Bastian's Storm

Chapter Five

The next day, I got a lot of answers, but they definitely made everything worse, not better.

I’d shaken up my routine quite a bit. I’d added both morning and afternoon workouts at the gym and still spent my early mornings running on the beach. The workouts were filling up a decent amount of time when Raine wasn’t around and kept me from spending quite as much time at Bar Crudo in the late afternoons when Raine was still in class.

Sitting in a small coffee shop off the beach, I finished off my espresso and checked my watch. The bar would open soon, and I wanted to be there before there was any kind of crowd around. There were already way too many people on the beach, especially for a weekday.

I tossed a few bills down on the table and started walking through the palm trees to the street. I didn’t get far before someone called out to me.

“It’s been a while.”

A shiver moved through me, and no amount of Miami heat could have kept it from chilling me to the bone. That voice—though it had been a long time since I heard it—was enough to send me into a near panic even without the added stress of an unknown intruder at my condo.

It can’t be a coincidence.

“Landon.” I turned as I spoke the name and found my former mentor leaning against the wall behind me. Though I had a couple inches on him, I always felt like I was looking straight into his eyes. Usually I had to look down on other guys, which was a feeling I enjoyed, but Landon seemed like the exception.

In many ways.

He made for a damn imposing figure: blond, blue-eyed, strong jawed, and probably everything Hitler would have looked for in his youth brigade if Landon hadn’t been approaching his forties. He wasn’t as big as I was in the shoulders and chest, but anyone who looked at him knew he spent more than just a couple hours a week in the gym. He had the stoic military bearing of his SEAL training though he’d retired many years ago.

He’d beaten the shit out of me in the past, especially in the beginning when I was learning from him. He could still take me down, a fact we both knew quite well, and he was bound to do it again sometime. John Paul said it was his fucked-up way of showing he cared, and I had to agree with the assessment. As terrifying as he was, Landon was the only father-figure I’d ever had in my life.

Raine hated him. I could tell that from the way her face would scrunch up like she just stepped in dog shit anytime I mentioned him. She thought he made me a monster, but I knew better.

Landon Stark made me, no doubt about it, but not into a monster. He took me off the streets where I was destined to end up either dead or in prison at some point and turned me into who I was, for better or worse.

He saved my fucking life.

“How are you, Sebastian?”

I swallowed hard.

“Been worse,” I stated. My heart was racing, and I had the feeling he could hear it. Hell, he could probably see my carotid beating in my throat; Landon never missed a detail.

“I can attest to that,” Landon replied simply. “You’re still off the booze.”

The remark alone made me want to bury myself in a bottle or two. At least he hadn’t caught me walking into the bar. If he had waited another minute or two to make himself known, he would have discovered my intended destination.

“Yeah, almost a year now,” I said. I shoved my cigarette into my mouth and inhaled deeply as I tried to center myself and get my shit together. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking up on you,” he said.

Landon was never one for hiding his intentions. When I thought about it, I realized after all this time that it was plausible. He might be here only to check up on me, but I doubted it.

So why was he here?

There were too many answers to that question, and I didn’t like the sound of any of them. Having him show up so soon after someone had been in my apartment raised my hackles. I braced myself as I wondered just what this meeting was going to entail.

“Well, I’m good,” I said. “Consider the check complete.”

“Good, are you?” he said. He nodded back toward the door to Bar Crudo, which was just across the street from where we walked down the sidewalk. “Hanging out in a bar every day? Cage fighting? Really, Sebastian?”

He wouldn’t have had to have been in the area long to know I went to the same bar almost daily. However, my single escapade to the part of town with the cage fighting venue had been a month ago, which meant Landon had either been in Miami that long or had someone in the area keeping tabs on me. John Paul hadn’t mentioned it, so he probably didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if I should consider that a good sign or not.

“It’s good for quick cash,” I said with a shrug. I wasn’t going to be able to dismiss it so easily, though. Not with Landon. Aside from Raine, there was no one who knew me better.

