Ruin Page 23
I draw in a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. But I’m the one who’s going to be doing the amazing things with my tongue to you. You deserve it.”
He growls, and it makes me shiver.
“I’m not gonna argue with that. How long till your lunch break?”
I glance up at the clock on the wall. “Just under an hour.”
“Can you leave sooner?”
“I wish.”
“Then, I’ll see you and that sexy mouth of yours in less than an hour.”
I hang up the phone with a smile on my face, feeling a lot less stressed than I did five minutes ago and a heck of a lot more excited about my lunch break than usual.
I pull my car up in front of Zeus’s building, parking behind a big-ass black SUV.
I check my teeth in the rearview mirror, smooth my hair down, and sort the girls’ position in my bra, making sure I’ve got ample cleavage showing. Grab my perfume from my bag and spritz myself with it.
Ready, I hang my bag on my shoulder and exit my car. I lock it and walk toward Zeus’s apartment.
I get the key he gave me to his place from my bag and let myself in. I hear the sound of male voices the moment I push the door open.
Huh? He has guests? What happened to my smexy lunchtime?
I close the door behind me and walk down the hall and into the living room.
The first thing I see is the less than welcome sight of Marcel Duran sitting in the middle of the sofa and two burly-looking guys standing on either side of it.
Oh, fucking fuck. What the hell is he doing here?
My eyes quickly seek out Zeus, who’s seated on the arm of the chair across from Marcel, hands clenched into fists on his thighs, staring at Marcel like he’s seconds away from killing him.
Jesus Christ. His lawyer only just got the charges for assault dropped this morning. The last thing I need is him killing Marcel and his cronies.
“Zeus,” I say quietly.
Zeus’s eyes flick to mine, the surprise in them telling me that he’s only just registered my being here. But, behind the surprise, I see the undiluted rage.
If I thought he was angry with that paparazzi guy the other day, then I was wrong. He was clearly just playing then in comparison to the way he looks right now.
“Cameron!” Marcel exclaims my name like it’s a production, spreading his arms wide. “It’s been so long since I last saw you.”
“Not long enough,” I say before I can stop myself.
Marcel chortles like I was joking. I wasn’t.
Zeus pushes to his feet. “Marcel was just leaving.”
“What? Come on now, Zeus. I only just got here,” he says cheerfully. “It’s been a while since we saw each other. We have a lot to catch up on. And there’s some business we need to discuss before I go. Now, be a love, Cameron, and go make me a coffee. I take it black, two sugars. Matt, Earl, you want anything?” he asks his paid lackeys, who have a vague resemblance to Ren and Stimpy.
“She’s not your fucking waitress,” Zeus snaps.
Annoyance flickers through Marcel’s eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it arrived.
“My apologies, Cameron. I didn’t mean to offend,” Marcel says without a lick of sincerity in his words.
Zeus moves in front of me, blocking me from view. His arms curl around my upper arms. “Go back to work. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”
“No,” I whisper. “I’m not leaving you alone here.” I try to convey my meaning with my eyes. As in, I daren’t leave you here with him in case you lose your shit and hit him and then end up at the police station again. Somehow, I can’t see a payoff of fifty grand satisfying Marcel.
“Cam…” Zeus says my name low and with meaning.
“Let her stay, Zeus,” Marcel says, sounding suddenly bored.
Zeus turns to face him, keeping me partially concealed behind him. “How about you say what you came here to say, and then you leave?”
Marcel sighs. Pushes himself forward in his seat. His hands resting on his knees. “Well, I wouldn’t have had to come here if you’d answered my calls.”
“There was a reason I wasn’t answering your calls. The same fucking reason you shouldn’t be here right now. Because I’m still figuring out how not to wrap my hands around your throat and choke the life out of you.”
Marcel’s beady eyes darken. “You threatening me, Zeus? Because that’d be a real stupid move to make.”
Zeus’s step toward Marcel is menacing. My hand hangs on to the back of his T-shirt, like I’d somehow be able to stop him if he decided to go for him.
The Ren and Stimpy lookalikes make a point of stepping forward, too.
Zeus looks at them both and smirks before taking his eyes back to Marcel. “I’m not threatening you, Duran. I’m simply stating a fact.” Zeus’s voice is eerily calm, sending shivers down my spine. “And, really, these guys? You brought these for protection? I could take them both down without even breaking a sweat, and you know it.”
“I also know you wouldn’t do jack shit because you care too much about your little family to risk screwing things up, and I’m not talking about the family that she tricked you into having. I’m talking about that kid brother and sister of yours who are still in college, relying on you to keep them there. And don’t forget your dad and his love of the bottle. How many rehab visits is that now, Zeus?”
“Tricked him?” I exclaim, letting my bag slide from my shoulder and to the floor. “The only one who tricked Zeus into anything was you, you crazy bastard! When you made him believe he would be better off without me!”
Okay, so maybe it’s me that’s going to lose my shit by staying here.
