inside before quickly shutting it behind me.

It’s pitch-dark in here, but I’ve been to this location before so I know where I’m going. Heading down the hallways I make my way to the stairs and start my descent. A few seconds later, I round the corner in the basement to lanterns lighting the hallway to the fight room. The doors swing open and I’m greeted by the familiar rush of violence and money. Smiling at the doormen, I make my way to my seat ringside and wait for the fight to start. I have no need to get involved with the betting since mine is all done through the man himself; all I have to worry about is my fighter winning.

When the fighters are introduced, Benton comes out second and looks scared shitless. I perk up in my seat seeing him have this look. He’s not a scared man. He’s built. He’s strong. He doesn’t lose. Why would he look like he’s afraid for his life?

Oh shit.

He probably got the phone call too. Dammit! Why didn’t I tell him about it? I was so wrapped up thinking about Annaliese that I had completely forgotten about warning him until it was too late.

Shit!

There’s nothing I can do about it now but pray that he makes eye contact with me and I can somehow relay to him that throwing the fight is a bad idea. Once the round starts, my fears are confirmed as he takes double the amounts of hits that he’s throwing out. Typically I sit back and watch silently at these fights; watch the money flow in. Losing two grand isn’t going to kill me, hell that’s pocket change; it’s the fact that whoever needs him to lose tonight didn’t sound like the type of person to stop after one threat. We can’t back down and let this person win.

As soon as the first round’s up I run to the cage behind Benton. He’s sweating, bleeding from multiple points on his face, and the bruises on his ribs are starting to darken.

“Sorry, man, he’s too good,” he gasps.

“Fuck that. You got the same call I did, I see it in your eyes. Don’t let him fucking do that. You’re better than this, B. We can’t let this person think they’re in charge,” I growl at him, pissed that he gave in that easily. He pushes his aid helpers back and leans closer to the fence, closer to me.

“He threatened my adoption, A. I have to.” His eyes are so sad, so pitiful, that rage fills me.

“Fuck no you don’t! Don’t forget who I am! I can get you whatever you want, B. Don’t let them run you!”

His eyes focus in on mine and something clicks. Like he hadn’t yet thought that I’d be able to help him if he asked.

“Money talks, B. Take this asshole down.”

He nods quickly and the bell rings. Not four seconds into the second round he’s on his opponent like he has a score to settle. Within the first minute, he has him pinned and the ref is calling it. My jaw is tight and I nod slightly at him as I walk to the bar to grab us a drink.

“What’ll it be, Mr. Chicago?” Bart, the regular bartender asks as he wipes a glass and puts it away.

“Scotch on the rocks. Two of ‘em,” I say, then throw a twenty in the tip jar. He smiles and thanks me, handing me our drinks.

I pass by a few of Vick’s men and notice them staring me down. That’s interesting. Taking mental note of their faces, I keep on my way to Benton, sitting on the side of the raised fighting platform getting his wounds tended to.

“You look like shit, man,” I say handing him his drink.

“You should see the other guy.”

I shake my head and wait for them to finish up with him. We sit in silence as the bandages are placed and cream applied. He really does look like shit. Jesus.

“Carly’s gonna be pissed.

“Dude, she’s always pissed lately. I don’t know, this whole baby thing has been terror for our relationship,” he admits dejectedly.

“Stop. She loves you. What she’s not gonna love is your face looking like that.”

“I know. I’m hoping it goes down before our next adoption meeting.”

I nod and we sit for a few minutes, watching the crowd disperse. I notice the men from earlier still staring at me, but no one makes a move towards us.

“So, what’d they say to you?” he asks as he moves the ice to another spot on his face.

“Just that it’d be best for everyone if you lost.”

“Yeah, man. They told me that too. They also told me they knew about the adoption and winning would throw a huge wrench in my plans to ever have a family.”

“Dude, don’t. You guys will get your family,” I stand and pat his shoulder. “I’m making sure of it. I’ll have your winnings tomorrow in the office.”

He nods at me and I walk away.

Passing by the men from earlier, none of them speak, but all of them keep their eyes on me until I’m out of the building. As soon as my face hits the outside air my phone buzzes.

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