Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance(140)

“This is about the blackmail,” I said.

There was silence from the other two guys.

“What blackmail?” the manager said finally.

“Trent, we know it’s you. Stop the shit,” I said.

For a second, Trent didn’t respond. Dave started to say something but was cut off when Trent finally started to laugh.

That pissed me off. I had to lower the phone and close my eyes, working hard not to rage hard again.

“—such a mistake,” Trent was saying as I brought the phone back to my ear.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be here for this,” his manager said.

“Stay,” I grunted. “Trent, we need to finish this now.”

“What the fuck are you thinking, Cole? This is embarrassing. What are you even talking about, blackmail?”

“I have a deal for you,” I said.

He was silent for a second. “I’m listening.”

“If I win the match, you destroy every copy of those pictures you have and forget about your blackmail shit.”

“Why would I do any of that? Assuming I know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Because if you win our match, I will quit fighting forever.”

There was more silence on the line. “That’s interesting,” he said.

“You’ll have destroyed me. You win the match and I’m fucking finished. You have the pictures and my fucking career in the palm of your hand.”

“Trent—” Dave the manager said.

“How do I know you’ll follow through?” Trent said, cutting him off.

“Dave is our witness. He’ll draw up contracts, do whatever legal shit he needs to do to make it real.” I paused for a second. “But I give you my word as a man that I’ll follow through.”

Trent was quiet for a second.

“I don’t think this is legal, like, at all,” Dave said.

“Shut up, Dave,” Trent said. “You serious about this, Cole?”

“Serious.”

“Okay,” he said finally. “Let’s do it.”

“Guys,” Dave the manager said, “I really don’t think I can be a part of this.”

“Dave, if you don’t fucking draw up some contracts to make this thing real, then I swear I will tell your wife about those strippers you fucked in Canada last year.”

Dave sputtered something noncommittal and surprised, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Dave?” Trent asked. “Your marriage or the contracts.”

“Fine,” Dave said.

“Classic move, Trent,” I said. “Blackmail seems to be your thing.”

“See you in the ring, shithead.”

There was a click.

“He hung up,” Dave said.

“I know. Email me the papers. I’ll send you the signed copies.” I paused. “You should consider dropping him as a client.”

I hung up and crossed my arms, leaning my head against the wall.

That was it. I was putting everything on the line for this fight. My relationships and my career hung in the balance. If I won, the blackmail was over, and I could have Alexa however I wanted her.

But if I lost, well, everything was finished. I wasn’t going to lose. I couldn’t lose. It just wasn’t in my fucking nature.

I tossed my phone back into my bag and began to clean up the basement, feeling lighter and happier than I had in a long time.





17





Alexa





I couldn’t believe what Cole was willing to risk.

I had watched as Cole stormed out of my room, not sure what he was doing, but I knew he needed space. I was leaning against my headboard, flipping through Facebook, when he walked back into the room.

“It’s done,” he said, sitting down at my desk.

“What is?”

“Everything. The fight in a few days is going to fix everything.”

I put my phone down, raising an eyebrow. “What did you just do, Cole?”

His grin was huge and cocky. “Just had a little chat with Trent and his business manager.”

“No. Cole, what did you do?” I felt panic rising up inside me.

“Relax,” he said. “It’s all good. I didn’t threaten to murder him or anything like that.”

“Okay, that’s a start. What happened?”

“Well,” he said, stretching lazily, “I made a deal. If I win the fight, he gives me the pictures.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And if he wins?”

“I retire from fighting forever.”

I stared at him, my mouth dropped open. “You can’t risk that.”

“I already did.”

“No. Go back on the deal. I don’t care what you have to do, but don’t go through with this.”

“Sorry, wife,” he said, standing, “but his manager is drawing up the papers. It’s a done deal.”