Unleashed (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) (79 page)

Chance grins, and wraps me up from behind. He smells my hair, and gives me a kiss. “I would love to.”

“Great, look, okay,” I say, holding onto his hands. I’ve decided not to fight it, not to fight him. There’s no point, and I like it when he holds me, when he wants me, when he takes me.

Because in two weeks he’s going to go back home, and I’ve decided I’m going to stay here in the UK. I’m going to apply for early student lodging, and I’m going to work over summer in the library of the university, and maybe do some waitressing at night.

I’ve decided that I’m not going back home. I don’t want to. The next three years of my life are here now, and I am still unhappy with Dad.

So I may as well make the most of it with Chance.

“We’ll go to the National Gallery first,” I tell him. “That’s one of the best art museums in the world, we’ll see a lot of cool stuff. And you’ll be able to see a lot of paintings of stuff boys like, you know, like ship wrecks.” I grin at him, flash my eyebrows. “There will also be plenty of nudes.”

“Tell me more,” Chance says.

“Watch it,” I say, pointing a finger at him. “Anyway, after that we’ll go to the British Museum. They’ve got an exhibition on mummies which is always cool, and a ton of other stuff including a series of award winning photographs of wildlife.”

“Sounds good, Cass.”

“Then, if we’re feeling up to it or if we still have time, we’ll hit the Natural History Museum. They’ll have a bunch of cool stuff there. I know it sounds like I’m just checking these off a list, but any time you go to London, you have to do all the museums. I mean, they’re world-class.”

“Cass, listen,” Chance says. His voice is a little less patient now.

“Then,” I say, holding up a finger. “We could go and eat at a pub. You know, try some authentic pub grub.”

“Cass, wait,” he says. This time his voice is urgent. He pulls me from the computer and turns me around.

“You don’t want to do that?” I ask.

“Listen to me!”

I frown. “Okay, okay. Jesus, what’s up with you?”

His expression is that of concern, and now it’s starting to make me worry. I’m the kind of person that dies a thousand deaths before it actually happens. My mind is racing through all the worst possibilities.

“Did your dad talk to you tonight?”

I blink. “Not really? I mean, he came back, said hello, and then went to his room to get ready for bed.”

“He didn’t tell you anything about what happened tonight?”

“No,” I say, mouth falling open. “Why? What happened?” My heart is hammering now. “What happened to Dad?”

Chance grits his teeth together. “Your fucking father should have told you.”

“Tell me!”

He hesitates, but then looks at me and relents. He opens his mouth to speak when there is a knock at the door.

“Cassie?”

It’s Dad’s voice. I go to the door and open it. He’s showered and cleaned up. His eyes go from me to Chance.

“Oh.”

“What do you need to tell me, Dad?” I demand. “Did you two get into a fight or something?”

Dad licks his lips. “Actually, yes.” He pulls down the collar of his sweater, and I see a bruise on his neck.

“Chance!” I cry, turning around at him, appalled. “You hit my dad?”

Chance doesn’t reply, he’s just glaring at Dad angrily. What the hell went on between these two? I can’t believe I have to babysit my stepbrother and my father at the same time.

“It’s not like that, Cassie,” Dad says. Behind him, in the doorway, Chance’s mother appears.

“Oh for God’s sake, Kyle, can we just get this over with? What’s this important thing you need to tell us?”

They both come into the room, and we all stand around the coffee table.

“Just tell me, Dad,” I say, growing more nervous by the passing second.

He sighs, rubs his hands together. I’ve never seen him so nervous in his life.

“I’m in some trouble,” he begins. He holds up his hand when I go to interrupt. “Just let me speak, Cassie. In Las Vegas last week, I lost some money. I borrowed some to win it back, but ended up losing that, too.”

I shake my head at him, palms facing the ceiling.
What the hell?

“It’s bad,” he says.

Chance’s mother holds her head in her hand. The disappointment in her voice silences the room for a moment. “Oh, Kyle…”

Dad looks between us all, and then says, “So I got a tip from a business associate. I learned there was a big underground fight happening here in London, and that the favorite was going to tank the fight. Since we were coming out here anyway to see your campus, Cassie, I thought it would be a good way to win the money back. I took out another loan. The fight was tonight.”

I blink. “Dad…?”

“He didn’t throw the fight. So I lost that. I think that it would be best, Cassie, if you don’t return home with me until I can sort this out. The people I borrowed from are bad people. And you, Deborah, I think we should go back separately.”

“You’re damn right we will, Kyle,” she says, voice shaking. “And we’re annulling the marriage.”

“What?”

“You heard me. It was stupid to begin with, and I’m not going down with you if you’re in trouble.”

I look between the two. Chance’s mother, my father. Somehow they got married, somehow they said the words
‘I Do’
to each other, and now they seem one step away from being at each other’s throats.

They’re certainly about to end the marriage.

What sacred covenant?

What cherished promise?

What a bunch of bullshit!

That’s when it clicks. I widen my eyes at him, feel a terrible and sad rage inside me. “That’s why you froze up when I asked sarcastically if you worked with mobsters before you went to Vegas.
Business associate?
What, do you launder money? Is that what you guys do?”

