Lady and the Champ (61 page)

I want to ask him exactly what he means. Does he want to make up for having me beat up—twice—or for making Jess’s life hell? For controlling my life and forcing me to throw fights I could have won? Just for being a general asshole? He has so many choices, after all.

“There’s one thing you can do,” I finally tell him. I don’t shrink from it; I don’t want him to think I’m kidding around, and if I’m reading the room right, this is exactly the right time to put all my cards on the table.

“What’s that?”

“You can get the fuck out of my life. Let me run things my own way. Leave Jess alone. Leave me alone. Let us live our lives. That’s what you can do.”

Spada is silent for a long moment. I know there’s no way he’ll ever meet my terms. He’s too addicted to the control to ever change. I watch his face, looking for any indication of how he’s going to respond. I see nothing. Then, finally, he says, “Let me think on it.”

I guess, for now, it’s the best I’m going to get.

I
t’s amazing
to me how much can change in such a short time. Only a year ago, I was sitting in that bar, watching Cain come up to me, all attitude, almost daring me not to pay attention to him.

And now here we are.

Cain’s in the bathroom, and the shower’s running; he just got home from his latest bout. I don’t know what kind of deal he made with my father, but I do know he’s happier. He’s not being told when to win and when to lose—he just gets to fight, do his best, and let the outcome fall where it may. And he’s good. Very good. Truth is, as hard as it is for me to understand, he loves what he does. How you can love doing something where you get the shit beat out of you for a living is beyond me, but I guess there are worse things.

Also, if you’re going to get beaten up for a living, having a budding physician’s assistant as a wife is an excellent choice. I get to practice stitching him up, getting the swelling down on his cuts and bruises, and making sure nothing gets infected. I’ve also monitored him a few times for concussion, although he’s been lucky in that regard.

It’s the concussions that worry me more than anything else. I’ve seen way too many people drift off into mental oblivion after one too many hits to the head. Which is why I’ve been encouraging him to look at something else he might be able to do. I know he loves fighting, but there are less dangerous jobs he could have without leaving the MMA world. Training, for instance. He seems amenable to the idea, so hopefully one day he’ll stop coming home bloody.

In the meantime I’m still studying, still taking my classes. I go to school at night; during the day I take care of the baby and do some freelance work. We’re doing okay. I’m not taking money from Pop and neither is Cain. Pop comes by from time to time to visit and to see the baby, but there’s no more ugliness, no more power plays. I can live with that.

Speaking of the baby, Annabelle has fallen asleep nursing in my lap while I study for a test I have coming up this week. I hear the shower turn off in the bathroom, so I make sure to get to a stopping place before Cain saunters out, shirtless, rubbing his hair with a towel. His face has taken a beating; he’s got a black eye and a big cut on his cheekbone. With the number of scars he’s got, it’s amazing he’s still pretty.

Scars or not, he grins at Annabelle, and she grins back, her smile gummy and full of drool. He laughs at her and reaches down to take her.

“There’s Daddy’s baby girl,” he says, settling her on his lap as he sits down. Her head’s still a little wobbly, and he’s careful to be sure it stays steady. He’s so good with the baby, so good with me. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap while Mommy fixes Daddy’s face.”

I laugh at him and scoot up next to the chair he’s settled into. “I think it’d take a miracle worker to fix your face, these days.”

He leans forward to kiss me. “Which is why I ask you to do it.”

Shaking my head, I start to examine his face. While I’m assessing whether anything needs stitches, he lets Annabelle squeeze his fingers while he makes baby-talk noises at her.

It’s all I can do to keep the tears from welling up. It’s so perfect, the three of us. I never dreamed it could be like this. Even when I was working so hard to get away from my father, I never dreamed it would really, actually happen.

But here we are. And here we’ll stay.

* * *

K
at is
 a country girl who recently moved to the big city, and she loves trying all the restaurants and coffee shops in her new neighborhood. Katherine was a student of journalism, and has been a lifelong reader and passionate writer. Bad boy romance has always been a bit of a guilty pleasure for her, so Kat is excited to be writing steamy romance for her awesome fans!

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