RR&R 01 Real (22 page)
Say Anything
, but the song is called “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel.
Damn.
Him.
my
woman’s cave, where nobody’s opinion matters but mine. And I say we go at it all night long and that’s that.
As I pass through, I see a silver-haired man and a woman through the corner of my eye, and suddenly they call me.
Young girl! Please, won’t you let us talk to him?”
When I step forward, the tall, slender, frail-looking woman rushes to tell me, her face pale and her sullen eyes a dark chocolate, “We didn’t know what to do. He felt abandoned but he was too strong and nobody could control him, least of all me.”
My brain processes her words in silence, and while it does, I stare at them and remain standing behind Pete.
Again, I’m really sorry,” Pete formally replies. “But even if he weren’t busy, there’s no way I can get him to see you. But please rest assured I will make contact if that ever changes.”
And finally my mind speaks to me. “Are those Remy’s parents?” I ask, bewildered and shocked.
Suddenly I realize his father’s blue eyes are unmistakable in color, and although white-haired, the man had incredibly large and healthy bone structure.
Pete nods and rubs his forehead, appearing extremely agitated. “Yeah. They’re the folks, all right.”
Why won’t Remy see them?”
“
Because the bastards locked him up in a psych ward at thirteen and
left him
there until he was old enough to sign himself out.”
An awful sensation settles in my gut, and for a moment, the only thing I do is gape. “A psych ward? For
what
? Remy’s not crazy,” I say, instantly outraged on his behalf as I follow Pete across the living room.
“
Don’t even look at me. It’s one of the most frustrating injustices I’ve ever had to witness in my life.”
He shakes his head in a negative, his stride not breaking. “Remy has a short fuse. You light it, he blows up. His competition wanted him out. Picked on him out of the ring. He bit the bait. Was kicked out. End of story.”
Well, is he still angry about it?”
He’s angry, all right, but not specifically about that,” Pete says. “Fighting is all he knows. It’s all he’s had that he can control in his life. Growing up, it was pure rejection for Rem. It’s damn near impossible to get him to open up. Even with those who’ve been with him so long.”
“
How do you think his parents knew where we were? I thought this house was to keep the press away since the egg incident?”
“
Because this is Rem’s house,” Pete says as I spot the charming red barn looming ahead across the lawns. “After he got out, he made money fighting, then he got this house, trying to prove to the old folks that he could be someone … The folks still didn’t want anything to do with him. He got stuck with the house and now only uses it when we’re in the city to keep the press from hounding him at the hotels. He has
a lot
of fans in Austin.”
I feel shot at from all sides with this information. Pure undiluted outrage for young Remy fills me to my core, making me sound breathless. “What kind of parents abandon their child like they did, Pete? And why on earth would they look for him
now
?”
I nod and squeeze back his elbow. “I won’t. Thanks for the confidence.”
Hey, B, you might try stretching him, his form’s not ideal. Coach thinks it’s a lower back knot,” Riley calls.
Coach isn’t happy with your form and Riley thinks I can help,” I say, and as I watch this lean, mesmerizing creature keep slamming the speedball with both rolling fists, a deep, concentrated frown on his face, I can’t help but admire what Remington has made with himself despite the rejection he faced when he was younger.
“
Remy?” I prod.
Will you let me stretch you?” I go on.
He tilts his body yet again and gives me all his gorgeous back, and keeps on hitting like mad
.
I want to touch him, especially after everything Pete told me, so I drop the elastic band at my feet, for now the last thing I want is anything between him and me.
“
Are you going to answer me, Remy?” My voice drops as I step closer, reaching out with one arm.
I touch his back. He stiffens, drops his head, and whips around, removes his boxing gloves, and tosses them aside. “Do you like him?” His whisper is low, his touch gentle as he reaches out and puts his taped hand right where Pete touched me. “Do you like it when he touches you?” But his eyes, dear god. They blaze into me. His hand is double the size of Pete’s and doing all things to my body.
I stare into him, butterflies exploding in my belly, and whatever it is we’re playing, I want it to go on endlessly, but I want it to stop. There’s something incredibly animal about the way he acts around me that brings out the deep-rooted instincts from within.
You have no right to me,” I say in breathless anger.
My cheeks burn red at the reminder. “I’m still not yours,” I shoot back. “Maybe you’re afraid I’m too much of a woman for you?”
I asked you a question, and I want an answer. Do you fucking like it when other men touch you?” he demands.
“
No
, you jerkwad, I like it when
you
touch me!”
More than I want to,” I snap back, panting and breathless because of him.
”
Do you like it enough to let me caress you in bed tonight?” he asks tersely. My skin tingles, and between my legs, I’m growing incredibly warm. His pupils are completely enlarged with hunger.
“
I like it enough to let you make love to me.”
“
No. Not make love.” He tightens his jaw and stares at me with tormented blue eyes. “Just touching. In bed. Tonight. You and me. I want to make you come again.” He watches me, a question in his expression. I feel his dark temper roiling underneath the surface in frustration. There’s a need in me that wants to appease it … but I
can’t
follow it.
I want to touch him so bad, I just can’t understand why
he
can resist the call and not take me. I can’t stand a night in his arms without going all the way.
My
way.” He buries his face in my neck and scents me, and his tongue flashes out to lick my ear. He groans and jerks my chin up so our eyes meet. “I’m taking it slow for you. Not me.”
This is growing old, and I’m quickly losing interest. Let’s just stretch you.” I go to his back, and he jerks free as if I’d sliced him with a knife.
“
Don’t fucking bother. Go stretch Pete.”
Marching out with a fierce scowl, I tell Riley, “He doesn’t want me.”
Understatement of the century, girl,” he says, rolling his sad surfer-boy eyes
.
For now, I’ve let myself be swept into the magic of the fights, and I find myself watching all the contenders more avidly than I ever have before, if only to try to see their fighting strategies in case they final and have to face Remington.
no one
that fights like
he
does. Remy fights like he loves it. He has a blast up on the ring, and makes it appear like he’s a lion, and his opponent a mouse, and he’s just playing with it. He jumps up and down sometimes, and makes the crowd participate sometimes when he clinches his opponent, and then lets go and points at him as if asking, “Do you all want me to beat this asshole’s face in?”
When he was announced tonight, the Austin crowd went wild, most everyone present standing and hollering, and I watched with a fluttering stomach as he appeared down the pathway and climbed into the ring, and suddenly the room comes alive with him. Now banners keep waving across the room as he pounds his third opponent of the night, and he’s worn the other man so bad, it will probably end in a couple more minutes.
He’s on a roll. He’s taken out anything and everything they bring out. I haven’t really seen any of his opponents able to get a really good hit on him, his face is intact and so is his guard.
wrong
. And it makes me privately cheer for him even more. I’m so stunned from what I learned, and I just can’t picture Remington being locked up anywhere, helpless and angry. He’s a man that is strong and primitive, who knows exactly what he wants, and it enrages me to think anyone hurt him when he was younger and more vulnerable. It makes me feel fiercely protective of him, and makes me wish I’d known him sooner, as if I could have even done something to stop it.
I hear the
slam
of his KO and the screaming that follows, and my heart is already skipping in my chest as the ringmaster grabs Remy’s arms and raises it.
“
Our victor of the night, Remingtoooooooon Tate, your RIPTIDE!!”
His arm raised in victory, my breath holds in anticipation as I wait for what comes next. What he
always
does next.
