Pushing the Limits (17 page)

“I know, and I can't tell you how sorry I am for lying to you.”

He shook his head. “You didn't just lie to me. A lie, I could possibly forgive—I mean, I'm that crazy in love with you—but you didn't stop at a lie. You reached in deep, found the greatest wound I carry, and you exploited it to get ahead in your career. That's something I can't forgive.”

Tears were burning her eyes now and she struggled to catch a breath, her chest collapsing under a heavy weight of disappointment and regret.

“Now I'm done,” he said, disappearing inside.

* * *

Dane opened the Consuelos's mailbox and put the envelope of money inside. His first paycheck from Edwards' Propellers was more than he'd made in a month at The Vault, and he felt good that he was able to do more for them. While his return to training had helped him start to move past the tragedy, it almost made him feel even more guilty when he thought about the family. He was moving on with his life . . . but they had to go forward without Marco.

He turned to leave and jogged across the street. He had to get to work, then to the walk-through of the event center at the Hard Rock. He was starting to get anxious about the fight, and he was looking forward to getting through it. But he was also grateful to have so much else occupying his thoughts and causing him turmoil. It helped to dim the pain he felt over Colby. And he knew when the fight was over, that was when it would hit him hardest.

He opened the truck door, but stopped when he heard Eva's voice behind him.

“Is this supposed to make things better?”

He froze. He hadn't seen her car so he'd assumed she wasn't home. Slowly he turned, coming face-to-face with her for the first time since the fight.

She held the envelope of money as she crossed the street toward him, angry and determined.

“Eva, I just wanted to—”

“Wanted to what? Ease your own guilt?”

“To help. Any way I could,” he said.

“And you think sneaking money into our mailbox every two weeks, being too much of a coward to ring the doorbell and say you're sorry for what happened is helping?” she demanded, shoving the envelope toward him. “Take your money. In fact, if you wait here, I'll get you the rest of it.”

His chest tightened. She'd never used the money he'd given them. Her hatred and inability to forgive him ran so deep as to not even accept the help he was trying to offer. “Please don't. I don't want the money. And you're right. I was being a coward, leaving it in the mailbox. I should have come to see you and Josh.” He'd wanted to—at least part of him did—but he hadn't known what to say. Hadn't been able to summon enough courage to face a torturous silence, full of hate and sadness, that a visit to her family would have entailed.

“Your money means nothing to us,” she said. She grabbed his hand and shoved the envelope into it. Her dark hair blew into her face and she tucked it behind her ear.

He took it, noticing she still wore her wedding band, and his heart broke for what felt like the millionth time. He could move on with his life, but would she ever really be able to? “I wanted to help,” he said again.

“It doesn't. Money can't change anything. It won't bring my husband back.”

He nodded. “I know and I am sorry.” His shoulders slumped. “I'm sorry I let him step into that ring every single day. I'm sorry for the kick. And I'm sorry you lost him . . . we all lost him,” his voice broke and he stared at the ground at his feet. It was useless to try to hold it together. A year of sorrow and regret strangled him, and after the last few days and the stress he was under with the upcoming fight, his emotions took over.

She was silent for a long moment. “You knew?”

He swallowed hard. “Yes.”

A second later, she was in his arms, her body shaking softly.

Shocked by the unexpected hug, his arms hung at his sides for a moment, before he wrapped them around her.

“He was doing it for us . . . I begged him not to,” she whispered against his chest. Her words were barely audible above her soft sobs.

“He wanted to do the best he could for his family. He loved you and Josh so much,” he said into the top of her head, holding her awkwardly in a comforting embrace. “I'm so sorry,” he muttered over and over.

They stood that way for a long time, the moments ticking past unnoticed as they both struggled with their own thoughts and the emotions suffocating them.

Finally she pulled away. She wiped her eyes quickly, looking slightly embarrassed by her emotional display and the odd connection they'd shared. “Wait here, and I'll get you the rest of your money.”

He held out a hand to stop her. “No, please, keep it.”

She shook her head. “We don't need it. The insurance money paid for Josh's surgery and the payouts help us keep afloat,” she said.

