Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rage
The weeks leading up to the fight are a blur.
Luna’s period finally ended, and she seems a lot less anxious.
I’m glad she’s feeling better because I’ve been mostly focused on the fight.
Once I get in the zone, I’m pretty single-minded so I hope she isn’t too frustrated with me.
Our sex life has been off the charts, which has been amazing, but I’m looking forward to spending some quality alone time with her that has nothing to do with sex as soon as this is over.
Tonight is the dinner and auction, so Luna’s already at the venue helping Candy with all the last-minute details. She isn’t even coming back to the hotel to get ready—she brought her things with her—so I’m going to meet her there. Grim and Metal are here, and we’re going to ride over together.
I brought Metal on as unofficial security, an extra set of eyes both before and during the fight. Grim is my cornerman, the one who’ll be watching everything that goes on in the cage, making sure I have what I need during the fight, and Metal will be there too.
I don’t really need both of them, but it seems to give me credibility while simultaneously giving Metal something to focus on other than his grief.
And honestly, he doesn’t come across as physically intimidating, but he’s as tough as they come.
I’ve seen him in the gym a few times and he’s strong as fuck, especially for someone who’s six feet tall and barely a buck sixty.
“We ready for this?” Grim asks when we meet in the lobby.
“I guess.” I shrug.
“Why are you so grumpy?” Grim asks me. “You used to be psyched on fight days.”
“The last few weeks have just shown me that I left this life for a reason,” I say. “And I have other priorities. I should be focused on the job in Atlanta, not…” I wave my hand around even though I’m not referring to anything specific in the room. “…all of this.”
“One more day and it’s over,” Metal says pragmatically. “You might as well enjoy it. You know, you get to beat the shit out of someone without holding back—and you won’t get in trouble.”
I chuckle.
He has a point.
“I guess there’s that.”
We’ve started to see glimpses of the old Metal—the caring, gentle man who loved and doted on his pregnant girlfriend—and I’m hopeful he’s beginning to work through his grief.
I don’t know that there’s a timeline, but the never-ending quest to find out what happened can’t be healthy.
It was actually Daniil’s idea to bring him onto my team, so to speak, and I’m glad I did.
Grim will be focused on whether or not I’m doing okay in the fight, making sure I have water and whatnot, so it’ll be up to Metal to keep his eyes on Bronco and his team.
By the time we get to the auction gala, I’m hungry and annoyed. And the whole room is basically a smorgasbord. There’s even a fucking chocolate fountain, and my stomach growls as I watch Metal walk in that direction.
“Traitor,” I mutter.
Grim actually laughs. “Sorry?”
“You suck.”
“It’s one day. Tomorrow night, you can have all the chocolate you want.”
“It’s not the chocolate that’s calling my name,” I grumble. “That shrimp over there looks incredible.”
“You can have shrimp.”
“Not tonight.” I shake my head. “I can’t eat anything until weigh-in tomorrow.”
He rolls his eyes. “Rules are dumb.”
Now I laugh. He’s been saying that about weigh-in since the first time I had to do it.
“You can eat,” I say, shrugging.
“Not in front of you.” He shakes his head. “I feel like one of us has to show some solidarity.”
And this is why he’s my brother.
“Let’s go look at the auction items,” I say. “Luna worked hard on this aspect of the event, and maybe there’s something we can throw our money at.”
“Yeah, Allora hates that she couldn’t be here, so maybe I’ll find something for her. A spa experience or something.”
“How’s she enjoying being back in the acting world?”
“Short-term, it’s been exciting. She’s not looking to make this a thing, though. She doesn’t want to move to Atlanta, although I guess we’d make it work if there was enough money on the line. I don’t think there is for a tiny part like hers, though.”
“Would you really move to Atlanta?”
He nods. “If she needed to be there for work? Absolutely. Why not? I’d help run security on set and she’d be doing her thing. If it went on for years and years, we might have to think about what that means, but for now, I want her to follow her dreams.”