He just raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged again.

“It was a good stress reliever,” I added. “I only went there once.”

“You’re getting back in shape,” he noted.

“Yeah, I’ve been hitting the gym a lot,” I said.

“Good,” he said quietly. “You’re going to need it.”

I felt my heart sink into my stomach.

“We need to talk,” Landon said. “Let’s go.”

I followed him up Ocean Drive and past the park. We stopped at a little café called The Local House. Landon was silent as the server brought out fresh bread with marinara sauce. He took our orders with a practiced smile and served us iced coffee in little Mason jars, and Landon ordered salmon for both of us.

“What’s going on?” I asked when the server disappeared inside.

“I’ve got some news that concerns you,” Landon said flatly. He reached into his pocket and dropped a photograph on the table in front of me.

I dropped my eyes to the picture, and as soon as I saw what was on it, I grabbed it up and held it closer to me and out of the vision of anyone who might have walked by.

It was a body.

Actually, two bodies—a man and a woman.

“Jillian,” I heard myself whisper. She was curled up in a near fetal position, and there was an obvious bullet hole at her right temple. A few feet from her was the man she ran off with when she left me. He was on the floor in a similar position.

“Mrs. Koe and her husband, Ian Koe, were found in their Italian home last week,” Landon told me. “The police are investigating, of course, but they haven’t found anything.”

I moved my eyes away from the picture and to Landon’s face. Instinct told me everything—their blood was on his hands. He’d killed them, or at least had them killed, but why?

My breathing stopped. My heart might have stopped, too. All I could do was stare at the picture—the picture of a woman I hated. A woman I might have killed myself if given the opportunity, but I hadn’t seen her since she ran off with the other person in the photograph. I’d tried to stop her, but Landon intervened. He would have killed me before he let me go after her.

She’s dead.

“Apparently, there’s a child left behind.”

I flashed my eyes up to his. Of course there was a child. My child.

“Child?” It was the only word I managed to choke out.

“A little boy, six years old.”

I clamped my eyes shut. It was too much at once, and my brain was overwhelmed. Images of Jillian and me when we were together shuffled through my mind like pictures from one of those ancient toy movie projectors run with a hand-crank—all black and white and choppy. A flash from the diamond ring I had bought for her the day she left blinded me from the inside.

I opened my eyes and looked back at Landon. I wanted to speak. I wanted to ask him a thousand questions, but I couldn’t form a single one.

He leaned forward.

“Let’s get to the point, shall we?” he said quietly. “He’s alive. He’s safe. And he’s all yours for just one little favor.”

“Favor?” I could barely hear myself speak.

“One little fight, you and five others. Half of them have never ever done a real tournament before, so it’ll be a piece of cake, assuming you really are back in shape. Three weeks of a little catch-up training, a few days up north for the tournament, and you walk away with the instant family you’ve always wanted.”

I looked in his eyes and considered his words. I was about to deny it—there was no way I wanted a family—but before I could even consider the words, I knew they were wrong. It was exactly what I wanted. It would replace the family I had never known, and I could make my own shit childhood seem less crappy if I could give a kid the life I never had.

I’ll never be able to give Raine a child.

The server dropped off our entrees and refilled our drinks. He asked if there was anything else we needed, but a glare from Landon sent him scurrying away with a towel over his arm.

“Why this fight?” I asked, pulling myself from my thoughts. “Why now?”

Landon sighed and sat back.

“There’s war in Chicago,” he said as he forked a chunk of his fish. “The Greco family and the Moretti family have been fighting over heroin and caviar for a while now. Last year, the Russians moved in and stirred things up even more. There were a couple of confrontations, and people were killed on both sides. Now they’re in the process of reclaiming territory. Franks is losing money over the whole situation, so he’s come up with a solution.”

“A tournament,” I said.

“Exactly.” Landon leaned his elbows on the table and took a drink from the Mason jar. “Franks wants control of the caviar—it’s becoming more and more lucrative—and this was his way of getting both that control and ending the wars. Warring families hurt business around the globe.”

