Score - A Stepbrother Romance (10 page)

Freaking
Band Aids.
Really? Did he honestly think he was that much of a manly-man that a little plaster would fix a cut like that?

Chase looked right at me. “You should’ve stayed in bed, Lina. I told them not to worry about calling you.”

“Like hell,” I growled. “We’re going to the hospital, right now!”

“
N
o
. Just take me home. I’ll be fine.”

I held my head and looked at Landon from the backseat of his car. He was in the front with Michaela, and Lina glared at me in the back. “Landon, don’t listen to him. Look at him! He needs to go to the hospital!”

Landon looked back at us, worry etching his features as he looked at my face. “That cut on your forehead is pretty bad, Chase. I think she’s right.”

Jesus, they were making such a big deal about this. Yes, it looked bad, but I knew what I was doing. I’d been hurt like this before, and Tripp and the doctor who was always at the fights had showed me what to do to patch myself up. The guy I’d fought tonight was in way worse shape, hence why the doctor had taken care of him first. All I needed to do was get this cut cleaned up, douse it with Betadine and stick some plasters on it.

“I’ll be fine. It looks worse than it is. Seriously, if we go to the hospital, it’ll be all over the news, and they’ll start wondering what happened to me. It won’t take them long to look into it and figure out the truth. I know of at least one reporter who has a whole network of nurses on speed dial. They give him info for cash if anyone well-known comes in.”

Lina grumbled. “I know you’re worried about your Dad’s campaign, but don’t you think your health is more important? I bet he’d think so too.”

“Wait…what about your Mom?” Michaela interjected, looking at Landon. “She’s a nurse. She could help.”

Landon sighed. “She’ll help, but she’ll probably still try to make us go to a hospital.”

“Well, let’s just ask her,” I said, realizing they weren’t going to give up. My head was aching like hell, and I needed to get it fixed pretty soon. “We’ll tell her I got mugged, and we want to keep it under wraps for now, just so my Dad doesn’t get worried.”

“Right, as if he won’t be worried when he sees you tomorrow, all bruised and cut up,” Lina muttered. “I knew this would happen. I knew this fighting thing was a bad idea for you to be doing.”

Landon turned his keys in the ignition and looked back at us again. “So where to? My place or the hospital?”

“Your place,” I said, and at the same time, Lina insisted on the hospital.

He rolled his eyes. “Look, guys, we don’t have time to keep arguing. Lina, I know you’re worried, but it’s up to Chase in the end. It’s his body.”

Lina crossed her arms. “Fine.”

We sat in silence as we drove to Landon’s place across town, and we piled out of the car and into his house twenty minutes later. Landon went upstairs, and he returned with a harried-looking woman in a dressing gown.

She took one look at me and gasped. “What on Earth?” she said. “What happened?”

“I told you, he got mugged outside a bar,” Landon said. “We need you to help patch him up. If he goes to the hospital, it’ll create this big media stink, and his Dad’s campaign really doesn’t need the drama right now. Right, Chase?”

I could hear Lina muttering under her breath next to me, and I ignored her. “That’s right.”

Landon’s mother peered at me. “I’ve seen you in the papers. You’re Peter Stryker’s son.”

“Yep.”

She sighed. “Okay. I don’t think this is a good idea, but if you refuse to go to a hospital, then I’ll try my best. Landon, run back upstairs and grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. And some towels.”

“Anything we can do?” Lina asked, gesturing to herself and Michaela.

“Get a bowl of warm water. The big bowls are in the second cupboard from the right in the kitchen. Now, Chase, you need to sit down and take your shirt off. I’m Ellie, by the way.”

“Thanks for helping me out, Ellie,” I said, taking a seat on a wooden dining room chair.

She pursed her lips as she assessed the damages and then raised her eyebrows. “Well, it’s actually nowhere near as bad as it looks,” she said. “Once it’s cleaned up, I’ll put some tissue adhesives on that big cut on your forehead, and it should heal up without too much of a scar within a week or so. The rest on your arms and chest are just small lacerations and bruises. They’ll be fine.”

I couldn’t help grinning at Lina as she walked back in, holding a bowl of water. “Hear that?” I said. “I was right. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

She glowered at me. “Glad to hear it,” she said, her voice stiff.

