Healing Love (Love to the Extreme) (4 page)

A shrug lifted her shoulders. “Like you said, that’s none of my business, and it still isn’t.”

He glanced around. Seeing that no one was paying them any mind, he returned his attention to Kelsey, only to find her watching him curiously. He didn’t like the knowing look on her face.

“Either way,” he said, running a hand over his head. “I acted like a dick and I shouldn’t have. You were just trying to help.”

She sidled up to him, and his chest suddenly tightened in the age-old telltale sign of attraction. Fuck. It was one thing to notice she was a beautiful woman—quite another for him to respond to it. He didn’t have time for a woman to spark his interest right now.

“Everybody has secrets,” she whispered. “Yours is safe with me.”

Not only was she beautiful, but she was perceptive. He was grateful for that.

She sent him another tight smile then turned to her gym bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Try not to be late this time. I have no patience for slackers.” She sent him a wink.

Lance had to fight yet another smile.

“I’ll be fifteen minutes late instead of thirty. How’s that?”

A soft laugh shook her. “You’d be headed in the right direction, at least.”

He had the insane urge to continue the banter between them, which immediately propelled him to get the fuck away from her—and fast. Once he was across the gym, he turned to look at her. She was staring at the wall in front of her. Worry grooved deep lines into her face.

All the things that baffled him about Kelsey came roaring back.

She knew he had a secret, but he’d take a gamble and say she also had one. A big one.

Chapter Two

Inhaling deeply, then releasing the breath slowly, Ella tried to control the threatening burn behind her eyes. Tears were weakness. Weakness was unacceptable.

The inner pep talk helped, and the stinging faded. Knowing she finally had control of her emotions, she shoved her towel and water bottle into her gym bag. Today had not gone as planned. Not that she’d really expected to get the best of a light-heavyweight fighter, but after all the years of training, she’d at least thought she’d be somewhat of an opponent.

She hadn’t been. Once Lance had given her his all, he’d tossed her around like she’d weighed no more than a pillow. The whole point of training with a light-heavyweight was to convince herself she wasn’t completely helpless, so that she wouldn’t shut down if she was faced with someone the same weight and build as her ex.

That plan had backfired. All she felt was vulnerable and afraid…again.

Those two emotions would wind up getting her killed. Which meant she had to train harder.

She wasn’t blind to her desperate need to learn more—to feel safer. Nothing seemed to work. She’d taken Krav Maga. The Israeli defense class should’ve been enough, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t real enough. So she moved on to jiu-jitsu, boxing, and wrestling. It still hadn’t been real enough. Everything was pulled back. Too demonstrative. Even when she’d gotten the best of a trainer, she hadn’t felt victorious because he hadn’t been going at her with his all.

She shook her head. She was focusing too much on the negative. Yes, she was still highly intimidated by large men. However, she
had
just wrestled with one. When Lance entered the ring, her anxiety almost got the best of her. She came damn close to calling the session off. He was so large. Strong. The idea of trying to fight him overwhelmed her with horrific memories. He’d noticed her hesitation. The fact he’d noticed, had commented on it, had given her a strength to proceed that she didn’t know she possessed.

That
was something to be proud of—even if he’d been able to subdue her with a few tosses.

“That was freaking awesome.”

At the unexpected feminine voice, Ella spun around. A younger, dark-haired woman, maybe mid-twenties, was watching her with an expression of awe.

“Uh…thanks.”

“How long have you been training?” she asked.

“A little over three years.”

Three years, four months, and fifteen days, to be exact. She’d started training the moment the doctors had given her a clean bill of health—like her life hadn’t been changed dramatically anyway.

“It shows. I’ve only been at this for a year. I can’t wait to get to the level you’re at. Are you going career?”

She was asked that question a lot. The sad thing was that even though she trained her ass off, trained in the same manner a doomsday prepper stockpiled for the apocalypse, she couldn’t stomach watching a true fight. “Nah. Just a hobby. I enjoy the workout.”

“It
is
a great workout. I’m trying to get into CMC. The women’s division seriously rocks with some badass women.”

Ella wouldn’t know.

The woman thrust out her hand. “Amber Frist.”

