Shattered (12 page)

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Authors: Natalie Baird

Tags: #bad boy romance contemporary fighter romance fighter romance coming of age romance rock star romance na romance new adult romance

BOOK: Shattered
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“Not after tonight, it won’t be,” I said,
trying to boost his confidence.

“Why don’t you finish getting ready,”
Anderson said, walking out of the bathroom, “I’m going to fix
something to eat before the match.”

He walked away from me, a foreign tension
rippling through his shoulders and back. I bit my lip anxiously,
turning back toward the mirror. Had I been wrong to tell him what
I’d been thinking? There was no taking my words back, of course,
but a creeping dread had started to take root within me. I’d been
so excited about the fight that morning, but now I was having
doubts. I could only pray that the night would go well, and go in
our favor. Otherwise, Anderson might adopt Robert’s view and come
to think of me as a burden.

I scowled at myself in the mirror and I
curled my hair between my fingers. Surely I was just being overly
sensitive. Robert probably hadn’t even been mad at me that first
night. Probably, he’d just been worried for Anderson, miffed about
how the fight was going. That didn’t mean that he was angry with me
personally. I knew that I’d see him at the fight later that
evening, and decided to straighten things out. After all, Robert
was one of the most important people in Anderson’s life—I wanted to
be on good terms with him.

 

 

Chapter
Seven

 

Finally, the night was upon us. Anderson and
I set out from the apartment together and headed downtown once
more. A limo was waiting on the curb for us as we walked out of the
building. Anderson held the door open for me, ever the gentleman,
and I climbed inside the vehicle.

“Hello Kaela,” said a voice from the
backseat.

I let out a shrill scream and flattened
myself against the seat, peering into the darkness. Anderson lunged
into the car after me, ready for a fight. I watched his expression
morph from outraged to amused as he looked to see who was waiting
for us.

“Robert,” he said, relieved. My vision
stopped swimming with panic, and the three figures sitting across
from me in the limo came into focus. Robert Hunt was there, flanked
by his two body guards once again. A steely smile was plastered
onto his face, and I could tell that he had hoped not to see me
again.

“I hope you don’t mind us coming along for
the ride,” Robert said to Anderson.

“It’s your limo,” Anderson replied.

The car pulled away from the curb and carried
us through the city. A moment of tense silence fell over us,
suffocating me where I sat. But for all the negativity streaming
from Robert’s direction, Anderson didn’t seem to notice one
bit.

“I figured you’d just meet us after the
match,” Anderson said to Robert.

“Oh, I just wanted to touch base with you
beforehand,” Robert responded. “I didn’t expect to be graced with
Kaela’s presence.”

“You didn’t?” I asked, my voice very
small.

“Why didn’t you think Kaela would be coming?”
Anderson asked.

Robert smiled, baring his two perfect rows of
pearly whites. “Well, it didn’t seem like you were very interested
in the last match,” he said to me.

Anderson looked to me, hurt by the
suggestion. “I was very interested,” I said firmly.

“But surely the violence made you a bit
squeamish?” Robert pressed.

“Not at all,” I told him. I knew what he was
up to. He was trying to turn Anderson against me, trying to
convince him that I didn’t care about his passion. Well, I wasn’t
going to let some bully get the best of me, even if he was a
particularly terrifying and powerful bully.

“My mistake,” Robert drawled, leaning back in
his seat, “I must have imagined it.”

The conversation fell to shop talk as we
continued on, and I let my eyes gaze despondently out the window. I
didn’t know what I’d done to earn Robert’s contempt, but it was
beginning to wear on me. I felt separated from Anderson in a new,
uncomfortable way. I had a feeling that Anderson’s devotion to
Robert ran much deeper than I’d first thought, and vice versa. I
had let myself imagine that I was the person closest to Anderson,
but suddenly I felt doubtful. How many women had Robert watched
come and go from Anderson’s life? Was I just another passing
fling?

Finally, the limo rolled up before the red
door with the silver number eight. Robert counted up our little
party and scowled. “Five is too many to go in at once. It’s poor
form to send more than three people in at the same time. Anderson,
you go ahead with the boys and get ready. Kaela and I will
follow.”

My stomach turned to lead at the suggestion,
but Anderson seemed unperturbed. “OK,” he said, “Sounds like a
plan. Kaela, I’ll see you after the match.”

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you in?”
I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

“It’s OK,” Anderson said, “I’m sure these
guys can take care of me.”

He planted an affectionate kiss on my cheek
and climbed out of the limo. I had to sit on my hands to keep from
grabbing onto his sleeve. The two lumbering bodyguards followed him
from the car and slammed the door, leaving me alone with Robert. I
swung my gaze toward him as bravely as I could. All the false
cheerfulness had drained from his expression—Robert looked at me
with utter contempt.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he growled,
his voice sending icy fear running through my veins.

“What do you mean?” I asked, fighting to keep
my body from trembling.

“I thought I made it perfectly clear that I
didn’t want you back here gain,” Robert continued, leaning
menacingly toward me, “I don’t want you anywhere near Anderson. Are
you so dense that you didn’t understand that?”

“Anderson asked me to stay with him,” I said,
“He asked me to stay in his apartment. To come to his fights. He
wants me here.”

“He wants a piece of ass,” Robert spat, “And,
by the looks of you, I’m sure he’s already gotten in a hundred
times over.”

Anger mixed with the overwhelming fear that
was blooming inside of me. “I don’t think I like what you’re
implying,” I said to Robert.

“What,” Robert said, “That you’re a cheap,
fickle little slut who wanted a piece of someone more famous,
attractive, and successful than you? For god’s sake, look at you.
Do you really think you’re good enough for Anderson Cole?”

“Anderson seems to think so,” I shot back,
ignoring his hurtful diatribe as best I could, “And that’s good
enough for me.”