“What if I win?”

“What if?” Landon echoed. There was a challenge in his voice.

“When I win,” I corrected, “what does Franks get out of it?”

“He’ll get oversight of all the caviar business in Seattle, New York, LA, and Chicago,” Landon said. “The feuding between the Italians stops, which is good for business in general, and the Russians get their asses out of Chicago altogether and act as Franks’ supplier overseas.”

As I processed this information, my mind cleared a little. Though we hadn’t had such a conversation in many years, it was familiar territory.

“Who’s in from New York and LA?”

“Grant Chambers,” he said. “He’s big in the arms trade in New York. There’s also Maria Hill in LA, who’s been having problems with the heroin business since the war broke out.”

“Don’t know her,” I said. “I remember Chambers.”

“She’s not been involved in the tournaments before,” Landon confirmed, “but she’s pissed off enough at Greco and Moretti to get involved. Most of her business has been with Latin America—coke and the like. She also hates the Russians and wants them out of the picture.”

“So three from Chicago, one from LA, one from New York, and me. Six players.”

“Small game,” Landon said with a nod. “And only one who is of any concern.”

“Who is that?”

“Moretti’s man,” Landon said. “I’ll let you do your own research, and you can tell me what you think.”

“You are assuming I’m going to agree to this,” I said. Even as I gave voice to my observation, I knew he wouldn’t be here if there was any choice involved.

“You are.”

There was one question I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“What if I refuse?”

“Well, who knows what will happen to the kid?” Landon asked with a slight shrug. “He’s technically Franks’ nephew or whatever, so he could end up living with him. Then again, maybe Franks doesn’t want a kid. Maybe he’ll get rid of him, foster care or whatever.”

I swallowed hard as the muscles in my arms tightened.

Not my kid. No fucking way will that happen to my kid.

“I know for a fact that he’d get rid of you and your little piece of Ohio-born tail.”

I knew the threat was coming; I didn’t really have to ask. Hearing it still sent my mind spinning. Most of me didn’t care if Franks decided to have me killed, and Landon knew that. Threatening Raine, though—that was a whole other thing. Threatening a child I didn’t even know shouldn’t have mattered to me, but it did.

A lot.

I guess I wasn’t a heartless bastard after all.

The server dropped off the bill when Landon indicated we didn’t want to entertain the idea of dessert. I hadn’t managed to eat my meal, anyway. Landon leaned back in his chair, handed a stack of cash to the server, and looked across the table at me.

“Well?” he said simply.

“You say that like I’m being given some kind of choice,” I spat back at him.

“You aren’t,” Landon acknowledged, “but I like to give you the illusion.”

“Thanks a lot,” I mumbled with a low growl.

“You have every reason to win,” he said. “You’ll get the kid you wanted, and you’ll have the girl. I’ll also make sure you’re never asked to do anything like this again. I’ll get you set up far away—some place all of you can live and be happy together. You’ll have everything you ever wanted, and no more fighting, but you have to do this one last time.”

“One last time,” I repeated.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to come up with any way to get out of this, but my mind drew a blank. Landon wasn’t one to skip any details, and he wouldn’t have approached me until there were no options left. It was probably why Jillian and her husband were dead—just so he could be sure he had more leverage over me than just Raine, as if threatening her wouldn’t have been enough.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been. Knowing they could hurt Raine would have given me time to get her and take off. We’d be on the run, but I could have still protected her. I would have tried, at least, but with my kid out there somewhere, orphaned? Landon had played me perfectly.

“One week from today,” Landon informed me, “we’ll all meet. You, me, Franks, the other bosses, and the competition will be at a location south of Miami. I’ll send you all their names so you can check them out ahead of time. John Paul is going to beef up your training a little now, but as soon as we’re done with the pow-wow, you come with me for real training.”

“Why can’t John Paul do it?” I asked.

“Because Franks wants you,” Landon said simply.

“He’s hoping I’m going to lose?”