Marcel laughs and gets to his feet. It sounds like a laugh Santa would make. But that man is far from Santa. More like Satan. “Honey, I didn’t need to make him believe anything. He couldn’t wait to get away from you and into all the pussy waiting for him.”
I actually see red. I didn’t know that was a real thing. Apparently, it is. I want blood. Specifically, Marcel Duran’s.
I make a lunge for him, but Zeus catches me around the waist, preventing me from going anywhere. And I’m like a cat fighting to get free.
“Cam, stop,” Zeus rasps low into my ear, yanking me back to the now.
Marcel laughs the most patronizing sound I’ve ever heard. “You need to keep your woman under control, Zeus. This was always the problem with her. Overly emotional. Getting in your head all the time. Distracting you and dragging you down.”
“The only one who dragged me down was you.” Zeus glares at him.
“Drag you down? I made you, Kincaid. You’d do well to remember that. You’d be fighting in pool halls with an audience size that I could count on my hands, spending your days still working in that shithole factory to make ends meet, if it wasn’t for me.”
It’s Zeus’s turn to laugh. “You keep telling yourself that, Duran. Did you forget I was already an Olympic champion and that I had a Golden Gloves win under my belt when you came knocking at my door?”
“You had nothing. A gold medal and an amateur boxing title that mean jack shit in the actual world of boxing. I put you where you are, Zeus, and don’t you forget it.”
“You did nothing! It was me in that ring, winning every fight! Me training every fucking day. Sweat, blood, and fucking pain!” He slams a hand to his chest. “I was the one who sacrificed the person who mattered most to me because you’d made me believe it was the only way! Because of you, I lost the first four years of my daughter’s life!”
Marcel actually has the audacity to sigh and roll his eyes. “You have your daughter now, so what’s the big deal? I did you a favor, not telling you that she was knocked up. If you’d known, you would’ve come running back to her, and you wouldn’t be where you are right now.”
“Where I am right now?” Zeus laughs a disbelieving sound. “Right now, I’m here, fighting to get my family back with me, all because of the damage you did.”
“She was the only important thing in my life!” Zeus roars.
“If that’s true, then you wouldn’t have walked away from her so easily.”
I feel sick at those words. Because those are the exact words that rattle around in the back of my brain all the damn time.
“Yeah, easy—that’s what it was, Marcel,” Zeus scoffs. “Not one fucking thing about walking away from Cam was easy for me, and you know it.”
“After she was gone, you became the fighter you were always meant to be. I did you a favor.”
“Am I supposed to thank you for ruining my life?”
“Don’t be so fucking melodramatic. You’ve been spending too much time around her again.”
“I fucking hate you,” I hiss at him.
He laughs that chortling, annoying-as-hell laugh. “You’re not the first, sweetheart, and you sure as hell won’t be the last. I’m not in this business to make friends.”
“No. But you were supposed to look out for me,” Zeus says with an edge to his voice.
“I did.”
“No!” Zeus roars. “You looked out for yourself! I gave Cam up to give Ares, Lo, and Missy a shot at a decent future because you made me believe that it was the only way it would happen!
“No outside distractions, Kincaid. Don’t take her calls, Kincaid. You think she’s waiting around for you at that ballet school in New York? Hell no. She’s spending her time with those artsy-fartsy male dancers. You don’t need that shit in your head. A clear mind equals a better fighter. Do you think Ali or Frazier sat around, fretting over their girlfriends? No. They cut that shit loose, and they got in the ring and did what they had to do.” Zeus mimics Marcel’s voice.
“You were in my head all the fucking time. And I listened to you because I trusted you. I thought, putting all the bullshit and bravado aside, that you had my best interests at heart. But that was a lie. The only thing you’ve ever cared about is the numbers on the check that you banked after every fight I did for you.
“I should’ve listened to Cam when she told me in the beginning that she didn’t have a great feeling about you. But I didn’t listen to her. I won’t make that mistake again. Now, get the fuck out of my apartment before I do something neither of us will be able to come back from.”
Marcel’s face is blank. Expressionless.
He puts a hand inside his jacket and pulls out a brown envelope.
He drops it on the coffee table in front of him. “Your training schedule and details for the Dimitrov fight. It’s set for six weeks from now. So, you’d better start training. Because, if you lose this fight, Zeus, I will take every cent you have, and I won’t stop until you and your entire family, including her and that kid of yours, are sleeping in a dumpster.”
I expect Zeus to argue. Say he’s not doing the fight. Tell him to fuck off in the very least. But he doesn’t. He just stares Marcel in the eyes and nods his head once in agreement.
My insides flare up like gasoline poured on a bonfire. I have to bite my tongue hard to stop from saying anything.
But I will not discuss this with Zeus in front of Marcel. I won’t give the asshole the satisfaction.
I watch with gritted teeth as Marcel and his posse head for the door.
“Just one thing before you go.” Zeus turns his head to look at Marcel. “Was it you who gave the press the bullshit story on Cam?”
Marcel smiles, and I want to wipe the smug look off his ugly face.
“What do I always say to you, Zeus? There are two rules in life. The first is, never give out all the information.” He pats a hand to the door and walks out of it.