She hesitantly took Amber’s hand. She wasn’t here to make friends. The farther away she stayed from people, the less likely she was to say something wrong—like give her real name.

“Kelsey.”

“It’s great to meet you. I just finished up myself. Want to grab a bite to eat?”

“I’m sorry. I really have to go.” Though the only place she had to go back to was her tiny bungalow, where nothing in it was hers but a couple of suitcases. Going there didn’t appeal to her, either.

“Oh.” The girl’s shoulders slumped. “Okay. I understand. I’m sorry for putting you on the spot. I’m newly back in town and heard you were as well, thought maybe…” She shrugged. “You know.”

Guilt pinched her gut. What would it hurt? Ella was alone in an unfamiliar city and didn’t have one person to talk to, when she was used to being surrounded by people at the ER and the women’s shelter. She missed her job, missed her co-workers…missed her ladies. Her chest tightened at the thought of the group of women she was letting down—how disappointed they must be in her for just up and running like she had.

She shoved those thoughts into a “can’t think about this” compartment in the back of her mind. “My plans can wait. I have time to grab a quick bite.”

Amber’s face brightened. “That’s awesome. I’ve only been here for a little over a week, still looking for a job. I wasn’t looking forward to going back home and twiddling my thumbs.”

Ella studied the young, innocent face and envied it—wished she could go back to the day before she realized what monsters people really were. It wasn’t just her own personal experience. She saw it every day at the hospital and the shelter. Stab wounds, bullet holes, people beat to bloody hell… There were so many violent people in the world. And in just a few short days, one more would be set free to walk the streets again.

“Do you have a place in mind?” Ella asked, slinging her gym bag over her shoulder as she tried to refocus on anything other than Randy’s upcoming release from prison.

“I know this great diner down the road. It’s within walking distance.”

“Sounds good to me.”

As they made their way to the door, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing back toward Lance. He was standing in the back with Mac, talking. His gaze turned in her direction, and their eyes connected for a brief moment. A jolt zapped her stomach, and she jerked her head back around.

“He’s pretty damn hot, isn’t he?” Amber asked.

Ella’s cheeks heated. Damn it. Caught. “Who?” she asked innocently.

Amber sent her a “you know exactly who” look.

“Okay. Fine,” Ella relented. “It’s the tats. I’ve always been a sucker for them.” Lance’s sleeve was amazing—mostly done in black and gray tribal, with splotches of electrifying blue that just popped out. It was a stunning piece.

She laughed. “It’s more than the tats. That man is delicious.”

And dangerous. It didn’t matter how hot he was, or that he had turned out to be a damn fine trainer, she had to keep in focus that he was in something bad, and other than inside this facility, they’d have no association.

Better to change the subject. “You said you’re looking for a job, so I assume that isn’t why you moved here. What brought you out this way?”

“My mom. I was raised in Wichita. After I graduated high school six years ago, I moved to New York to pursue an acting career.” She gave a short laugh. “Young and full of dreams and so, so naïve. Never did get a gig. Can’t say I didn’t give it my best, but there comes a point where you have to make some decisions, especially when making the rent isn’t happening. My mom suggested I come back, take a break. I couldn’t argue. I miss New York, but I have to admit, I’m enjoying the slower pace here.” She shot Ella a glance. “What about you?”

First test in keeping her facts straight. “Just needed a change.”

“How do you like Wichita?”

“I actually don’t live here. I live in Cheney. I rented a small house, and I’m doing the same thing you are—reassessing my life.”

Lie. She was hiding.

“Cheney’s nice.”

It was a cute little town. With Wichita only thirty miles away, she was still able to go into the city but could keep to the seclusion she was looking for.

“What did you do?” Amber asked.

“Do?”

“You know…for money?”

The Q and A was making her uncomfortable. God, this had been a bad idea. “I worked in a doctor’s office.”

No reason to elaborate that the doctor’s office was actually a hospital, and she was a surgeon.

“Oh, cool. Are you looking to go back into that line of work?”

She’d love to, but then she’d have to give her real name, and that left her exposed. Until she was positive she was ready to be found, she wasn’t doing that.