“No, he’s counting on you to win. Despite what you did in the past, you’ve never come close to being beaten in the fights. He needs you. Why do you think he let you live?”

I leaned my head back and stared up at the fans attached to the ceiling. I didn’t have a choice; I knew that. My mind didn’t know what to focus on first—the idea that I was going to fight again, the threat against Raine, or the fact that I had a son out there somewhere.

“Where is he?” I asked quietly. “Where’s my kid?”

“Still in Italy,” Landon replied.

“He’s safe?”

“For now.”

“What’s his name?”

Landon stared at me coldly for a moment.

“Alexander,” he finally said. “I believe he’s typically called Alex.”

Alex. The name floated around in my head for a bit. I put the dates together and realized he’d be in the first grade by now.

“I have another appointment,” Landon said as he stood up. “I’ll be in touch with your training schedule.”

“What do I tell Raine?” I asked.

“I really don’t give a shit.” Landon walked by me without another word.

I watched him walk off, turn the corner, and head up the street before I made my own way back toward South Pointe Drive. My fake calm dissolved immediately as I headed away from Landon and down the street—straight to the door of Bar Crudo. The more my mind raced, the more desperate I became.

There’s no way out of it.

I was going to have to fight—no question about it. Landon didn’t make idle threats, and if I refused, Raine would pay the price. God knows what would happen to Alex.

I was dizzy as I sat on one of the tall barstools, grateful for the high back. I leaned against it, but the dizziness turned to nausea, so I leaned forward again with my head spinning. With my eyes closed, I took several deep breaths, but I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.

I have a son.

Holy fuck, a son.

The bartender approached. It was the same guy who was always there during the week in the early evenings. A deeply tanned couple sucked martinis through straws and made googly eyes at one another. There was only one other person down at the end of the bar. He was also tan with tattoos running up one arm and a pair of Ray Bans balanced on the back of his neck. He had a glass of something caramel colored perched between his fingertips. I probably would have recognized him if my mind hadn’t been in such a state.

I stared down at my hands on the bar as they twitched and shook.

“Can I get you something?” the bartender asked.

I shook my head but didn’t look at him. I twisted my fingers around themselves on the counter top and stared at nothing.

My throat was dry. I swallowed over and over again, but it didn’t help. Everything inside of me came crashing down over my body, sending a shudder through every muscle. I squeezed my eyes shut, but that didn’t help what was going on inside my head. I opened my eyes to find myself staring at the row of bottles on the shelf.

I can’t deal with this.

The couple who had been sitting to my left got up and wrapped their arms around each other as they sauntered out. The guy at the end ordered another scotch. When the bartender came back to my side of the bar, he wiped down the counter and grabbed a tip that had been left nearby. He stopped in front of me and again asked if there was anything I wanted.

“Vodka,” I heard myself say. “A…a shot of vodka.”

“Sure thing,” the bartender responded, obviously surprised. I couldn’t blame him for that, though—I’d been coming in here for months without ordering anything.

I motioned with one hand up to the top shelf of the bar.

“The good stuff,” I said quietly.

“You got it.”

He placed the shot glass in front of me, and the clear liquid sloshed slightly for a moment before settling. I ran my finger around the edge of the glass before wrapping my hand around it.

Another tournament.

A fight to the death.

Winning meant protecting Raine and being united with my son.

I have a son.

Fuck me.

I gripped the little glass. It was quite a bit bigger than a single ounce shot and filled nearly to the top. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I tried another deep breath, but it came out in a shuddering gasp.

It will calm me down, I told myself.

Raine’s voice rose above all the other turmoil in my brain.

“I can’t be with that man, Bastian.”

She wouldn’t like this. Understatement of the fucking century. I started to release the glass, but I didn’t quite manage to get my fingers off of it. The tips remained as if they were glued there.

She doesn’t have to know…just one.

My vision blurred. I couldn’t swallow anymore—my throat was too dry.

“You aren’t that person anymore, Bastian.” Raine's voice echoed through my head again.

