Page 42 of Colton
“No. My head’s pretty hard.” He almost sounds like he’s bragging and my blood-pressure skyrockets.
“I guess it needs to be if you’re going to be stupid enough to keep fighting.”
Declan chokes, slapping his chest. “Ah, maybe me and Mia can go play while you two talk? Mia, want to show me your toys?”
She tucks a finger in the corner of her mouth, worried eyes moving from me to Colt. Finally, she nods, leaning into Declan’s arms. He spreads his hand on her back, lips curving. He heads further into my apartment, and Ransom shoves Colt out of the way to join them.
Despite the battered man standing in my doorway, I have to laugh. These men are so clearly in love with my little girl. It’s bittersweet, seeing how much love she’s getting from everyone here when her own grandparents can’t be bothered to meet her. I’m grateful for these people as much as I’m furious with my family. These men understand that blood doesn’t make a family. Love and commitment do. It’s a lesson my parents clearly never learned.
“Evie, I’m so—.“
“Not here. I will not do this near my daughter. I can’t yell at you the way I intend to here.”
Pulling my door closed, I march to the elevator, slapping the button to open the doors. Colt files in behind me, silent. I can feel his stare, but I don’t look at him as the tide of my anger rises. I slap the button for his floor.
At his door, I use my handprint to unlock it. I tap the scanner. “When did this happen?”
“I programmed you in as soon as you moved in.” His voice is wooden, eyes on the floor.
“Why?”
“In case you needed me.”
“In case I needed you,” I repeat slowly. I walk into his apartment, moving to the open space in his great room. “Needed you for what, exactly?”
He scratches his fingers through his beard, eyes locked on me. “Anything. In case you needed me for anything.”
My hands plant on my hips. “I see. Well, that’s a nice sentiment, but after this morning, I will never let myself into your apartment again. Who knows what we’ll find next time?”
He winces. “I never wanted you to find me like that. I am so sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Which part? The finding you, or the fighting?”
He hesitates, and I detonate. “How dare you! We believed in you. You inserted yourself into our lives and made us depend on you. And then you pull this shit? Where were you? Tell me exactly what it is you did last night.”
He exhales heavily, locking his hands behind his head. “I’ve been picking up fights for years. It’s not sanctioned, just a bunch of people in a warehouse fighting in a cage. I…fought for a while.”
“A while? How many men did you fight?”
He turns away and growls.
“Look at me and answer the fucking question,” I order him.
He swings back, not meeting my eyes. “Six. I fought six men.”
Nausea rises, my mouth pooling with saliva. I swallow it down, forcing myself to breathe until it settles. Colt’s watching me with tired eyes.
“What does that really mean, Colt? Are there referees? Do you go a certain number of rounds?”
“No refs. The only way to end a fight is tap-out or knock-out.”
Tears fill my eyes. “Why? Why would you do that? Why would you do that to yourself? Help me understand because, from my perspective, it sounds pretty sick.”
He presses his palms to the top of his head. “I’ve always been a fighter. That’s always been my role. Protecting my brothers, protecting what’s ours. That used to mean using my fists, but as the business grew, so did my security team. I wasn’t out cracking heads anymore. We were running surveillance and installing security systems.”
“You couldn’t beat on people anymore, so you found people willing to get in a ring with you?”
He winces. “Sort of. There’s simplicity in the fights. Just me against him. No bullshit. It’s about skill, power, and mental strength. There’s no room in that ring for anything but us.”