Ellie wet one of the towels with the warm water and cleaned all the blood off me, and then she doused me with Betadine. I winced at the stinging sensation as the antiseptic settled onto my skin, and she wiped it away a moment later.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “Stings pretty bad, I know. But it’s necessary to stop the cuts from getting infected. Okay, Landon, pass me those Band-Aids and adhesive strips.”

Ten minutes later, she’d put Band-Aids on the smaller cuts and carefully applied several adhesive strips vertically on my forehead, and she stood back and admired her handiwork a moment later.

“There we go,” she said, putting a large white dressing over the adhesive stitches. “Make sure you keep it clean and dry. If it starts oozing a lot, then I’m sorry, but you’ll need to go to a hospital whether you like it or not. Staph infections are no joke.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She sat down and stared into my eyes. “Chase, I know you don’t want to cause issues with your father’s campaign, but don’t you think you should at least file a police report about this mugging? You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t see why the media would get too up in arms about it. After all, you’re the victim in this scenario.”

“Er…I know, but my father’s opponent might try to spin it and use it against us. They might try to say I instigated the fight or something. Besides, I’m not even meant to be out at bars, seeing as I’m not twenty-one yet.”

I felt bad for lying to Ellie, as she’d helped me out so much, but I didn’t know what else to say. She wrinkled her forehead and finally stood up again. “Okay,” she said softly. “Feel better soon.”

Landon picked up his car keys. “I guess I should take you guys home.”

“Uh-huh,” Lina replied, barely looking at me. She was still pissed as hell at my refusal to seek proper medical help in a hospital.

We all got back into Landon’s car, and we drove in silence again. When we arrived home in Highland Park, Lina got out of the car and turned to face her friends in the front.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“All right. Talk to you soon.”

With that, she took off up the path, not even waiting for me. I got out and leaned in the front window. “Thanks, guys,” I said. “For your help, and bringing me home. And thanks for not saying anything to anyone about this. You guys are good friends to Lina. Anyone else would have sold the story to the media for an easy five grand.”

“No worries,” Landon said. “Don’t be too hard on her, okay? She was just concerned. We knew she would be; that’s why we called her.”

“I know.”

With that, I patted the car roof, and they took off. I stepped up the path and into the house, and I found Lina in the kitchen, quietly waiting for the kettle to boil.

“What are you doing?” I said.

“Making hot chocolate. I know you always make it for Lily to calm her down. Figured it might calm us down too.”

“Thanks.”

She grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard, and judging by the way she slammed them down on the counter, she still wasn’t entirely over what had happened.

“Careful,” I said. “It’s late. We don’t wanna wake everyone up.”

“They’re going to see you in the morning anyway,” she said, grabbing the milk out of the fridge. “And you’ll have to explain all those cuts and bruises somehow.”

“They won’t see the ones on my chest and arms if I cover up with clothes,” I said. “And as for this cut on my head…I’ll just say I fell down somewhere.”

She glared at me. “I suppose I have to back up that lie as well? Which is it, Chase? You got mugged, or you fell over?”

“Look, I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this.”

“I wish I’d never gone to that fight that first night,” she muttered, placing a steaming mug in front of me a moment later. “Then I wouldn’t even know about your stupid double life.”

Her words cut through me like a knife.

“Do you really wish that?” I asked softly, placing my hand on hers on the table.

She jerked it away. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “Sorry. I just hate keeping things from people. And what you’re doing is illegal.”

We didn’t speak again until we’d drained our hot chocolates, and then we trailed upstairs, exhausted from the long night.

“Wait,” she said as I was about to go into my room. “You’re bleeding again, through the back of your shirt. On the left. There must be another cut there which we missed earlier.”

I reached around and felt under my left shoulder. It was a little tender, but it didn’t feel like much of a cut. “I’ll put a Band-Aid on it.”

She sighed. “I’ll do it. You won’t be able to see exactly where to put it, seeing as it’s on your back. Take your shirt off.”

I grinned. “Ah, I see. You just want to get me naked again.”

She blushed. “Shut up. I’m going to get a Band-Aid from the bathroom cabinet.”

