Long Shot: An MMA Stepbrother Romance (25 page)

We’re both silent as we get into the car and pull away from the hospital. I’m heading straight for my place, whether or not Josh likes it. Frank already knows where we’re staying—he’s made that perfectly fucking clear—and he already knows where I live. There’s no point in hiding now. He’s got Josh right where he wants him: injured, with little hope of winning a fight. But Josh will still enter. I know him, and I know he will. But he won’t win the purse, not with a fractured knuckle and a broken pinky finger. He might be able to pull one over on the promoters and the refs, but when it comes to delivering punches, he’ll be all fucked up.
 

I’ve seen him fight enough to know that much for sure.
 

Frank has already accomplished exactly what he wanted, even if he did lose a fighter in the process. It doesn’t matter to that kind of man who he loses. Desperate, rock-bottom, grabbing on to any opportunity for power and refusing to let go. I pull up to the stoplight that leads to the causeway, and I tap my fingers against the steering wheel. There’s a pang in my chest when I look over at Josh, and it feels like my heart might stop for a moment.
 

“What were you thinking, Josh? Frank wouldn’t have hurt me.” The words come out all wrong. I wonder if this is how Josh feels, like all the time.
 

“How in the hell do you know that?” He knits his eyebrows together when he looks at me, like he’s contemplating what an idiot I truly am.

“He told me as much. That’s why he had the damn tape over my mouth. He said he didn’t want to risk getting in trouble with the police over a ‘nice girl that everyone would be looking for.’ But that fucking guy—”

“Light’s green, Nat.” I scowl and press my foot down on the accelerator. The car growls and lurches forward onto the bridge, and the sound changes beneath us. The asphalt is textured, and driving over it sounds almost melodic. For once, I look forward to reaching the island. I look forward to going home, to sinking into the sofa and pouring a big glass of wine.
 

“Listen, Josh. He
told
me that he wants you hurt. Not dead—hurt. He said it’s worse for a fighter if they’re hurt. I think he was planning to have Cole fuck you up way more. It’s a good thing the kid intervened when he did, or you’d probably be staying in the hospital for a week or more, with no chance of even entering the fight.”
 

“He’s right. It is worse for a fighter if he’s hurt. But I’ll be entering anyway. And if you can’t handle that—”

“I can handle that, Josh. Just why do you think I took you to the hospital? And why am I taking you back home right now?”

“You can’t take us back home—”

“Just listen. I’m on your side, but you have to tell me everything from now on. Don’t leave out any details because you think I’m too sensitive or too weak to handle it.”

“I don’t think you’re weak, Nat. I just don’t want you involved in my shit.”

“You involved me when you stepped into my house that night. You involved me when you decided to stay with me for days on end, ignoring calls and texts from Frank and Ash. You involved me when—”

“Fine. Honesty. I owe you that, Nat. You’re right. I did involve you. There’s no turning back on that. I’m another dumb fighter—”

“Dammit Josh. You’re not dumb. You’re going to college for God’s sake, and you didn’t even tell me until a few days ago. You and Ash put money down on your own gym. You’ve got fighters lined up to come with you, small-time promoters lined up to support you. I don’t even understand why you need this money from this fight. You’ve got to tell me this shit.”

“I don’t want you involved, Natty—”

“I told you. I’m already involved, hot shot. I’m involved because you put me in this situation. And I’m involved because I love you. There, I fucking said it. I love you too, you asshole.” Josh laughs, but his body is still turned, and he’s watching the water as it speeds by.
 

“Okay, okay. I get it, Nat. You want to know why I need the fight? I need the big recruiters interested, like I said before. I need the money as savings. I fucking need to pay Ash back. And I wanted a public place to
humiliate
Frank. To announce to the world—when I win—that he’s the same thing as a slave driver, that there are
good
fighters suffering at the hands of this asshole. I was going to go to the police after that with a big-ass file I have on Frank. But you know where the file was, Natty? It was in the cottage at the Island Guest House, and I didn’t see it when I was in there looking for you. I left it right on the dresser before I ran off to your house like a fool.”