“I’m not so sure about that, baby,” I whispered to myself. “I might have to be him again—just for a little while.”

I focused on the glass again, steeling myself against the desire to bring it to my lips. The muscles up my arm flexed automatically, and I tightened my fingers around the glass again.

It felt good.

Natural.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I lifted my hand and brought the glass up closer to my face. Tilting it back and draining it seemed like the easiest thing in the world to do, while setting it back down was impossible.

If I do this, it’s done. I can’t go back.

It’s only one drink…it’s not like I’d be instantly back to the same old me again.

She’ll hate me for it.

I need to calm down, or I won’t be able to figure this out.

Just one.

I stopped thinking, tossed it back, and felt the burn as it slid down my throat. I dropped the empty glass back down on the top of the bar as the liquid coated my insides.

Can’t go back now.

“Another,” I said.

The bartender refilled the glass.

What the fuck am I doing?

The exit from Bar Crudo loomed in front of me as I stumbled toward it. I wasn’t sure exactly how a glass door could look so fuzzy, but it did. I glanced at my watch and realized I didn’t have much time before Raine would be returning from class. I had to get back to the condo.

“Sweetheart, you look like you could use a little help.”

I flicked my eyes in the direction of the effeminate voice to see a tall, African American man with bleached-blond hair. Upon closer inspection, I realized he wasn’t all that tall; he was just wearing ridiculously high platform shoes, which were mostly covered by his long, billowing skirt. Maybe it was a swimsuit cover up; I wasn’t sure. I blinked a few times and wondered if he was wearing a woman’s style bikini underneath.

He waved his arms around, nearly spilling the contents of his designer purse all over the ground, and called to another dude in a flowing, green-flowered robe of some kind. He had a tattoo on his arm that read “Don’t Judge,” and his eyebrows had thin vertical lines shaved into them. He checked for traffic before he walked across the street with his arms held out wide.

“Oh may gawd!” the second guy called out.

I laughed at the spectacle, which made me dizzy, which made me laugh more.

“You found quite a little chunk here, didn’t ya, sweetie?”

“I don’t think he’s doin’ too well, babe.”

I wondered what he meant but then realized I couldn’t quite stand up straight. I had to get home before Raine got there, and all the humor of the situation left me.

“Well, we should help him out!”

“You mean ‘help yourself!’”

They both started waving their arms around and squealing at each other in the most stereotypical way and didn’t seem to notice as I backed away and turned, fumbling over my feet a little as I made my way toward our building.

Only a couple of blocks…

Looking up the street, it seemed like a lot farther. I concentrated on that whole “one foot in front of the other” thing until I realized I had passed the entrance and was standing in front of the gelato place on the corner. Gelato sounded really good, so I went inside and tried to focus on the various flavors offered. I couldn’t seem to choose, and a bunch of tourists walked in and started placing their orders, occupying the woman behind the counter.

With my head still swimming, I forced myself back outside and made my way to the entrance of the condo building, swiped my keycard, and pushed open the security door. The elevators were on my right, and the door to the stairs was on my left. I veered left out of habit, went up three steps, fell down, and then used the banister to pull myself back up.

Just need to get inside…

I reached the second floor and decided I wasn’t going to make it up two more flights. I fumbled at the door handle a couple of times before getting it to open, then careened into the wall next to the elevator button. Somehow, I managed to get it to light up, and the elevator door opened.

There was a couple inside, probably in their late forties, dressed to the nines like they were heading to some dinner party. They took a step away from me as I entered and tried to find the number four on the key panel. Once I pushed it, I leaned against the wall of the elevator and kept my eyes to the ground.

“Are you all right, sir?” the man in the suit asked.

I laughed.

“Gonna have to kill a few people,” I slurred. “After that, all should be good.”

The woman’s eyes went wide as she grabbed the man’s arm and whispered something to him. He pulled her to his side and stepped back to press them both into the corner of the elevator.