She returned a moment later, and I noticed she kept trying to avert her gaze from my chest, like she couldn’t stand to look at me in case she got turned on. Trying to keep the smirk off my face, I turned around, and she wiped the small cut with a tissue and then placed the plaster over it.

“There,” she said.

She turned to leave but apparently decided against it a second later. “You know what?” she said, spinning around to face me again. “I think I deserve an explanation.”

“About what?”

“About your fighting, and why I have to keep this secret for you. All you told me was that you do it for the thrill, but that’s bullshit. There’s gotta be more to it than that. So what is it? You’re mad at your Dad for cheating on your Mom, so you go behind his back and do shit you know would drive him insane?”

“Nope. I can’t stand some of the things my father’s done in the past, but I’ve tried to let that go. He’s got nothing to do with my fighting. I just like it. So what?”

She put her hands on her hips. “So
what
? Oh, let’s see—for one, you got hurt tonight. Aren’t you afraid of getting hurt again?”

“Nope. And by the way, I still won tonight.”

She rolled her eyes, as if that was so far from the point that I might as well be in Zimbabwe. “Okay, so what about the people you hurt? Those underground fights have less rules than regular ones, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So you could seriously hurt someone. You could even kill them. I mean, I heard you roughed up your opponent tonight pretty bad. Even worse than what he did to you.”

“Jesus, Lina, I’ve never killed anyone,” I replied, running my hands through my hair with an exasperated sigh.

“But you have hurt people badly, right?”

“Yes. It’s part of the deal. No one forces anyone to get in that cage. They know the risks when they get into it. So do I. That’s why I’m not pissed about almost getting beaten tonight. I knew the risk.”

She let out a deep sigh. “Does it make you feel good? Hurting them?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you think, Lina?”

She looked down at the floor and then peered back up at me through her dark eyelashes. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think I’m afraid to know.”

I took a step closer to her. “Hurting people doesn’t make me feel good. Just being in that cage makes me feel good.
Winning
makes me feel good. Okay?”

Her head jerked up again. “I still don’t get why you do it. You have a perfect life. You have all this money and privilege; you could do anything else. All the money you win from these matches…someone else who really needs it could be fighting for it instead.”

“Jesus, Lina. You make me sound like some sort of fucking monster, like I’m only doing it to take away opportunities from other people. You wanna know what I’ve been doing with my winnings?”

“What?”

“My first ever match, I was up against a pretty big guy. He looked tough, but he had no technique. I crushed him. Hurt him pretty bad, worse than I meant to. Fucked his right leg up. Dude is still getting physical therapy to walk properly again. He has a family to support. That’s why he was fighting. So I help him out now. Most of the money I win from my fights….it goes to him for his family and medical bills. The rest goes to a charity fund I’m saving up for. Okay? I’m not a total fucking monster.”

She looked ashamed, and I took another step closer. “So yes, I know I’m privileged. I have all this money from my trust fund, so you’re right, I guess I don’t
need
to fight for it. I just
want
to, and I help people out with the money I get from it. Is that so bad?”

I’d never told anyone that before. Not Tripp. Not even myself. Up until now, I’d convinced myself that I needed to fight, just for the thrill it gave me, but that wasn’t true. No, Lina was right. I didn’t need to. I simply wanted to.

Maybe she was right about the rest of the stuff as well. I was being a selfish prick by continuing with it. I hurt people. I got myself hurt. Lastly, I could seriously hurt my family if the news of what I was doing ever came out...and considering how the election campaign was heating up, it was only a matter of time until some private investigator from the opposition team came sniffing around my private life.

But shit, I still didn’t want to give it up. Not yet.

However, I didn’t want to give Lina up either. I knew she was going to be family soon, but I couldn’t keep lying to myself and pretending we could just be friends. She was a temperamental smartass most of the time, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to tear her clothes right off every goddamned time I saw her, just like I’d pictured so many times now. I didn’t think I’d ever stop wanting that.

I’d never wanted something so fucking badly in my life.

Goddammit. If I was ever going to earn her respect and really have a chance at being with her, I’d probably have to stop fighting. Till then, she’d never respect me; not as much as I wanted her to. She might be able to respect my strength and my prowess, but nothing else.