“You got copies?” I ask as I pull into the driveway of our house.
 

“I got exactly zero copies. I thought of it a million times, but I didn’t think Frank would ever find out. Turns out he knew a lot more than I thought he did, Nat. I’ve failed. We haven’t even gotten to the big fight, and I’ve already failed.”
 

I get out of the car, the wheels in my head turning. That file still exists. I barely registered it when Frank took me, but I saw him put something in the lock box by his desk when he had me tied up in the gym. I help Josh out of the car and up the steps to the house—our house, where we’ll stay until everything sorts itself out, one way or another.
 

“He’ll come back for you, Natty, even if he said he won’t. The only way to protect you is to do exactly what he says. All I’ve ever wanted to do is to protect you, Natalie. But now I can’t, not unless I bend to him. And that ain’t the man that I am.”
 

“It’s all about figuring out what kind of man you are, Josh. Who do you think you are?” He raises an eyebrow at me, and I help him onto the sofa. His white t-shirt clings to his skin, and I can see the definition of his muscles beneath the fabric. A jolt runs through me, and fuck if I don’t want him right now, even with that miserable look on his face and the splint on his broken up fingers. I sit down on the coffee table, facing him. It’s best if I’m not sitting next to him, or I might forget what I mean to say entirely.
 

“Nat, I don’t know. I’m a fighter. I guess that’s what I think of myself as.”

“What else? There’s a lot more that I see. But yeah, you’re a fighter. And from what I’ve seen, you’re a damn good one.”

“Well, I’m an asshole, too.” He laughs and looks at me for a moment, his hazel eyes looking almost gold in this light.
 

“I’m not going to deny that, hot shot. But the man I’m getting to know—the
man
—he ain’t just a fighter. He’s also gone through a damn tough recovery.”

“Lots of people do that, Natalie.”
 

“They do not, Josh. For every recovered alcoholic out there in the world, there’s ten more people having ten drinks. And you’re a student. A business owner. You’ve changed, Josh. Or, I dunno. Maybe all those things were in you, and you just didn’t see them, so no one else did either. You’re
stronger
than Frank. There’s a way to get back those files. He might not let you back in that gym to train, and he might be strongly suspicious of Ash if he came on in there. But there’s got to be other people on your side.”

“Charlie, the ref. Katy, maybe.”

“She’s at her breaking point with Frank. It’s a risk. But if it means putting him out of business for good, if it means getting him off your back for good, then you can get it done.” He nods and puts out his hand to me. For someone with such confidence and verve, it’s a strange gesture. In the bedroom, he’s been rough with me, dominant, and he’s only shown small moments of tenderness. But I take his hand and feel it for real, that beautiful thing he keeps inside of him, the thing I’ve loved ever since I first met him.
 

“We can’t risk it, Nat. Katy’s too unpredictable. She’s fucked with me before when it comes to Frank.”
 

“I know what you think of Katy, Josh. But maybe you’re not seeing her clearly. She’s—”

“No, Nat. We can’t go to Katy.” He looks down and away, though he’s still holding my hand. I squeeze it and look over to his other hand, the one that Frank ravaged just hours ago. “Trust me. We can’t.”

“Josh, she’s our only chance. Cole is gone. Ash is barred from the gym, and so are you. Katy’s the one person we might be able to convince to help us. She owes us one.”
 

“That’s because you let her stay in my apartment, Natty.” He lifts his gaze and one corner of his mouth turns up in a grin. “She may owe us, but that doesn’t mean she’ll actually deliver.” I huff and pull back my hair with my free hand.
 

“Not everything is black and white, Josh. Katy’s ready to leave. She says Frank is escalating, that he hits her on a daily basis, that he hurts the kids that he’s trying to train as fighters.”
 

