Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Fury
X anthe opens the door, and I smile with relief. “Thank fuck. You have no idea how close I was to kicking your door in.”
I frown as she steps out onto the path, closing the door behind her. She’s acting odd, like she doesn’t want me here, and then I allow my eyes to take in the shirt she’s wearing. It’s a man’s shirt. “Well, as you can see, I’m fine,” she says, sounding breezy yet panicked.
I pull the shirt up slightly, and she bats my hands away. “Naked,” I note. “It’s a man’s shirt. Jesus, Xanth, tell me he’s not still in there.”
“We talked,” she whispers, staring at the ground.
“Oh my god, he’s in there, asleep in your fucking bed?” Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she nods. “What happened to breaking it off?” I hiss.
“We’re taking it slow, and we’re not exclusive or anything.”
I’m already backing down the path. “You’ll regret it.”
“I might not.”
“I know him, Xanthe. I know some of his dirty secrets, and I’m telling you, this is a mistake.”
“I can walk away at any time,” she argues.
I scoff, shaking my head in amusement. “If you believe that, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”
I hit the gym hard. There’s no way I can sleep right now while I’m so angry. Not now I know she’s with him. Of all the men in the fucking world, how the hell did she end up with him?
I get back to the club two hours later and manage to sleep for a few hours before sunrise, and then I hit the gym again before heading to Donnie’s place, surprised when I find him there. He looks happy, which pisses me off further. “I was thinking of moving your boxing match to one of my better clubs,” he tells me.
“Why?”
“Because I’d like to make it more of an event rather than an underground match. I can make much more on the betting side of things if I hold a legit match. I’ll invite some of my bigger clients, but be warned, there will be all members of society there, including police officers.”
“I don’t think your bent coppers will care where the match is as long as they get to see some blood.”
He arches a brow. “You know, if you play nice, I will reward you very well.”
I scoff. “I just wanna pay this debt off and be on my way.”
He grins. “Take the day to rest or work out or whatever you fighters do. I don’t need you. I have a hot date.”
“With the nurse?” I ask.
He grins wider. “Yes. She’s falling for my charm.”
“I didn’t think a guy like you would want to be tied down.”
“What can I say, she turned my head,” he says, winking before heading off into his office.
Chevy is leaning in the kitchen doorway. “He’s got it bad.”
“Seems so,” I mutter.
“He’s got big hopes for you at the fight tonight,” he adds. “Don’t let him down.” And then he goes back into the kitchen.
I head back to the clubhouse, stopping by Axel’s office. “Where the fuck have you been?” he demands.
“Donnie,” I say as way of explanation.
“Oh yeah, what’s he up to?”
I shrug. “Not much. He’s moving the fight from the underground club to a legitimate setting.”
“Why?”
“Reckons he’ll make more money that way seeing as he’s not fixing it.”
“Do you know who you’re fighting?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t care. I’ll beat him.”
He laughs. “That’s what I like to hear.”
The club Donnie is using for the match is upmarket. Way better than any place I’ve ever fought in before. Even the changing rooms are kitted out well.
Axel holds up the pads, and I punch them in turn, moving quickly as he backs away. The door opens, and Donnie comes in with Xanthe on his arm. I run my eyes over the shimmering white dress clinging to her curves and diamonds hanging from her ears, and I roll my eyes. It didn’t take him long to have her looking the part.
“Are you ready?” he asks, shaking hands with Axel and Grizz.
“Yep,” I mutter, turning to the punch bag instead.
Donnie steps away with Axel, and Xanthe stands awkwardly watching me. “Good luck,” she murmurs.
“Thanks.”
“Look,” she whispers, moving a step closer. “I’m fine. Honestly.”
“Good,” I mutter, hitting the bag harder.
“I don’t want us to fight about it.”
“I don’t even know you anymore,” I say, frowning in irritation. “I don’t care what you do or who you date.” I know my words hurt her because her face displays it well as she steps back and heads towards the door.
“Xanthe,” says Donnie, looking concerned.
“I need some air,” she tells him, and he places a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“I’ll come with you.”
Once they’ve gone, Grizz holds the bag still for me to hit. “What was that about?”
“Nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.”
“I used to know Xanthe,” I admit. “But Donnie doesn’t know that.”
“And you’ve met up again through him?” he asks.
“No. She was the nurse who treated me after Donnie’s men laid into me.”