He took a deep breath. “That might not be the case much longer.” He had no idea whether the insurance company would expect her to pay back the payouts based on the circumstances, once Colby's story aired . . . but just in case.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He explained the situation to her, but instead of being upset as he expected, a look of worry mixed with relief crossed
her face. “It's time the truth came out. You've been living with the blame long enough, Dane. I've had a big part in that, and I'm sorry. It's time this comes to an end.”

He sighed. “Well, keep the money, please. You were right. It does help ease my guilt a little.”

She hesitated, but then nodded slowly. “Okay. But no more. It's time for all of us to move on. To forgive,” she said.

A heavy weight lifted from his chest and he hugged her again. Time to move on. Time to forgive.

That was easier said than done.

“Hey, Dane, could you come by the office for a minute when you're done there?” Ray asked him as he walked past later that day.

Dane stopped the sander and raised his protective mask. “Everything okay?”

Ray nodded. “Yeah. No rush. Whenever you're finished.”

Dane watched his boss walk back to his office and his mind reeled as he finished sanding the propeller. Was there a problem with his work? He knew he was coming in tired a lot lately, having been training until midnight or later every night, but he was still showing up and getting the required work done.

Finishing the propeller, he shut off the machine and headed toward the office. He knocked once and entered. “Hey. Is now a good time?”

Ray waved him in. “Perfect. Have a seat.”

He sat. “Is everything okay? I know I've been a little off the last few weeks.”

Ray shook his head. “You're doing fine, son.”

Son. Once again, the word was a kick to the gut. Despite his anger and disappointment, he missed Colby. But he also missed being a part of her family. He still worked there, but over the last week, things had felt different around Ray and the guys. A week ago, he'd almost felt like a part of their family. A real family that cared for one another.

“But unfortunately, I'm letting you go,” Ray said.

His mouth went dry. What? He was doing fine but he was canning him? Was it about Colby? Was the man feeling the slight tension now too? His jaw clenched. Colby had gotten him the job, and now, because of her, he was losing it? “Sir, I won't let things with your daughter interfere with my work here,” he said, trying and failing to keep the note of desperation from his voice.

Ray frowned. “You and Colby have your own relationship to sort out. That's not why I'm firing you,” he said.

“Then what is it?”

“You only have three days before your upcoming fight and I think your time would be better spent training and
preparing.”

Dane shook his head. “I appreciate that, sir, but I don't need the time. I'm doing fine and I really don't want to lose this job.”

“Fighting is your passion and I don't want this job to hinder your chances of being great. Dane, I watched your previous fights. I may not have been as forthcoming with you as I should have been, but I knew who you were when you walked in here looking for a job.”

“I'm not planning to fight beyond this one match,” he said. “Please, Mr. Edwards . . . Ray . . . don't fire me.”

The older man studied him, silent for a long moment. Then he nodded. “Okay. If you truly believe you are done with fighting, I'd love to have you stay on, but I'm giving you three days off with pay to prepare.”

The genuine offer of support and kindness brought a lump to his throat and he swallowed hard. “That's very generous of you, but I can't accept that. I'll take the time without pay.”

Ray reached beneath the desk and handed him a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. “You'll take the pay as part of our sponsorship,” he said.

Tears burned his eyes and he knew he must look like the biggest wimp on the planet, but there was no suppressing the emotions spiraling through him. The company believed in him and was sponsoring him. His entire life, after his father left, he hadn't known compassion or kindness, and after the year from hell, the thoughtfulness and acceptance from this man were overwhelming. He nodded, staring at the clothing, struggling to find his voice. “I can't tell you how much this means to me, sir.”

Ray stood and extended a hand. “Good luck.”

Dane stood and accepted the handshake. “Thank you.”

Leaving the office, his thoughts returned to Colby. She may have deceived him and hurt him, but she'd also given him a second chance at life.

He still wasn't sure he could forgive her, but as the weight of the world started to lift slowly from his shoulders, it no longer seemed impossible.