Josh sighs and lifts his other hand. The flesh on the back of his hand is so bruised it’s almost black, and his fingers are swelling even under the weight of the splint. “Is this what you want? More of this? This is what Frank will do to me if I go back to that gym. I’d love to go in there and fuck him up for even touching you, but
you
don’t want me to, remember?” His smirk grows into a full-on grin, but there’s no humor in his expression. “It’s too dangerous, for both of us. It’s too risky to try to get in that gym. Frank is there, day and night. He might have gotten rid of those fucking papers by now, anyway.”

“Then what? He’ll be on your back when you start the new business, and he won’t ever leave us alone.”
 

“There’s no real guarantee that selling him out in front of everyone would do a damn bit of good. The cops might not be able to convict him, and I might just humiliate him for no goddamn good reason. If he’s escalating...” Josh grows quiet and hangs his head.
 

“What? What’s changed? I thought this plan was everything you’d been working for the past three years, Josh.”

“Everything has changed, Natalie. You’re a part of this now. And he could hurt you.” Josh purses his lips and squeezes my hand hard.
 

“I’m not here to be your weak spot, Josh. I’m here to make you stronger. I’m here to help you win it all. Goddammit, I’m just as invested in this win as you are.”

“Then let it be just the win. We can take the money and leave town.”

“Is that really what you want?” My gut grows tight, and anxiety starts to flood my body. This isn’t Josh. I’ll be damned if I’m the woman that lets him throw what he’s worked for away.
 

“Yeah, Nat. There’s a chance I could still win if I start training now.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding. Something clenches inside my chest when I look at this man, his body a well-trained machine, graceful, ready to fight. That piece of him is beautiful. I’ve seen him fight, and there’s nowhere he’s sexier than in the cage. He’s trying to leave his mind behind, to discredit the plan he’s made, and all for my sake.
 

But I’m in it now. And there has to be another way.
 

I’m an island girl who grew up in the sticks, and I’m a goddamn doctor now. Part of that was smarts, sure. But it took cunning, patience, waiting for the right opportunities and striking them hard.
 

Why should getting a handful of papers be any harder than that?
 

I smile placidly and get up to put together some dinner for the man with the broken hand.
 

At first, I told Natalie that it wouldn’t fucking work. The gym wasn’t approved for commercial use yet. But Nat’s got an answer for everything, and fronted her own money to set up the damn cage. The punching bag came from Ash, who drove thirty miles each day to come and help me train. Two weeks. That’s all we had. After nearly a month of fucking around, and getting injured over and over again, I was back. I had to be. And it couldn’t be at Frank’s. Nat injected me with cortisone three times the first week, and then once at the beginning of the second. My knuckles keep on suffering, and God help me, I’m still favoring my left goddamn side. But there’s no way in hell I’m missing the fight of my life just because Frank Martinelli wants me to. He might think I’ve dropped off the face of the earth, or he might think I’ve run away with Nat. Or he might know exactly what the fuck I’m up to. Whatever he knows, I don’t give a shit.
 

At this point, I have no fucks left to give when it comes to Frank. I’m absolutely focused on this fight. And if I have to break my hand all over again or pull my shoulder out of joint myself, I will win this fucking thing, and I will take Frank down one fucking way or another.
 

“Last cortisone shot, Josh. Tomorrow you gotta make weight, and after that you’ll be fighting. Regardless of whether I approve.” Nat hasn’t hesitated to tell me that she thinks I should wait. It’s her job as a doctor, I fucking guess. But every morning, she drags my ass out of bed, hands me a Nalgene bottle full of her secret electrolyte mix, and fixes a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and burnt toast. I haven’t had the heart to break it to her that her bacon is way too crispy, her eggs are runny, and the fucking toast is burnt to shit. I just eat it and don’t say anything, but this morning I got up before she did and took over breakfast-making duties. I think she was pleased that I was up and about, but sometimes I can’t tell whether she’s pleased or disapproving. Nat’s been taking fewer shifts though, and she’s been meeting me and Ash at the gym. She watches me fight Ash, and sometimes Summer comes along with her.