“Fuck. It’s a small world. She mean anything to you?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
Fletch opens the door. “They’re ready for you,” he calls to me.
Axel hits me on the back. “Good luck, brother.”
We walk out to the ring together, my brothers behind me. A few people cheer, but most are too busy getting last-minute bets in. I climb into the ring and glance around while Axel removes my robe. I spot Xanthe in the front row with a few female friends. Donnie is at the next table with men I don’t know. He tips his head my way, a warning that I am expected to win.
I jump about and stretch my legs while the other boxer gets into the ring. He’s big, bigger than me, and I haven’t seen him before, which is concerning seeing as I’ve been working the circuit hard these last few weeks and have met most heavyweights in my league.
Axel leans close to my ear as he shoves my mouth guard in. “I wouldn’t put it past Donnie to have fixed this so you lose,” he whispers. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
The referee calls us to the middle and tells us the usual rules. Then he wipes our gloves down his shirt before signalling for us to go to our corners. The bell rings, and my mind focusses in on the beast opposite me. His footing is off, and he’s holding his left arm closer to his body like he’s in pain. As I get closer, I see faint bruising under his eyes, which means he’s fought recently, like me.
My first punch lands on his left side, right to the ribs, and he winces. I follow it quickly with two more punches, and he stumbles back. “Fuck me,” I mutter, “are you even a boxer?”
He dashes a fist towards my head, and I dodge it, ducking down and hitting him in the ribs again. He almost doubles over, and I land a couple to his head. I back him to the ropes, caging him in the corner and hitting him continuously. The crowd is loud, cheering my name as I lay into him. I glance at Xanthe, who is yelling too, making me smile. And then the bell rings, and I head back to my corner.
Xanthe
“I thought you hated violence,” says Jorja, laughing as I lower back into my seat.
I laugh too. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Bloodlust,” says Julianna. “It sends women into a frenzy.”
“Especially when the guy fighting looks as good as that,” adds Jorja.
I glance over to Donnie’s table to make sure he’s not listening. “Remember what I said,” I whisper.
“Relax, he’s not paying any attention,” says Julianna. “How much of a coincidence is that?” she asks. “Your ex working for your new man.”
“He isn’t my new man,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And can I class Fury as an ex? We were teenagers.”
“How old exactly?” asks Jorja.
I shrug. “Fourteen until we were about sixteen.”
“Two years?” she hisses, her eyes wide with surprise.
“We weren’t actually fooling around until we were fifteen, so maybe nine months at a push,” I argue. “And again, we were just kids.”
“You had sex,” says Jorja. “You were together.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” I say dismissively. “He’s not how I remember him.”
“Was he always so fit?” asks Julianna.
I watch the way Fury moves around the ring with grace, despite him being over six-foot and well-built. “He always loved to fight,” I say wistfully, remembering how he’d train hard in the local gym with some old guy who’d boxed for years. “It was the only time he was happy.”
“But I bet he didn’t always look like that,” says Jorja, grinning.
I take in the tattoos crawling over his thick muscles, loving the way his skin glistens under the lights. He always had a good body, but nothing compared to how he is now. “Donnie has a good body too,” I point out.
“Hey, we’re not comparing,” says Jorja innocently.
“All I’m saying is if there was a dark room and I was stuck between those two, I know I’d climb that huge fucker first,” adds Julianna, and both girls burst into laughter.
I roll my eyes, shaking my head with amusement.
There’re huge cheers from the crowd as Fury hits his opponent hard in the face, causing him to fall against the ropes. The referee gets between them, waving his arms, and Fury grins, holding both arms in the air. “What’s happening?” I ask.
“Your man just won,” says Jorja.
“He’s not my man,” I hiss.
“Good, cos if there’s an after-party, I fully intend to talk to him.”
Donnie slips his hand into mine while I’m patiently waiting at the bar. “Are you enjoying the evening?” he asks.
“Very much,” I say with a smile. “Thank you.”
“Your friends wasted no time introducing themselves to my boxer,” he says, nodding to where Fury has just stepped into the room freshly showered and is now chatting with Jorja and Julianna.
“They have no decorum,” I joke, forcing a smile, but inside, I feel a pang of jealousy.
“Let me introduce you properly,” he adds, leading me towards them before I can refuse.
“I met him already,” I say, pulling back a little.