The door to the elevator opened, and I found myself just outside the condo. I had to lean heavily against the door as I tried to fish my key out of my pocket. Once it was between my fingers, getting it into the lock and turned was a whole other problem. Eventually I managed to make it work and gave myself a mental shove to get through the door. I turned to close it by throwing my hand out and slapping it, which hurt a bit but got the job done. I looked down to my palm and began to laugh again.

Then I fell backwards and landed on my ass.

Deciding it was as good a place as any, I lay backwards and watched the room spin around me. There was that niggling bit in the back of my head that told me I needed to pull my shit together before Raine came home, but it wasn’t loud enough to cover up the ringing in my ears.

Fuck, I didn’t like this part.

I wasn’t completely sure how many shots I had done, but I didn’t think it was enough to have such a profound effect on me. So many months of sobriety must have driven down my tolerance quite a bit.

Raine will be home soon.

“Shit.” I pushed myself up with my arms and leaned back on my elbows for a second. I rolled, or maybe fell, over on my side and tried to get my bearings enough to stand. It didn’t work, so I crawled a little way across the living area until I realized I didn’t actually have a destination in mind.

“She can’t see me like this.”

I took a deep breath and tried to regain some concentration, but all I could focus on was my alcohol breath.

“Gotta brush my teeth.”

At least now I had a plan.

Though I made it to the bathroom, the toothpaste and toothbrush just weren’t interested in cooperating with each other. I ended up spurting fluoridated gunk all over the sink then rubbing the toothbrush around in it, or at least trying to. Once I brought the brush up to my face, I realized I had missed.

“Fuck it.”

I dropped the brush in the sink and stumbled to the kitchen. I pulled open a couple of drawers, looking for gum but came up empty-handed.

“Better to smell like smoke,” I announced to the room. My cigarettes were still in my pocket, so at least it didn’t take any effort to find them. I made my way to the balcony, slid down the wall until I was firmly planted on my ass, and lit up.

I chain smoked for a few minutes until I was pretty sure there wasn’t any other stench on me but that. Of course, the brief amount of time that had passed had done nothing to sober me up, and everything around me was still spinning a bit.

It was brief, wasn’t it? How long had I been sitting here?

I shook my head to try to clear it, which was a big mistake. I tried to count the cigarette butts that lay between my feet to judge how long I’d been there, but those little fuckers were less cooperative than the toothpaste had been. Staring at them nauseated me. I took a long breath through my nose and let it out my mouth as I stared at a single cigarette butt that had made it into the bucket and tried to add it to the count. Focusing on a small object helped to slow the circling motion of the world around me.

I heard the door open.

My hand started shaking a bit as I pushed myself back onto my feet and straightened the edge of my shirt. I just needed to keep myself focused long enough to say I wasn’t feeling well and go lie down.

I can do this. I can fake this. Done it plenty of times before.

I turned, checked my breathing, and opened the balcony door to see Raine placing her book bag down by the coffee table and turning to smile at me.

Her smile faded immediately.

“Bastian?”

I bumped into the kitchen island and winced as my hip jarred against it.

“Hey, babe,” I said…or maybe I slurred it.

“What’s wrong?” Raine asked as she narrowed her eyes.

“I’m ferfectly pine,” I said with a serious nod. At least, I hoped it looked serious—that was the goal. I took a couple of unsteady steps toward her.

“You’re what?”

I stopped and thought about what I had just said. It had made sense, hadn’t it? I tried to repeat the words in my head but found I had forgotten what I had said. With wandering eyes, I finally found Raine, still standing in the middle of the living room and staring at me. I smiled and walked toward her.

Well, I tried to.

Instead, I lurched off to the side a bit and had to catch my balance. A chuckle escaped from me, but when I looked at Raine, she didn’t seem amused.

“Oh shit, it’s not funny, is it?” I snickered. I didn’t intend to snicker; it just came out that way.

“Oh my God,” she murmured. “Bastian, you’re drunk.”

Shit.