* * *

“You wanted to see me?” Colby entered Ari's office the next morning, prepared to receive the next local assignment. She
would suck it up and do whatever he asked, for now. But the evening before, she'd prepared her notes on the Xtreme Fight story and e-mailed them to him. If he still didn't agree there was a story there, she was prepared to start sending the tip to other news stations and requesting a meeting with producers. After everything she'd gone through to get the story and everything she'd lost, she refused to walk away from it.

“Have a seat,” Ari said, shutting his laptop and giving her his full attention.

Could everyone sense her all-time lowest morale, and were therefore being nice to her? So far that morning, she'd found a coffee waiting on her desk, and everyone had been polite and friendly. Not a usual Monday morning in The Pit. She sat and tried to look interested in whatever new assignment he had, hoping it would be her last.

“We'll just wait for Human Resources and then we can get started.”

Her eyes widened. “Human Resources?” They were only ever called in for two reasons.

“Yes. I'm promoting you to news anchor of Knock Out Sports for Faith's maternity leave,” he said, casually as though she'd been a given for the position all along.

Her mouth gaped. “You are?”

“Yes. I read your notes on the Xtreme Fight League. You have a story to report that could change the sport of MMA.”

Was she seriously hearing him right? He wanted her to deliver the story? The man who'd been against it from the beginning? Her research and notes had convinced him?

“Also, Faith put in a good word for you and she insisted she'd take a longer leave if we didn't offer you the position, but mostly, it's this story. You've shown great reporting and investigation skills. You deserve a shot at reporting real news.”

Yes. She did. That's why she'd been prepared to apply at other stations. “I thought local sports news
was
real news.” She couldn't resist reminding him of the patronizing way he'd treated her. She wanted this job, but suddenly, she wanted the respect that went with it.

Ari scoffed. “We both know local stuff is filler. Now, while we wait, why don't you run me through the story details again?” He leaned forward and for the first time since the first day she'd worked there, she had has full attention.

She should be excited in the moment. She should be relieved that she'd landed a great opportunity to prove herself with the station. She had the story of her career at her fingertips . . . But an image of Dane flashed in her mind—his hurt, betrayed expression—and then another one of Eva and Josh Consuelos. She hesitated briefly before saying, “Ari, will you still offer me the position if I decide not to run this story?”

He frowned as he stood and paced the office. “Colby, I want you to deliver this story. You worked hard to get it. You've been busting your ass to prove yourself, prove you could handle the big stuff. I'm convinced, and the job is yours, but only if you deliver this story.” He stopped and his gaze locked with hers.

Her chest ached and the indecision in her mind was torture. She nodded slowly. “Right, of course. I'll run the story.” What choice did she have? Besides, if she didn't, she'd already delivered enough of it to him in the e-mail that someone else would. She forced a smile as she said, “Thank you for the opportunity.”

* * *

“Have you fought here before?” Griffin, the fight rep at the Hard Rock Casino, asked him at the back of The Joint, the venue for the redemption match.

Dane nodded. “It's been a few years though.”

“Okay, well, we will do the walk-through in case anything has changed,” the man said, leading the way toward the locker room. Unlike at the Mandalay Bay event center, the locker rooms at The Joint felt more like holding areas. The event center held concerts and other live entertainment shows, not only fights. The atmosphere was hip and cool, yet comfortable with its smaller setup and limited seating.

He was relieved to be fighting there, where a sold-out stadium meant a thousand, instead of the twenty thousand fans at the Mandalay Bay. This exhibition match would be tough enough without the pressure of a crazy crowd.

“So, here is where you will warm up and wait. There's only your fight and two prelims on the card tomorrow night, so the wait shouldn't be more than an hour. Of course you're welcome to arrive as early as you want. The room will be set up for you after two o'clock tomorrow.”

Dane nodded. He didn't plan on arriving a minute sooner than necessary. The longer he had to wait to walk out there, the more anxious he would feel.

“I'll come for you three minutes before the fight announcement, and we'll walk to the center together.” Griffin held the door open and Dane followed him down the long, dimly lit hallway, covered with autographed photos of The Joint's previous entertainers, toward the event center. He opened the door and went inside.

