Page 38 of The Fighter

Chen eyed me for a long moment, then walked out, his bodyguards behind him. I bent down, encouraging Tav to stand. He was confused and disoriented, mumblingCon, but I shushed him.

When I got him to his feet, I turned and came face-to-face with Lary, who’d crossed the room to confront me.

The old man’s face was grim. “You can’t just take him.”

He had more balls than Chen. “And why’s that?”

Lary’s eyes roamed Tav’s body, where he was slumped in my arms. An expression came over his face, something tender, before it hardened and he faced me again. “He needs medical attention. Someone who’ll check him over, and better than these bastards do. I usually call an old friend who takes care of him.”

I would have snapped at him if I hadn’t seen the genuine concern in his eyes. And when Tav had been struggling to get out of the ring, none of Chen’s bodyguards, no handlers had been there to help him. Only this old man with arthritic knuckles and age spots. I respected him, because it was clear he cared about Tav. I didn’t know his role in this fucked up situation, but I was sure that he gave a shit about the trembling man in my arms.

I leaned forward and spoke softly. “I promise you he’ll get the best medical care money can provide.” I handed him my phone. “Type in your number.”

He took my phone with a shaky hand and stared at me for a minute before typing in his number with a few pecks of his index finger. He handed it back to me. “Have Husk call me.”

I slipped it into my pocket and nodded. “I will.”

Five minutes later Ben and I were opening the doors to the Bentley. After helping me settle a nearly comatose Tav in the back seat, he sat up front with Nik. Only when the car was five miles away from that fucking warehouse could I breathe easier.

The partition to the Bentley was up, and I pressed the button to speak to Nik in the front seat. “Arrange to have that place burnt down.”

“I did that a half hour ago,” Nik said. Ben chuckled.

I released the call button and turned to assess Tav. He fought to stay alert, his eyelids repeatedly falling closed before he jerked them back open. His pupils were blown, nearly blotting out his different colored irises.

His chest heaved, and panic still lurked in the tightness of his muscles, like he couldn’t let himself relax. Be vulnerable.

“Wha—?” He was confused, totally out of it as I cupped his bruised jaw. “Fuck, I’m ‘lucinating.’”

“Tav,” I said, “look at me.” He couldn’t seem to focus. “What hurts the most?”

He let out a long groan, and his fingers fluttered over his side. “Ribs. A’ways the ribs.”

I grabbed a water bottle and screwed off the cap. As best as I could, I held it so Tav could drink. He did so greedily, and the hydration seemed to help him somewhat. He squinted at me in the dim light of the car. “No way. You’re not… No.” He shook his head and shoved at me weakly. “Go ‘way.”

He thought his concussed brain was playing tricks on him. “It’s me, Con.”

“Nah,” he mumbled, head dropping to the window. “Con’s good. Not… doesn’t fight.”

I wasn’t as good as he thought I was. Not even close. “Tav?—”

“Smells like ‘im in here. A’ways smells ‘ood.” His eyes closed and he wrapped his arms around his torso protectively. “Miss‘im. Can’t go though. Can’t see ‘im. Need to stop. Too…” he licked dried blood from his lip. “Too dang’rous for ‘im.”

I smoothed his dirty, sweaty hair and lifted his head from the window before letting him rest on my shoulder. I held him there, petting his head as my heart swelled in my chest.

Ididfight. I fought hard. I fought dirty. And I fought until the end. Devlin might think he owned Husk, but that was about to end. Tav grunted and shifted at my side, and I realized that I’d curled my fingers into his skull. I released them one by one and took a deep breath.

He thought his life was too dangerous for me, but Tav had stumbled into the bed of Conrad Stafford, a.k.a Soto, and I was about to wreak havoc on this city to keep him with me.

FIFTEEN

Tav

My eyes wouldn’t open. I tried and then gave up, assuming they’d been stapled shut. That was rational, right?

Sure it was.

There was a buzzing sound, and I tried to lift my arm to swat it away, but I couldn’t really do that either. So maybe my arms were stapled to… I didn’t know. Something.