I stare after him, mouth open. “That’s it?” I say angrily when I hear the telltale slam of the front door, whirling around to Zeus. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means he covered his ass by feeding yours to the press. No one would have believed he did what he did if we’d come out and told everyone after your story broke. It would have looked like a weak attempt at passing off the blame to clear your name.”
“That man is the actual devil.”
Zeus doesn’t respond to that. He just sighs and goes over to the chair where he sits down, putting his head into his hands.
I sit down on the coffee table and pick up the envelope. “Please tell me you’re not actually going to go ahead with this fight.”
He lowers his hands, eyes coming to meet mine. “We’ve been over this before, Cam. I don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“Not this time.” He shakes his head.
I push up to my feet. “I can’t believe you’re still going to work with that guy after what he did to us.”
Zeus stands. “You think I like it any more than you do? No. But I’m contractually bound. If I walk away from that fight, I will lose everything I’ve worked for.”
“So, this is about money?”
“Yes. Of course it is. Do you think I’m doing this for fun? If I had my way, I would bury Marcel back in the hole that he first crawled out of, but right now, until I do this fight, it’s not an option.”
“Is money the only thing that matters to you?” I hate myself for saying it the second I do because I know that’s not true.
His expression darkens. “You and Gigi and Ares, Lo, and Missy are the only things that matter to me. And to give you the lives you deserve means I have to earn money. And I do that in the only way I know how. I fight, Cam. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at. It’s who I am!” He slams a hand to his chest.
“That’s not just who you are!” I counter. “You’re a father and a brother and a son to a man who doesn’t deserve you. And you’re…mine, Zeus. My best friend. My partner. The love of my life. And I don’t care about the money. Gigi doesn’t care about the money. We can figure something out with Lo and Missy finishing college. Ares could help. I’m sure the NFL is paying him well.”
“He already pays half of their tuition fees,” Zeus admits to me.
“So, what’s the problem then? I’m sure he could cover the whole of it until they graduate. And your dad…well, let him stand on his own two feet for once in his life.”
Zeus turns from me, his hands going to the back of his neck, fingers linking together. I hear him expel a harsh breath.
I walk up behind him and press my hand to his back. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His arms come down from his neck, and he turns to face me. The look in his eyes has my pulse jumping with worry of what he might be about to say.
“I know you don’t care about the money,” he says in a quiet voice. “But I need Gigi’s future to be secure, Dove. I want her to have every opportunity that money can afford. Every opportunity that I never had. And, no matter what my dad has done or how much he’s let us down…he’s my dad. I can’t just leave him to fend for himself.”
“And?”
He briefly closes his eyes before opening them. “And…there’s another reason I need the money.”
“Which is?”
He stares at me for a long moment, guilt and shame swimming in his beautiful eyes. “Kaden Scott,” he says low and with pain. “I need the money for Kaden Scott.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you need money for Kaden?”
“To pay for his ongoing treatment and living assistance. He’s in a fucking wheelchair, Cam. He might not walk again.”
“I understand that, but does his insurance not cover it?”
“Not the level of treatment and physio that he deserves. And he doesn’t have any family, Cam. He’s all alone.”
“Seriously?”
“
He was raised in foster care. His so-called friends along with his manager were nowhere to be seen after his hospitalization. They all just fucking left him. Walked away without a backward glance.”
“Assholes,” I say, thinking how lucky I was to have Aunt Elle, or I could have ended up in foster care when my mom died.
“A lot of people are in this business. They only care about money and stature. A fighter is a paycheck to promoters, and if he’s not making money, then he’s worthless to them. They tossed Scott out like he was trash. He was in a bad way for a long time. I spent pretty much all of the last twelve months visiting him at the hospital. Trying to help in any way I could. I only came back to New York to start my training for the Dimitrov fight. But then I found you, and…everything changed.”
“Where’s he being treated?”
“Arizona. There’s a great rehabilitation facility there. I had him moved there from the hospital in Atlantic City once he was well enough to be transported. Scott hasn’t once asked me for a dime. He didn’t ask for my help. It was only when I was there, visiting, that I overheard a conversation he was having with his doctor, regarding his options for treatment. He hates that I’m paying for his treatment and insists that he’ll pay me every dime back—stubborn bastard that he is. But I put him there, Cam. Paying for his treatment and care and being his friend—it’s the very fucking least I can do.”
“I don’t think it was your fault, Zeus. You all get in that ring, knowing the dangers, but I do understand why you feel responsible and want to help him.”
“That’s why I need the money from the Dimitrov fight. It’s big fucking money, Cam. It’ll enable me to help Scott for as long as he needs. But it’ll also secure Gigi’s future.”
I stare at the wall behind him, hating that he feels he has to do this but understanding why. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
He drags his hand down his face. “Because I was ashamed. I am ashamed. Scott’s in this position because of me. I knew something wasn’t right. I should’ve stopped the fight.”
“No. That’s what referees are for. It’s not on you to stop the fight.”