Authors: Emmy L. Montes

Tags: #The Last Round

The Last Round (21 page)

“I want to. I’m ready to let that part of my life go, and move on to a new and better life with you.” I place my hand to the side of her face. “Natalia, boxing is my career, but you’re my life and that means more to me than any match in my lifetime.”

Natalia’s features still hold reservations as tears swell in her eyes. I pull her in, not allowing her to say another word, and kiss her passionately.

Years ago, I thought boxing was my first love, but I was so wrong. Natalia was and will always be the one and only true first love of my life.

SIX MONTHS LATER

Natalia

EVERYONE AROUND ME
cheers loudly, but my stomach churns and nerves worsen as I see the blood drip from Julian’s eye. Viviana places her hand in mine to lessen them from shaking, but I can’t contain myself. Julian and Trevor Merit have been going at it round after round. It’s been an intense brawl for the past eleven rounds, nerve-wracking for me, but entertaining for everyone around us as we sit in the arena. I press my hand against my belly with thoughts it will calm my anxiety.

It’s the last round and so far it’s a close fight; it looks like it may end at a draw. Both Julian and Merit look tired and both have gashes on their faces, bruises, and blood. Julian sits at his corner as Uncle Al gives him a piece of his mind. I stare at him, hoping he turns his head and looks my way. I’m only two rows from the ring and close enough where he can see me.

The bell rings, Julian stands and the stool is taken away. Julian lightly bounces on his feet and as he walks toward the center of the ring; he very quickly looks over at me. He smiles over his mouth-guard, and flashes me a wink from his swollen eye. I smile, feeling a bit relieved.

He’s okay.

He meets Merit toe to toe and they touch gloves. The referee waves his hand down the middle to go on, and both men waste no time at all. Julian swings a right jab and follows it with a left hook to the side of Merit’s face, which shakes from the blow. I clench my fist in anticipation. Merit sinks his glove into the side of Julian’s rib and I swear I can hear the sound of the blow from here. From the sound of everyone wincing in their seats, they must have heard it too.

Julian guards his body, bringing his arms lower. I can tell that blow must have fractured a rib, because he’s leaning more onto the right side. Still, Julian hunches his shoulders, lift his gloves at eye level and bounces around Merit. They continue to dance, tossing punches here and there—some land and some miss. Every second that ticks by, my anxiety grows.

One minute left on the clock and Julian navigates Merit toward the corner of the ring. Julian has Merit cornered against the ropes.
Oh my God!
The cheers grow louder. I scream, “Come on, Julian! You can do it! Knock him out!” My voice hoarse and raw from the last eleven rounds of screaming.

Something in Julian ignites. His punches grow wild and fast, landing a five-punch combo from face to body blows. Merit jolts, wobbles from the last blow to the head and sinks to the ground. Everyone stands, yelling! Julian backs away as the referee counts down. “10, 9, 8, 7 . . .”

My heart pounds, my head feels light and my eyes blur.

Merit shakes his head. The referee waves his arms in the air that Merit is done. The crowd grows wild. Julian jumps up and down as he shoves his gloves in the air. The commentators repeat the knock-out loud over and over again. “JULIAN RIOS WON BY KNOCK-OUT!”

I throw my body in the air. My sister and I scream and hug and cry.

He did it
!

A bodyguard approaches me. “Mrs. Rios, Julian wants you on stage with him.”

I lift my gown and take the guard’s arm, allowing him to guide me toward the ring. I walk up a small staircase that was setup and Uncle Al lifts the ropes of the ring, helping me to get through. I find Julian in the center; everyone is surrounding him, cheering him on. His eyes land on me and he pushes through the crowd. He reaches me, his body damp with sweat, and he pulls me in. “You did it, champ,” I say with pride.

He smiles, his right eye swollen and bottom lip slit, yet he still looks absolutely handsome. “No, we did it,” he says, his hand guiding toward the swell of my belly. “How’re my babies?”

“They’re hungry.” I pout, rubbing my stomach where our twin boys rest.

He laughs, and it’s the most glorious sound ever.

I lift on my toes and pull him in for a kiss. Gently, Julian pulls away. “I loved you then,” he whispers, his hand still at my belly.

Placing my hands on top of his, I lean in and speak softly. “
We
love you now.”

Julian’s lip curls up to a lopsided grin, and his eyes fill with love and pride. He leans down and softly presses his lips against mine once again. “I will love you always.”