Our exchange from the airport bar where I almost took a shot ran through my head. We had just returned to civilization, and I’d gone from blissful isolation to being surrounded by crowds demanding Raine’s attention. At the first opportunity, I found a place that would serve me vodka.

“Bastian…don’t do this.”

“Do what?” I barked out a laugh. “Drink? I’m a fucking alcoholic, Raine. I told you that the first fucking day. That hasn’t fucking changed just because I didn’t have any alcohol available. I never stopped wanting it. Never. You know this shit.”

“You aren’t that person anymore, Bastian. I meant that. I wouldn’t be with someone like that. I couldn’t be with someone who I thought would hit me again.”

“I love you,” Raine said softly, her hand still on my arm, “but when you drink, you become someone else. I can’t be with that man, Bastian.”

“I won’t be.”

She took a couple of steps backwards, and I knew—I just knew—she was going to leave. My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t form any words at first. I couldn’t move, either. It was as if my central nervous system was trying to fire every neuron inside of it at once, and each and every one of them failed to respond.

Can’t let this happen…just can’t…For fuck’s sake, Stark, get your shit together.

“Don’t,” I whispered as I shook my head. “Please don’t.”

Even through my drunken haze, I could see it all in her face—the confusion, the sorrow, the anger. Her face seemed to fall as her shoulders slumped. I could see the tears forming in her eyes as she backed away again.

“No…no, Raine…” I reached out for her, but toppled forward and down onto my knees. My head pulsed and my eyes couldn’t focus well, but I could still see her in front of me. Reaching out and crawling forward, I found her thigh with my hand.

With my chest tightening around my heart and lungs, I grabbed for her and pulled her closer until my head was against her stomach.

“Don’t leave!” I begged. “Please, baby. I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…please, please, God, Raine—don’t go!”

I clung to her.

Raine.

My lifeline.

The sails of my ship.

The only calm for my storm.

My only reason to exist in this fucked up world.

“Don’t leave me!” I sobbed against her. If she pushed me away, if she turned around and left me, I wouldn’t survive. No tournament game would matter. No orphaned child would matter. I couldn’t do any of it without her.

When I felt her hand cradle the back of my head, I almost dropped the rest of the way to the floor. If I hadn’t been clutching her so tightly, I probably would have. Tears burned as I clenched my eyes shut, and I was sure Raine’s shirt was getting soaked with them. I didn’t care. None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was holding on to her.

“Don’t go,” I pleaded again.

“I’m not going,” she said quietly. “I’m right here, Bastian. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” I cried. Raine said something under her breath, but I couldn’t hear it through my own sobbing. Her hand ran through the hair on the back of my head as she sunk down to her knees and held my head against her shoulder.

We stayed like that for a long time, kneeling on the floor and holding on to each other. I wrapped my arms underneath hers and up around her shoulders, trying to keep her as close to me as possible. Even though she said she wouldn’t leave, I was afraid she could change her mind at any moment.

The dizziness of overindulgence wrapped itself around my head. My nose was stuffed up, and I couldn’t breathe properly. A moment later, my stomach joined the party.

Fuck.

“Gonna be sick,” I muttered as I pushed away from her. I blundered my way into the bathroom just in time to fall against the toilet and start puking. My stomach heaved and my hands shook. My back arched as my body tried to eliminate all the shit I had put into it. I could hardly hold myself up when I was done, but Raine was right there with her hand on my shoulder, offering me a glass of water.

I rinsed my mouth and spat into the toilet before reaching up to flush it.

“What the hell happened with the toothpaste?” Raine mumbled quietly.

I glanced up to see her picking my toothbrush off of the floor and wiping the paste out of the sink. She carefully distributed a little onto the brush and knelt beside me.

“Do you think you’re done?” she asked.

I thought about it for a second before nodding.

“Do you need help with this?” She held up the brush, and I shook my head. “I’ll be in the bedroom when you’re finished.”

My head was a little clearer as I leaned against the sink and cleaned myself up. I brushed my teeth, splashed water all over my face, and looked at myself in the mirror. My normally blue eyes looked almost purple with all the bloodshot lines running through them. I was pale, and my hair was a mess. I tried to calm it with my fingers before I put everything away as best I could and headed to the bedroom.

