“Except one,” I murmur when the truth finally dawns. For the first time in my life, my uncle smiles like he’s proud of me when I add, “You failed to mention my time as a fight recruiter.”
The gurgle of Ezra’s stomach reveals I hit the nail on the head, much less my uncle’s deep timbre. “In the past six months alone, millions of dollars in profits went unearned for the sake of maintainingoneman’sreputation.” He holds his index finger in the air to emphasize his point. “I believe it’s time for us to get back into the game.”
I don’t believe there will ever be a time I won’t shiver when he includes me in his comments by using the word ‘us.’ We’re not a team, but I am happy to pretend we are if it will help Maddox.
“Five thousand per signed fighter.” My uncle scoffs as if I am being ridiculous. It does little to douse my campaign. “If you want the cream of the crop, I will find them.”
“Even with this term not being stated in your agreement with Ox, you can’t seriously be considering this,” Ezra says to my uncle when his amused expression switches to musing. “You agreed to keep her out of this life.”
After wiping away the blood pooling on his top lip, my uncletskshim. “I agreed for her not to follow her mother’s footsteps.” He smiles in a way that makes my skin crawl. “The only fighter Monica ever faced was her husband.”
I fold my arms in front of my chest, hiding the shake of my hands. I know what he is doing. He’s trying to sully the memories I have of my father. It won’t work. The only time I remember my father shoving my mother was when she was hurting me, and it wasn’t done lightly. It took him months to forgive himself, and even then, it was only a half-pledged apology.
My thoughts shift from the past to the present when my uncle counterbids, “Three thousand per contract.”
Months ago, I would have agreed without a second thought. Today, I shake my head. I need to get Maddox out of his predicament as soon as possible. Three thousand per fighter won’t cut it.
“Four thousand.”
My jaw falls to the floor when my uncle displays his annoyance about my sudden backbone by throwing in a lowball offer. “One thousand.”
“You just said three thousand. How can you knock it down to one?”
Ezra is pissed at me, and Caidyn is lost as to what the fuck is happening, but they both move in to protect me when my uncle stands. He finds their protectiveness amusing. It frustrates me to no end.
“What was your father’s favorite saying?” He waits a beat before filling in, “Beggars can’t be choosers.” He drags his eyes down my body in a long, prolonged gawk. “You, my dear, are a beggar.”
After grabbing his hat from a coat stand in the corner of his office, he heads for the door. He knows I’m desperate, and so does everyone else when I say, “Okay. Fifteen hundred per fighter and a promise that you will ensure Maddox is fed and protected for every day of his incarceration.”
He stops partway out the door before spinning around to face me. Think of the most vindictive person you’ve ever met. You wouldn’t even be close to how callously my uncle looks at me while saying, “I don’t make promises. Your father learned that the hard way. But I will give you my word. One thousand dollars per contract andhewill have everything he needs.” The way he sneers ‘he’ exposes he is talking about Maddox. He hasn’t spoken his name since we handed him our souls because we’d rather live without a soul than each other.
Upon spotting my agreeing nod, my uncle dips his chin, then exits his office with Ezra hot on his tail. His departure returns the oxygen his aura always pinches from the air.
I’ve barely sucked in a full breath when Caidyn mutters, “What did you sign on for?”
“You don’t want to know,” I breathe out slowly.And neither the hell do I.
10
Demi
Three excruciatingly long months…
Ibreathe out the nerves twisting my stomach before pulling open a door with a KC’s gym logo in the middle of it. The sweat, blood, and tears that pumps into my nostrils as I scan the overflowing gym should ease my unsettled stomach. It’s the smell of determination only true fighters have, but I’m beyond acting naïve.
I saw the statistics in black and white. I know the odds these men face after being handed my business card. I just don’t have any other choice. The sale of the Walsh family home combined with the two hundred thousand dollars Maddox stashed away didn’t come close to repaying Maddox’s debt with my uncle, and with Maddox’s second appeal denied even quicker than his first, I needed funds, and I needed them fast.
Over the past three months, Maddox’s health has bounced back to what it was before he was incarcerated, but my prognosis only extends to his outer shell. I have no clue what is going on in that head of his. Our once-a-month meetings are still held in a room at the back of Wallens Ridge, but since I’m wary our visits are monitored, I’ve lost the ability to openly communicate with him.
It’s hurting our relationship more than our contacts being non-physical.
I hate keeping secrets from him, but even more than that, I hate the fact I’m suspicious he’s doing the same to me. Tension is mounting the longer we ignore the massive elephant in the room, and I’m petrified it is getting to the point of snapping.
After swallowing to relieve my suddenly dry throat, I get back to work. Maddox’s terms make it clear my uncle can’t punish me if I don’t fulfill his impossible demands every month, but it doesn’t make my job any easier to do. The statistics aren’t as bad as they were when I had no clue what these men would face, but the guilt remains the same.
Regretfully, the bruises I see on Maddox’s face and hands each visit has me desperate enough not to be picky. Not every man I recruit is winning material. I just have to remind myself that it is for the greater good. Since I can’t exchange my life for Maddox’s, I have to push strangers into the firing line.
I hate that it has come to this, but rarely is life fair.