Event crews were constructing the cage in the center of the hall and lighting and music technicians were preparing for the show. It was organized chaos inside the venue and his pulse picked up. This was nothing. When the lights were on him, his walk-out music played, and the sound of the crowd echoed in his ears, he would be a mess of nerves and doubt. His mouth was dry and he swallowed hard several times, trying to focus on what Griffin was saying.

“You'll walk out down this aisle, security detail will lead and follow. There's not much space to walk on either side of you, so just be aware of fans reaching out and shit.”

Great.

“You'll walk along the right side of the cage . . .” he was saying as he walked the route Dane would be taking. “And then climb up the stairs into the cage. You're in the left corner for the fight.”

Dane continued to nod. Go right. Up the stairs. Go left.

Sounded simple.

It was far from.

“You know the rest,” Griffin said.

That was the problem. He didn't know the rest. He had no idea how he was going to react once the cage door locked behind him. Training in the octagon at Punisher Athletics had been hard at first, but he'd started to feel more comfortable in there over the last few weeks. The cage no longer haunted him there in the safety of the gym . . . but the cage in front of him was a different story.

* * *

“I think that's good.”

“Huh?” Colby glanced up at her mother sitting across from her at Perk-Up, the coffee shop next door to the hospital. Her father had experienced some chest pain the night before, so they'd brought him in an hour ago, once he finally agreed to go. Doctors were running some tests, and though they'd reassured them it wasn't another heart attack, the wait was torture. On top of her already troubled mind, she could feel the pressure of this new stress resting heavy on her shoulders. “What?” she asked.

Her mother reached across and took a stir stick from her hand, setting it onto the table. “I think the cream is stirred in by now,” she said with a knowing smile. “You okay?

Colby swallowed hard. Her parents knew about her breakup with Dane and the reason for it. She knew they were struggling with a mix of disappointment in her that she'd lied and feeling sorry for her heartbreak. She brushed it off. “I'm fine.” She would be in time. Once she started the new position, she would be too busy to mope around, checking her phone every ten seconds for a call or text she knew she had no right to expect.

Besides, she was here to support her mother, not the other way around. “Are you okay?” Her mother looked as though she hadn't slept the night before and Colby wished she'd called her sooner.

Her mother nodded. “We will get through this. I'm glad you're here. The boys are great, but they try to act so tough and I know they are just terrified to admit that their dad isn't as strong as he used to be . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Colby stood and joined her on her side of the table, giving her a hug. “I'm sure he's going to be fine. He's still pretty strong,” she said.

Her mother reached for a napkin to wipe her eyes. “He really likes Dane.”

Colby sighed. She knew that. Over the weeks working together, the two men had gotten close. She suspected Dane looked up to her dad, the way they all did. She wondered if she should let him know her dad was in hospital . . . Not yet. If anything happened, she would. She swallowed hard as the thought of losing someone else she loved closed in on her, making her chest tighten.

“It's going to take time to get over him,” her mother said.

She nodded, unable to verbalize her thoughts. Not wanting to upset her mother even more.

“You're sure there's no way . . .”

Colby shook her head quickly. “No. It's over.” He'd been clear about that and she had to accept it. She'd messed up. And if she did the story on air, it would be the final nail in the coffin. He'd never be able to forgive her.

“But you succeeded in getting the position you wanted. That should make you feel better, right?”

It should.

“Yeah. I'm glad I was able to get something so soon. Now I can stay in Vegas,” she said, sipping her coffee. This was where she needed to be. This was what she'd wanted—the job close to her family. But all of a sudden, being in Vegas made her chest ache. So close yet so far from Dane.

Not to mention the view of planes taking off over her new office every day was a cruel, constant reminder of him.

“You don't have to,” her mother said, quietly.

She frowned. “Don't have to what?” She'd already explained to her mother why this story was so important . . . yet, admittedly, she'd been also trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing.

“Stay in Vegas.”

Her mother's response surprised her.

She obviously knew what staying and accepting this job meant.

But it didn't matter. Stay or go, she'd lost Dane. And that day's scare with her father just reconfirmed her decision.