Untamed (A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance)(57)

I push my lips together. “What are you talking about?”

“God damn it,” he begins, running his hands through his hair. He opens his mouth to elaborate, but the front door downstairs bursts open, and I hear Dad walk in swearing with Frank.

“Deidre? Duncan?”

“Dad!” I call.

“Get the fuck down here now!”

Duncan and I meet eyes, then slowly descend the stairs.

Dad’s huffing, looks at Duncan first, then at me.

“Good job getting out of there,” he says to both of us, and starts to calm down. “That got close. They thought you were a fucking ex-pro. Thought I was playing dirty. They didn’t believe you’d never fought a match in your life.”

I glance at Duncan, but his mouth is just a thin, grim line.

“And you, Jesus Christ,” Dad says, turning on me.

“Glass,” Duncan says, stealing back his attention. “What did you offer them?”

“What?”

“They didn’t just let you walk out.”

“Do you know who the fuck I am, boy?” Dad asks, his temper flaring instantly.

“Don’t fucking do that,” Duncan growls, silencing the outburst. “Don’t you dare fucking start that shit up. Tell me the truth.”

My eyes grow wide. I’ve never heard anyone talk to Dad like that. He seems totally checked by it.

“Those men in there thought you cheated them tonight, and they put money down. It might not have been much, but I know what the fuck you all are like. Can’t even stand to lose a dime if it offends your warped sense of honor. So you had better fucking tell me what fucking deal you made.”

Dad starts stammering, and Duncan pushes out a forearm against his neck, backs Dad up against the wall.

“Duncan!” I cry, but he pays me no attention.

“What deal did you make, Glass?”

“I said they could bring in anybody they wanted to,” Dad says. “To fight you. Double or nothing on all losses tonight.”

“Anybody,” Duncan says, shaking his head with what seems to me to be disgust.

“What do you mean?” I ask, looking at Dad.

“Ex-pros, people with proper training and experience is what I mean,” Dad says. His eyes snap back to Duncan. “But don’t worry, you’re fucking magic in the cage, boy. I’m not afraid of anybody they bring in. They couldn’t find a fighter on this continent that could match you. It’ll be a cakewalk, and we’ll win our money fair and square.”

“Huh,” Duncan says, and he grits his teeth together for a moment.

“Don’t act like you didn’t play a part in this,” Dad says. “You could have milked the fights a little longer!”

Duncan turns around, hands on his hips, breathing quick.

“The other families are pissed at us?” I ask Dad, and he nods slowly at me.

Duncan looks at me, and his eyes grow sad. They lose their shine, their blue energy.

“Fine,” he says to Dad. “For now.”

“You’ll have to put on a show,” Dad warns.

Duncan just waves him off, and starts climbing back up the stairs.

I turn to Dad. “Put on a show?”

“He’s going to have to take a beating. Make the fights last.”

“What! Why?”

“It’s a cock-fight,” Dad says. “We want to watch the cocks… fight. If people think he has a chance of losing, then they’ll put down money.”

I shake my head slowly. I don’t know what to say to that.

“Frank and I will be gone for a while,” Dad says. “Still some smoothing out to be done. Congratulations, Deidre.”

I blink, confused. “For what?”

Dad looks taken-aback. “For graduating, of course.”

I blink again.

What a long and crazy day it’s been.





Chapter Twenty





The walls rattle, and I hear the familiar sound of the house’s old pipes groaning to life.

“Duncan?” I call, walking upstairs. The bathroom door is open, and a straight column of light partially fills the hallway.

I walk past the doorway, see him standing behind the fogged up glass of the shower. His body is blurred by all the steam, but I can see that he is running his hands through his hair, like he’s stressed out to hell and back.

“You okay?” I say, feeling a little silly for even asking it. It could very well be that he is not okay after hearing what Dad just told us, that he’s going to be facing the best of the best as nothing but a rookie fighter, even if he is exceptional already.

But I have to ask it… I realize I genuinely care. I want to know if he’s not okay. I want him to tell me so.

I don’t get a reply, though, and so I figure he probably wants to be alone. I decide to leave him to himself for a bit, let him shower in peace.