“It’s been nice seeing her get past what happened.”
“She’s worked hard in therapy. And so have I.”
“You’re still going?” I ask in surprise.
He shrugs. “Our relationship is more important than my ego. The truth is, the shit we saw in the Middle East doesn’t just go away because we will it. It actually takes work and soul-searching. And I want to be the man she deserves. Especially once we start having kids.”
“Kids…plural?”
“She’s only twenty-eight. We have time. And if she wants two or three, I’m okay with it.”
Two or three.
That seems like an astronomical number.
“I’ve only put thought into having one,” I admit. “Is that dumb? Like, I never even considered the idea of two.”
“Luna’s older and her fertility issues make everything different. You guys may only be able to have the one. If that.”
I wince.
“Don’t ever say that in front of her,” I caution.
He lifts one brow. “I’m not an idiot. Of course I wouldn’t say that to her. But you need to be realistic. And just like you’ve avoided thinking about multiple children, have you also avoided thinking that it might not happen at all?”
I scowl. “Damn, bro, what’s up with the negativity?”
“I’m talking about how you help her deal with that kind of disappointment.”
Honestly, I haven’t given it a lot of thought. I know it’s possible, but I never dwell on the negative if I can help it, I merely focus on whatever parts of said situation I can control.
“We can adopt,” I say quietly. “Get a donor egg. A surrogate. There are options for all those scenarios.”
“That’s the most important thing—making sure she understands the options and is okay with them. Even if they’re not her first choice.”
“It’s only been two months,” I say. “Her doctor told her not to start overthinking things until we’ve been trying at least a year.”
“And you’re good with that?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Do you love her?”
A year ago, I would have done everything in my power to avoid answering that question, regardless of the woman in my life.
With Luna, I don’t even hesitate. “Yeah, I do. She’s…everything.” It feels weird saying something like that out loud but Grim just smiles. Like he gets it.
“It’s kind of cool when you feel that way, right?” His eyes meet mine and we don’t have to say anything else. We’ve always understood each other, and this is no different.
“Hey, look at this.” He switches gears so fast it takes me a moment to catch up. “A Girls’ Trip package. Five days and four nights at this place in San Diego. Spa treatments, wellness activities, and day trips that include wine tasting. The girls would love this.”
We grin at each other and then speak at the same time—“Christmas.”
Then we laugh.
“You put your bid down now,” he suggests. “Then, when you get busy, I’ll keep an eye on it and make sure we put in the winning bid. You have a number you absolutely won’t go over?”
I shrug. “I mean, I’m not paying a hundred grand for a spa weekend—we can just pay for it at that point, but no. Any reasonable number, go for it.” I write my name and a hefty bid amount, along with my email and phone number.
“Oh, man.” Grim makes a face. “Look at this—a driving experience with Limbo Jones.” Limbo is currently one of the top NASCAR drivers.
He has a private track in Santa Fe where he trains and from what I can see, this package allows the winner to not just spend a weekend training with him but learning the ropes and getting behind the wheel.
He puts his name down immediately.
“Aren’t you supposed to be saving for a house?” I tease.
“Shut the fuck up.” His bid is well over the suggested starting price, but just like fighting is my thing, racing is his. He doesn’t do much of it anymore either so something like this would be special.
“I get this feeling this is going to be an expensive weekend,” I groan, standing in front of a football autographed by Dan Marino. I grew up in South Florida and he was my football idol.
Grudgingly, I write my name down.
Grim is walking around, bidding on pretty much everything, and I chuckle at his child-like excitement.
What the hell, it’s all for a good cause.
I’m trying to decide if dinner at Craig’s—an L.A. hotspot—is worth the price tag when I catch a glimpse of pink. My head snaps up and all I can do is stare.
My woman is coming toward me in a hot pink dress much like the one she wore on her fateful final date with Roger—but this one is meant for evening. It has rhinestones on the spaghetti straps and it’s short, ruffles dancing around her thighs.
She’s fucking perfect.
And fucking mine.