Page 54 of Fight from the Heart

Change your destiny.

“You need to listen to your heart, Jacob. Fight for what it says in there. Fight for you.”

My hand slips off his chest, and the other releases his chin. This man changed my destiny. The night my father died, the night he was on the side of the road, everything spiraled for me. I left my job and went to work for him. I took the simpler pace of working for Mae. One night. One man. My heart told me what to do, and I’ve been fighting with that heart ever since. He needs to do the same for himself, in order to keep me.

For once, I want someone to fight for me.

“I’ll be up front when you’re ready.” After walking to the rope, I slip through the openings and feel Jacob watching my retreat. Once I’ve hit the floor, I refuse to look behind me but hear Paddy speak.

“You should consider marrying her, ye bastard, or I will.”

Chapter 20

Missing Out

[Jacob]

Me. It’s the only sound ringing in my head. She’s telling me I’m missing out on her, and she isn’t wrong. But is she willing to give herself to me? What price will it cost her to do such a thing? What will it cost me?

Standing still while I watch her walk to the front of the gym, I realize the cost will be my heart and her sanity. I’ll drive her crazy.

“You’re a bastard,” I call out to Paddy as I turn back to him, struggling with my gloves.

“You needed that,” he says to me, being one of my oldest friends. I’ve been coming to this gym since I was in college and he was working it under his father. Now he owns the place, training kids how to fight responsibly and teaching women self-defense. It’s one reason he wound up Pam, pushing her to her limit to fight me and fling out those words that stilled my heart.

Me. She knows she’s too good for me. With a heavy heart and a brick in my belly, I get my gloves off and gather my things. Meeting Pam at the front, she’s chatting with Ashling about the fight tomorrow night. When she sees me coming, she thanks Ashling again for her time and marches out the front door. Once I’ve followed, she spins on me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she huffs, frustration clouding her tone. “Sometimes, I feel like I know you, and other times, I don’t.”

“Would you come to the fight?” Sheepishly, I ask as it’d be a lot for me to handle—her on the sidelines—but then again, it’d mean a lot to me, too.

“I don’t know, Jacob.” She sighs, crossing her arms, looking down at her feet. I don’t like how she’s closing off from me. “Is this even good for you?” Worry fills her voice as she tips her head toward the gym. Her ire has settled and now, her body language expresses her genuine concern.

“The gym? This is one of the best things to happen to me.” I sigh, looking off at the busy traffic. “I wasn’t always strong, physically or mentally. This place taught me how to build strength, inside and out. It taught me how to fight back.”

Her eyes search my face, anxious in what she reads. She also has questions.

“Just ask.”

“Why would you let her hit you?” Her voice quiets, and I struggle to answer. I scrub a hand down my face.

“It’s hard to explain. It’s not like she was beating me up. It’s just . . . I don’t know. Some sort of sick pleasure, I guess. We’d fight, and she’d get physical. I’d dominate the struggle.” A thought occurs. “I never hit her, Lilac. If that’s what you’re thinking. I never touched her like that.”

I step forward, but she steps back, almost slipping off the curb. I catch her by her arm.

“Lilac, it wasn’t like that. It was just some kind of power play, I guess. I’m not used to tender touches and romantic caresses, okay? There’s a fine line between love and hate, and slaps and hits were somewhere in-between.” My father started it. He loved to hate me, or he hated that he felt he had to love me. I’d never know the difference, but he was the only parent I had, and I wanted his approval. I wanted his acceptance, and then I had to accept I’d never have it.

Her eyes drift back to the gym, and her lips twists. I have no idea what she’s thinking or what she suddenly thinks of me.

“I’d never be like that,” she whispers as she told me in the ring. God, the fire in her eyes. The heave of her chest. I wanted to lay her out right there and have my way with her. “I can’t be like that.” She glances back at me, concern evident in her softening eyes.

“I don’t need it like that. I don’t want it like that.” There are all kinds of twisted relationships, thriving on various levels of physical interaction, but that’s not what’s happened with Mandi. It’s been the push and pull of a love-hate relationship. I’ve confused the push for love, thinking it’s the way I deserve things.

Taking a deep breath, I slip my hand down her arm, seeking her hand. “Look, I want to spend the day with you again. Let’s get lost in the city. Don’t think about the fight. Don’t think. This trip is supposed to be about you.”

She swipes back her hair, staring over my shoulder. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here with you.” The anguish in her voice is killing me.

“You’re letting me show you this city. You’re letting me show you a part of me.” I wave out at the gym, but suddenly worry she doesn’t like the part she’s seeing.