Wrong (A Bad Boy Romance)(123)
He nods toward it. “Open it. Take a look.”
I study his face for a second, looking for some kind of clue there, but he just cocks an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his elbows. So I open the envelope and pull out the contents.
It’s a catalog from UCLA. Inside the catalog is a sheaf of papers with specific classes, including the schedule for the upcoming semester. A couple of them even have a syllabus included.
I stare at it for a minute, unable to process exactly what I’m looking at. Then I notice the class information pages all have my name on them, with the number of credits listed for each class. There’s also an invoice. It’s marked “Paid.”
No, this can’t be what I think it is. I look up at Cain, dumbfounded, feeling the edges of my eyes going hot.
He’s got a smile on his face like nothing I’ve ever seen on him. It’s gentle and open and loving and insufferably smug all at the same time. Gently he says, “You need to follow your heart, babe. This will get you started.”
“You…signed me up for classes?”
“Yep. You’re all set for that degree. I want to see you as a PA.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “You’ll be great at it. I mean, you’re great at taking care of me, right?”
Hot tears slide down my cheeks before I can do anything to stop them. I can’t believe he’s done this. “Cain… I don’t know what to say.”
He kisses me again, this time on the mouth, and uses a thumb to smooth the tears off my face. “Say you’ll be there for the first day of the semester, and that you’ll give it all you’ve got and make straight As.”
I shake my head, unbelieving. “I’ll be there for the first day of the semester, and I’ll give it all I’ve got. I’m not guaranteeing the As—these are hard courses.”
He grins. “You can do it. I know you can.”
I look down at the papers again. These are hard courses, but just looking at the names of them makes my heart flutter with excitement. I can’t wait to get started. But…
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of, but what about you and your dreams? Isn’t there something you want to do? Beyond fighting? Beyond…” I pause, second-guessing myself, but in the end I go ahead and say it. “Beyond following my father’s orders?”
He nods slowly. “There are things I’ve wanted. When I was a kid, all I wanted was a family. Then I just wanted a place—somewhere—somewhere I felt like I belonged. Then it was winning my first fight, then it was coming to LA where I could send my career farther up the professional circuit.” He pauses, shakes his head a little. “Fighting is all I know, Jess. It’s all I’ve ever done. There shouldn’t be any shame in making a living at what you’re good at.”
I grasp at his arm, desperate to get my point through to him. “But, Cain, you deserve everything you’ve ever wanted. And you could be so much more than just a fighter.”
His eyes flash for a moment and his mouth presses down to a thin line. I wonder if I’ve said too much. Inadvertently insulted him by implying that exactly what he is isn’t enough for me. But then his expression shifts, and I can tell he’s mulling something over. Finally he takes my arm and leads me toward the back of the locker room, into a corner. There’s no one else there, but I get the impression he doesn’t want to take a chance on anyone overhearing us.
“Here’s the deal, babe,” he says as he sits on a bench and gestures for me to do the same. His voice is low but urgent. “I’m not going to be your dad’s lapdog much longer.”
“What do you mean?”
He’s silent a moment then gives a decisive nod. “I got the new fight schedule and my instructions. Your dad wants me to throw the next fight—the one he keeps holding over my head. But I’m not going to throw it. I’m winning it.”
It takes me a few seconds to absorb what he’s just said. “Cain, you can’t. He’ll kill you. He told you that last time you won a fight you were supposed to throw.”
“I know he’ll want to. But I’m going to take the money, and take you, and we’re going to get the hell out of here. Go live our own lives. Make something real, just for the two of us.”
I’m crying again, but this time it’s in fear, not gratitude. “Cain. He will kill you. It doesn’t matter what we do or where we go, he’ll find us. Find you. Then where will I be? Back under his thumb, but this time I’ll be…” I break off, realizing what I was about to say. I bite my lip. God. I can’t tell him that. Not yet.