I looked at Raine where she sat up on her side of the bed. She had the blankets pulled back on my side, so I crawled in beside her, reaching out tentatively. I was relieved and a little surprised when she accepted my embrace and pulled me close to her.

“What happened, Bastian?”

“I ordered a drink,” I whispered.

“Where?”

“Bar Crudo.”

“The place down the block?”

“Yes,” I said. “I go there every day.”

“You go to that bar every day?”

I nodded.

“And…and what?” her voice broke. “You usually just sober up before I get home?”

“No!” I looked up to her, pleading. “I never have before—I swear. I’m there every day, but I never order anything. This was the first time. Please believe me, Raine—this was the only time. I didn’t mean to…it just…it just happened.”

Raine’s lips mashed together as she stared at me.

“I don’t know if I should believe you or not,” she said.

“I swear,” I repeated. “I never drank anything there or at that other place.”

“What other place?”

Shit.

I really wasn’t handling this well. I was just sober enough after puking to know how much worse I was making it.

“There was one other bar I went to,” I admitted. “That night I got pissed and left you with Lindsay and Nick.”

“That’s why you were gone so long,” she surmised.

“Yeah,” I admitted, “but I didn’t drink anything, not a drop.”

She nodded her head slowly. I wasn’t sure if she believed me or not, but when she started stroking the back of my head, I decided not to care right at the moment. I tucked my head into her shoulder. She smelled so nice, and her hands were warm on my head. I felt my dick getting hard from the proximity of her body, and I pulled her a little closer.

“My cock still wants you,” I said.

“I kind of doubt you are up for that right now,” Raine replied tersely.

“It’s up for it,” I countered. “Anytime I’m near you.”

“I’ve noticed that.”

I debated if I should confess about the cage fighting but decided against it. She might have forgotten about me coming home battered, and I didn’t want to make an already painful situation worse by adding additional transgressions. I thought affirmation was a better idea.

“All I ever want is you,” I proclaimed. “Even when that other girl touched me, I just thought about you and came back home.”

Raine tensed.

“What girl?” she asked. Her voice was hard and flat. Her hand cupped my cheek, and she turned my head to face her. Raine’s eyes were dark, and I realized what I had just said.

Ah, fuck.

Bad affirmation.

“What girl?” she demanded.

“At the other bar,” I whispered.

“What other bar?”

“Um…” I stammered. “Over in Hialeah.”

Raine continued to stare at me.

“I didn’t touch her,” I said. “She touched me, but I left.”

“What do you mean, she touched you?”

A whole new typhoon of panic swirled around me as I tried to figure out how to tell her what had happened without bringing up the fighting. Thinking about the fighting made me realize she still knew nothing about my talk with Landon and about what I was going to have to do. I was still too intoxicated to make any sense, and I knew if I opened my mouth, all the wrong shit was going to come out of it.

“Bastian, tell me what the hell you are talking about!”

“I can’t,” I said. “Not right now…please? I have to tell you, but I can’t right now.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” She started to push away from me, but I clung on.

“There’s shit I gotta do—for you…for him…” I babbled, not even completely sure I knew what I was saying. “I gotta do it, Raine. I don’t want to, but I have to.”

“I don’t understand!” Raine insisted.

I knew I wasn’t explaining myself well; there just wasn’t anything else I could say. I was too fucked up to tell her I had to fight again, and every word out of my mouth was the wrong one. Anything I said could and would be held against me and with good reason.

I reverted to the single phrase that couldn’t get me into more trouble.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” I mumbled against her neck over and over again.

“Why, Bastian?” she asked. “Why did you do this now? If you’ve been going to that place every day, why did you take a drink today?”

I squeezed my eyes closed, gripped her tightly against me, and took a deep breath.

“I have a son,” I whispered.

My declaration was made. At least for now, we’d leave it at that.