“Catherine—”

“Shut up, Dad!” I scream, falling into the sofa. “I
told
you not to go to Vegas! You could have been with me at my graduation, and then none of us would be in this situation right now!”

I just close my eyes, try to stop my spinning reality. One moment, everything is fine, the next, my own idiot father has gotten all of us into life-threatening trouble?

It’s too much to parse all at once. Should we run away? Should we go into hiding? Never return home to the United States?

Chance’s mother speaks now. “Is there any way out of this, Kyle? Can you borrow money against your house?”

“Don’t borrow any
more
money!” I cry. “Are you crazy?”

“Catherine—”

“There’s a way out,” Chance says. He’s been quiet the whole time, brooding in the corner, but now he steps forward. He plays with his zippo, clinking it open and closed. The metallic sound fills the room.

“Well?” Dad asks.

“I can fight, and you can put a bet on me. I went back, asked around. Kaminski’s a regular here, and so the odds will be the same or maybe even worse as with the kid today. Total long shot odds.”

“You were there?” I cry.

Chance looks at me, then nods. “I just stumbled on it. When I saw your Dad there—”

“Great! The both of you!”

“Listen,” he says. “I’ve followed Kaminski’s career. I know his every move. He’s a grappler, and so am I, but I’m better than him, especially at this stage of his career. I can beat him.”

“He’s got to have twenty pounds on you,” Dad says.

“He’s slower than me. I can take him.”

Dad touches his lips. “And we’d put in a bet on you?”

“A big bet,” Chance says. His deep voice is stony, flat. “It’s all or nothing right now. One last bet to get your idiot ass out of this. To get us all out of this. Can you think of something better?”

I balk at Chance. “You’re suggesting we do the very same thing that got us into trouble in the first place?”

I don’t even know what to make of it. Chance’s mother storms out of the room. His eyes go to her, and then back to me.

“I can win this fight, Cass. I saw him in there. He goes too hard, too fast, too early. That’s because his stamina is shit. I know his moves. He’s tired, looking for easy money. He won’t expect an opponent as well trained as me. My bet is that he only keeps track of the pros, not the pro-prospects like me. He won’t suspect a thing.”

“But it’s no sure thing?” Dad asks. I glare at him.

“No.”

“I can’t ask you to do this,” Dad says. He slaps his thighs.

“I wouldn’t be doing it for you, dipshit.” Chance looks at me. “I’d be doing it for her. And for my mother.”

I shake my head, look away. This is insanity. “Can’t we just call the police?”

“I owe money, Cassie,” Dad says. “To some bad people. The police can’t protect us.”

Tears blink out of my eyes. I’m heartbroken. “Get out, Dad.”

“Cath—”

“Get out!” My voice cracks, and I get up from the sofa and fall onto the bed. I can’t believe this is happening.

As Dad leaves, I hear him say to Chance, “It’s up to you.”

The door clicks shut. The silence between Chance and me is stifling.

“Cass,” he begins, coming toward me.

“I don’t want you fighting my Dad’s battles. He can get in that ring himself for all I care.”

“Cass, they’ll use anyone to get to him, to force his hand. That means my mother. That means… you.”

“This is too much,” I tell him, shaking my head. “You can’t make this kind of commitment to me.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Chance,” I say. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. I need to think about it.”

But he doesn’t listen. Of course he doesn’t. He climbs onto the bed with me. I turn away from him, show him my back, so he just wraps an arm around me, and holds me.

And we lie like that for who knows how long… his breathing is so steady, mine panicked. His huge hands hold onto mine, are still as stone and hot as burning coals. Mine tremble inside him.

I hate to feel selfish, hate to be self-centered, but all I can think about is how my world is falling apart.

I may not be able to go to college in England anymore.

I had a plan. I had it all mapped out!

My laptop screen comes to life on its own, and there I see my itinerary for tomorrow.

Another plan ruined.

Eventually I ask him, “You think you can win?”

“I got more to lose,” he tells me. “So of course I will win.”

“He’s good?”

“Yeah, an ex-pro, semi-retired.”

“Bigger than you?”

“Yeah.”

“Stronger?”

“Probably.”

“Faster?”

“Definitely not.”

I turn around in his arms, and he presses his forehead against mine, sweeps hair out of my eyes.

“It’s as bad as it sounds, isn’t it?”

“Probably worse,” he says. “God knows what kind of people your pops got caught up with.”

I shut my eyes and sigh. “I find myself hating Dad a lot these days. I feel like I don’t know him anymore. He’s so different… ever since he got that promotion.”

“He wasn’t always a dick?”

Despite my feelings, I laugh. “Believe it or not, no.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Chance leans in, gives me a kiss. I clamp onto his lip, feeling a surging need to be close to him, to be distracted from all of this.

But a knock at the door breaks our kiss. His mother’s voice drifts into the room: “Chance, come outside, please.”

“You’d better go,” I tell him. “You need to talk to her about this.”