“Not officially,” says Donnie. “Well done,” he says to Fury and holds his hand out. Fury eyes it with contempt before taking it. “You did well. I see you’ve met Xanthe’s friends, so I thought I’d introduce you to Xanthe officially,” he says, smiling back at me. “Xanthe, this is Fury. Fury, this is Xanthe.”
Fury holds out his hand, and I take it, ignoring the spark of electricity shooting up my arm at our contact. “Nice to meet you properly,” I mutter. “Well done.”
“You should get your eye checked again,” says Donnie, and I glance up to see the old cut above Fury’s eye has split open again, leaking blood down his face.
“Oh, leave it. It adds to the effect,” says Jorja with a flirtatious smile.
“I can seal it,” I offer, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
Donnie glances back, frowning. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“I’m fine,” says Fury. “It’s just a scratch.”
“That is bleeding down your face,” says Donnie stiffly. “Xanthe will look at it for you.”
I don’t miss the way Fury rolls his eyes in irritation before turning back towards the door he just came from. I follow, struggling to keep up as he marches ahead and into another room.
He grabs a first aid kit and practically throws it in my direction. I catch it, watching cautiously as he sits down. “There should be glue in there,” he mutters.
I place the kit on the bench beside him and open it, taking out a piece a gauze to wipe the cut. I hold the back of his head and press it, applying pressure to try to stop the bleeding. “Why are you mad at me?” I eventually ask.
“I’m not mad.”
“I know you,” I remind him, and he scoffs. “I know you,” I repeat more firmly, “and I know when you’re pissed.”
“Why him?” he snaps, pushing to his feet and towering over me. The gauze drops to the floor as my hand falls away from his face. “All the fucking men in London and you choose him? When you weren’t here, I could forget about you and pretend you were leading a good life,” he continues, anger radiating from him. “You were married with kids and a dog. You had a nice house,” he snaps, tapping his head, “in here.”
“I’m happy,” I whisper.
“But now, I can see that none of that is true and you’re still coasting along in life, still fucking scumbags,” he snaps. “Still making the wrong choices.”
“You’re one to talk,” I mutter.
“I never stood a chance, Xanth. My life was set to this, but yours wasn’t.”
“Which one were you, Reese, a scumbag or a wrong choice?”
“Fury,” he bellows. “My fucking name is Fury.” I can’t stop the tears as they balance carelessly on my lower lash line. “I was a wrong choice,” he hisses, “but you insisted on pursuing it, and where did that leave me, Xanth? On the first train outta there.”
I inhale sharply at his words. “You blame me?” I gasp. “They found you a permanent foster home.”
“They found out I was fucking their daughter,” he cries angrily, stepping back and gripping handfuls of his hair. “I was good enough to foster but not to be with their little girl.”
My mouth falls open, hardly believing his words. “No,” I whisper. “They found a couple who were looking to adopt a teenage boy.”
“When does that ever happen?” he yells. “You know the statistics—no one gets adopted in their teens, especially not a teenage boy.” I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I believed my parents when they sat me down and told me the social worker had found him a new home. “You believed what you wanted to believe,” he almost whispers.
“I didn’t know,” I mutter.
The door opens, and Chevy sticks his head in. “Everything okay? What’s taking so long?”
I immediately turn away and busy myself looking through the first aid bag. “I feel sick,” says Fury. “She thinks I have a concussion. I was just telling her I’m good to go.”
“You should rest,” I cut in to keep up the act.
“Just glue the eye and get back out there. Boss is getting irritated,” he mutters, leaving again.
Fury sits on the bench and tips his head back, closing his eyes. I pinch his cut together and squeeze the glue across it. Being so close to him suddenly feels too much, and when he trails a hand up the back of my leg, resting it against my backside, I inhale sharply. “I missed you,” he whispers. “I told myself that staying away was for the best, but now, I’m not so sure.” He opens his eyes, and we stare at one another. “If you’re going to date a prick, then at least choose me.”
I step back, and his hand falls away. “You don’t mean that,” I whisper.
“Every. Single. Word.”
The door opens, and Donnie storms in. “What’s going on?”
I drop the glue in the bag and zip it closed, turning to smile at Donnie. “Your fighter is stubborn,” I say, my tone teasing. “He should rest. He’s concussed.”
“He’ll be fine,” mutters Donnie, grabbing my hand. “There are people I want you to meet.” And he practically marches me out of there.