Turn the page for a sneek peek at
Concealed

Rogue Series: Book 1

Emmy L. Montes

COMING IN 2016

CHAPTER ONE

COME ON. I
don’t have all day
. Davian thought as his cigarette dangled between the left-side of his lip. He took in a long drag of his cigarette, allowing the nicotine to sooth and burn his lungs. It was cold out tonight, colder than he expected for the City. Davian could handle it, he had worked through worst conditions, but somehow, standing on a rooftop in Chicago—a different City, hell, a different Country—the bitter foreign air stung his skin. Davian had only been in Chicago for only a week now, on an assignment, and he couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of the States. He was so close to capturing her, and if he wanted to finish his mission in record time, he needed to grab her tonight.

As if his thoughts conjured it, the heavy metal door slammed open, and a woman squealed in pain. Davian moved closer to the edge of the roof and looked down into the narrow alleyway. Just as he expected, his target was there and surrounded by two men. The one wearing a heavy wool coat tightened his fist full of the woman’s hair and shoved her against a brick wall.

“Ow . . . ,” she whimpered, rubbing the back of her head. The neckline of her navy blue dress hung in tatters around her shoulders, and her feet were bare. Long, auburn hair wisped with the wind, covering her face like a mask. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Shut it, you lying bitch! You think we’re dumb, huh?” Coat Guy backslapped her across the face. She gasped, sniffling, as she reached for her cheek and desperately tried to rub the sting away. Coat Guy continued in a mocking tone. “Oh, you’re fuckin’ lucky Al was busy with business, ‘cause he’d torture you a lot more than we’re gonna.”

“Come on, G, we don’t have time for this. Just shoot the bitch and get it over with,” said the other man.

Davian’s eyes narrowed, taking in the man with a ponytail and polo shirt, knowing he could take this guy out in one slick move. This was going to be easier than he thought.

Ponytail Man lifted his gun, pointing it toward the woman. She sobbed loudly, raising her arms in surrender. “Please, you don’t understand . . . I . . . just let me explain.”

Davian picked up his gun from the ledge, placed the silencer on its tip, and aimed it four flights beneath him. The target wasn’t any use to him dead. He needed her alive now. If these two dickwads put a bullet in her brain, he’d be back to square one. He took one last puff of his cig and tossed it aside.

“Any last words?” Ponytail Man asked.

The woman’s entire body shivered. “I didn’t do anything. I promise, I didn’t—

BOOM!

Davian heard the shots ring out before he could take action. Two bullets striking his prey. He blinked as he watched her fall back on the ground from the second blow, bashing her head against the concrete.
Shit
,
these fuckers are screwing with my mission
. Before the two men could do any more damage, Davian took them out, sinking a bullet to the top of each of their heads. Quickly he ran down the fire escape and jumped from the last floor, landing beside the woman.

Her hand was pressed against the left side of her lower abdomen. Blood seeped through the thick fabric of her dress.

“Fuck,” Davian shouted. This was all he needed.

Her eyes fluttered, long lashes flicking open and closed as she gazed at him. For a second, he observed every detail of her features. It was the first time he’d gotten this close to her. And within the last few weeks, he’d seen nothing but photos of her. Even with a tearstained face and cheekbones caked in mascara, she was stunning.

Davian snapped out of it and searched her body for the second gunshot wound. He then realized it’d grazed the side of her head instead of piercing through her skull. A sense of relief rushed through him. There was a chance she’d survive.

Quickly he grabbed his phone and speed dialed a number.

“Dmitry,” Davian greeted as soon as the line was answered. “We have a problem.”

“Do you have the target?” Dmitry Volkov asked.

“Yes, but she’s harmed. Gunshot wounds. One to the side of her skull, the other pierced her lower stomach. It may’ve ruptured her kidney. I’m not certain. But, I’ll need assistance immediately. I’ll contact a few people.”

“Very well,” Volkov stated. “And, Nix?”

“Yes?”

“Remember, you end her once she provides the information.”

“She wasn’t part of the plan. The contract is for Kinlan. I’ll do with her what I please.”

Volkov chuckled. “Fine. We’ll see what she knows, but if she’s a loose end, I want her taken care of, no matter the price.”

It was exactly what Davian was waiting to hear. “I’ll keep you informed of any progress.”

The call ended.