“One day maybe, but not right now.”

First she had to get over the fear that her ex was coming after her the moment he was released from prison. Because if he did, she couldn’t freeze. She had to react. Know how to defend herself. Protect herself.

And that was where Lance came in.

…

An hour later, Lance exited the facility. Mac had asked him to train with one of the up-and-coming light-heavyweights. It meant a lot to him that Mac thought so highly of his skills inside the cage, even though he’d never made it into the professional circuit. Life just had other plans for him. Some good. Some bad. Some downright terrifying. All in all, though, things were going pretty damn good right now.

“Hey, Black.”

Except for
them
.
Lance tensed, briefly closed his eyes, and muttered, “Fuck.”

He didn’t have the patience for these three assholes again today. He slowly faced them, and Ralph motioned for him to follow them around the side of the building. As he rounded the corner, he said, “What?”

Ralph scowled at him “Watch your tone, Black.”

God, these three got off on their job. They walked around town like they owned it. In a way, he guessed they did—or more like their bosses did. “I don’t have all damn day. Say what you got to say or fucking leave me alone.”

The scowl deepened. “You’re starting to piss me off, Black.”

“Yeah? Same here. How about we get this over with so we can go on with our days.”

“I’ve got some bad news for you.”

“I’d already gathered that. What is it?”

“The McNealys have decided to alter the terms of your arrangement.”

Shock exploded through him, and he jerked back. “They can’t do that. We have a contract.”

Ralph laughed. “Yes, you do…a McNealy contract, which can be changed whenever the McNealys want.”

Motherfucker
. He should’ve known something like this would eventually come to a head. Though he hadn’t been in the frame of mind to think about future consequences when he’d gone to the cousins for the money in the first place. Not that it mattered what mindset he’d been in. Even if he hadn’t been desperate, he would’ve still signed that contract without thought.

His daughter was now in remission because of the treatment the insurance and banks had refused her. So in essence the McNealys, dirty businessmen that they were, had saved his daughter’s life.

“What’s changed?”

“The life of the loan has been decreased.”

That wasn’t good. His loan payment was already just shy of two grand a month. He was making that, plus his other bills, but he was working himself into the ground doing it. An increase could do him in. Shit. “Really. By how much?”

“Two years and six months.”

Lance ground his molars. That was exactly how long he had left on the loan. The McNealys would only be doing this for one reason. “What the
fuck
do they want?”

“You’re a smart man, Black.”

“I’ve had enough dealings with these two to know how they work.”

“All they want is your talent, Black, and we all know it’s not gambling.” The two guys behind him laughed.

Lance curled his hands into fists, wanting to punch the smug look off the other man’s face. Ralph had been a part of the McNealys’ gambling ring since the beginning. He’d been a witness to Lance’s multiple losses—which led to the demise of his marriage and Piper taking Skylar from him for a short time. “And my talent is?”

“Fighting.”

That word was so unexpected that his mind went blank as it tried to process this new development. “What’re you getting at?”

“They’re organizing a special gambling venture for the members in the Wichita club. One that will benefit you and them. They’re opening a fight club.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous. I can’t fight untrained men.”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad. The fighting will be between trained fighters. We’re just going underground and charging a shit ton of money to get into the door to watch, not to mention the gambling opportunities they’re going to offer.”

Lance swallowed. “When you say underground, you mean unregulated.”

“Anything goes.”

“No.” Lance shook his head sharply once. “Absolutely not.”

“But you haven’t heard the best part. Win or lose, you get five grand a fight.”

Both Lance’s eyebrows went up. Five grand, win or lose?

“I have your attention now?”

He hated the cockiness in Ralph’s voice, because the fucker was right—he had Lance’s attention. With the insane interest rate the cousins had tacked onto his loan, he still owed close to sixty-five thousand dollars. With only a couple of fights a month, he could be out of debt in no time. This would also free up his time. If the money for the loan was coming from fighting, then he could concentrate on taking his business into full-time repossessions like he wanted, and get out of being a self-contractor for the dispatch service. Right now he had to take any wrecker job, no matter the time of day it was offered, in order to keep up with his bills.