“Anderson is a boy,” Robert said, “A boy who
doesn’t know what’s best for him. I’ve known him since he was an
infant in his mother’s arms. He’s never had any idea what was good
for him. Clearly, he still doesn’t. It’s always been up to me to be
the voice of reason for Anderson, to steer him toward what’s right.
Sometimes, it proves to be a difficult, ugly task, but it’s one
that I perform gladly.”

Chilly terror descended over me as Robert’s
intense blue eyes flamed with anger. “What if he doesn’t want your
help?” I asked, “What if he wants to live his own life, without
you?”

“Anderson has no life without me,” Robert
said, “I’ve given him everything. Everything in the world. I’ve
done everything in my power to give him the best life that anyone
could possibly dream of. And here’s the thing, sweetheart—that
dream most certainly does not include you.”

“I don’t think that’s your call,” I said
angrily.

Robert let out a cold bark of laughter. “I
control Anderson’s finances, career, home, and comfort. I’m pretty
sure that all the shots are mine to call.” He straightened his tie
and pushed open the car door. “Time for the show, I’d say.”

“Anderson’s expecting me in there,” I said,
“He’ll only get thrown off if I don’t show.”

“Oh, I know,” Robert said, “We wouldn’t want
that, would we?”

He held out his hand to me, offering to help
me out of the car. I stared at him incredulously, afraid and angry
with him for all he’d said. Still, I wasn’t ready to give up. If
Robert really did control Anderson’s entire life, I’d find a way to
make nice with him. I took his hand, stifling a shudder as I did
so. We walked to the red door, the unnoticeable entryway to
Anderson’s underground world. I expected Robert to mutter a
password, like I’d had to the first night. But as we approached the
portal, the door swung open before us as if it was enchanted.
Robert laughed at my surprised expression.

“I’m rather important around here,” he said
drolly.

“Clearly,” I said.

We stepped into the darkness together, and
the door snapped shut. I’d fumbled through the pitch blackness the
first time I’d ventured through the red door, but Robert walked
with authority. He obviously knew this place like the back of his
well-manicured hand. We walked down the gently sloped hallway in
silence. My high heels clicked against the hard ground, echoing in
the close quarters. Finally, we drew up before the second doorway,
and I held my breath as the blackness opened before us.

I flinched as the blaring music and bright
lights hit me full in the face once more. Robert grinned at me
meanly, tugged me over the threshold and into the chaos. His
bodyguards were waiting at the entrance, and moved to their places
beside him at once. Robert dropped my hand and made off into the
crowd, leaving me to scurry behind him like a serving wench.

Though the arena had been overwhelming the
first time around, it seemed even more colossal that night. There
were even more people jammed into the space, chattering and
yelling, smoking potent cigars and sipping fine liquor. I could
feel eyes following me as I made my way through the crowd, surely
people recognized me as the girl who had been with Anderson the
week before. I wondered if they all despised me as much as Robert
seemed to—though his was a pretty high level of contempt to
match.

We made our way to the special box seats once
more. This time, Robert wasted no breath with cordiality. He sank
into his seat and ignored me as I sat beside him. When he sent Roy,
the bodyguard, away for some bourbon, he didn’t bother asking me if
I wanted something to drink. He kept his gaze averted, refusing to
acknowledge my presence. I did my best not to care, to carry on
with the fun and exciting event as though nothing were wrong. But I
had never been a good liar, and I was especially bad at fooling
myself. It was shaping up to be a rather lousy evening.

“Anderson said the other guy’s pretty good,”
I said, trying like hell to make small talk.

“Pretty good?” Robert scoffed, “Yes,
sweetheart. ‘Pretty good’ is one way to put it. Another way is damn
near undefeated.”

“I’m sure Anderson will still win,” I said
with a determined smile.

Robert turned his icy blue eyes toward me.
“For your own sake, you’d better hope that he does.”

“What?” I said, my heart racing, “What’s that
supposed to mean?”

But a sudden roar from the crowd drowned out
my voice. Robert smiled wickedly and put a finger to his lips.
It’s starting
, he mouthed, turning to the ring. The blasting
lights swung overhead and washed over the fighting pit as the
announcer took to the microphone.

“Gentlemen!” the voice blared above the din
of the crowd, “Welcome once again to our fine establishment. This
week’s first fight is sure to leave you all seeing stars. We have
two incredible fighters facing off. First, please welcome back one
our most talented warriors, and our still undefeated champion,
Anderson Cole!”

I leaned over the railing as Anderson strode
into the pit. My fingers tightened on the golden rail, my nerves
rattling. I had no idea what Robert’s threat had meant, but I could
tell that there was more riding on this fight than I could have
guessed. Anderson jogged a lap around the pit, his fists raised
triumphantly. Why was he acting so cocky down there? He hadn’t been
this way before the fight last week. Then, he’d been all focus and
raw energy. Now he seemed relaxed. Leisurely, even. I didn’t like
the look of his easy attitude one bit. A quick glance at Robert
revealed that he didn’t like it either.

“And facing off against our champion,” the
announcer went on, “Another fighter of impeccable skill. A somewhat
new arrival to our club, but a distinguished fighter in his own
right, please welcome Brayden Fusco!”

The assembled crowd let out a collective cry
of anticipation as the second fighter stalked into the ring. My
breath caught in my throat as I took in the man who’d be battling
Anderson. He was a good three inches shorter than Anderson and not
as broad, but that didn’t diminish his intimidating nature one bit.
He was compact, and looked like solid rock. His head was shaved
completely bald, and thick veins stood out in his muscular neck. If
Anderson was built like a marble statue, Fusco was built like a
wrecking ball—and I was fairly certain which would come out on top
in that matchup.

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