That thought fades as he continues.
“Saturday could be the first day of your new life. If you don’t lose, that is.”
I reply instantly. “I’m not going to lose. I got too much on the line, regardless of what’s in the bag. You want insurance I’m going to win, know that I’m faster, smarter, and a hell of a lot more determined than Bodhi Black ever was, is, or will be.”
I motion to Jeb. “And thanks to Bohannon, I’ve had the best fucking coaching staff in the city. I’m ready. I’ve lived this moment of victory a thousand times in the last month. Saturday, I make it a reality.”
Karas’s face smooths out, and one corner of his mouth rises. Approval glints in his eyes. “I believe you. I suppose Bohannon does too.” He turns to Jeb. “We’ll bring Legend back in thirty minutes. Keep up the good work, Coach.”
Then he gestures to the open back door of the Rolls. “Get in.”
Normally, I’d sputter about being told what to do, but let’s be honest. I’m about to ride in a fucking Rolls Royce for the first time in my life, and this dude is practically handing me a new lease on life.
I guess faith does just show up sometimes.
“Appreciate the lift,” I say with all the nonchalance I can muster and slide inside.
Jesus, even the leather feels like it’s too expensive to touch my sweat-soaked pants. The aroma in the air is better than anything I’ve smelled—except for Scarlett. And, holy fuck, there’s a big-ass silver hard-sided briefcase in the center that I have to lift myself over to settle in the seat.
Karas gets in and straightens his suit coat before looking at me. “I’m not an idiot, and I’m not risking you fighting for your life on the sidewalk over some cash.”
Some cash. I almost laugh at how casually he talks about what is definitely the most money someone’s ever given me at one time.
Once Karas’s driver climbs inside and shuts the door, virtually every noise from the city is muted.
“Damn,” I whisper, and Karas’s expression halfway approaches a grin.
“First time in a Rolls?” he asks as we pull away from the curb.
“Yeah. That obvious?”
He gives a small jerk of his chin. “Nah. You should’ve seen Holly.” Only when he mentions his wife does his expression soften to easygoing. “She didn’t know what to think about the money. I grew up surrounded by it, so I barely noticed anything like that anymore. Watching her experience things I took for granted was like getting a second chance to appreciate life. She changed everything for me.”
My mind goes straight to Scarlett, and I realize Karas might be one person who would understand what it was like for her to grow up surrounded by luxury.
“I always thought growing up with money would make everything easy,” I tell him as I wipe my hands on my pants before I dare touch the leather. “Never worrying about where your next meal was coming from. No hearing gunshots outside your door at night. Never having to fight for your life to make a buck.” I give my head a small shake. “But meeting Scarlett has taught me a lot that I didn’t get before.”
“I can imagine. I grew up with a completely different mindset; it was unavoidable. Privilege can also blind a person, and it rots plenty of them.”
“Yeah, and then you get someone like Scarlett who is as fucking true as they come. She’s genuine and honest, and I don’t think she could tell a good lie if she practiced in front of a mirror for a week. She wouldn’t realize if she was being scammed, because she thinks everyone has a good heart, just like her. She’s a fucking miracle.”
Karas chuckles quietly. “She and Holly would get along well then. Holly grew up with more than you, but much less than Scarlett. She personifies grit and grace. She’s smart and stubborn, and will outwork me if I’m not careful. I get what you mean by a miracle.”
He turns toward me as we approach the club. “You’d better take good care of Ms. Priest. A woman like that will make the rest of your life worth living, in a way nothing else can.”
I think of every time Scarlett has made me smile, laugh, or just stare at her in wonder. “That’s the plan.”
“Which is why you won’t lose Saturday.”
“Damn right. Which means the mob better be real fucking sure that they got Moses under control, because I’m not taking a chance that bastard is going to touch a fucking hair on her head. You understand me?”
“Don’t question the mob or me. You’re covered. Moses won’t hurt her. Now, get that shit out of your head and focus on the fight.” He grabs the handle of the briefcase and offers it to me. “Put this in your safe. I’ll see you Saturday. Good luck, Legend.”
“I don’t need luck. But thanks anyway.”
Q stares at the stacks of cash I take out of the case and stow in the top shelf of the safe. “You just rode in a Rolls Royce with Creighton Karas, and he gave you two million dollars—in cash—for the hell of it?”
I reach back to grab another stack and put it inside. “Yep.”
Q wipes his hand across his mouth and shakes his head. “That’s some way to start the day, brother.”
A small smile comes over my face when I think of what Karas said to me. “You’d better take good care of Ms. Priest. A woman like that will make the rest of your life worth living, in a way nothing else can.”
It’s the goddamned truth too, which is why the first thing I’m buying after I win is a ring. One that she deserves. Because I’m going to be the man she’s always needed, even if she didn’t know it.
I still remember what I said to her at the hospital when she came out of surgery. “I’m not what you need, but I’ll learn, ladybug.”
The money I’ll make Saturday night won’t put me on par with what Scarlett’s got in the bank, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be enough for her without it, and I finally fucking get that. She doesn’t care about what I’ve got. She cares about who I am and how I treat her. And if a cool mil of my own helps me treat her even better . . . no harm, no foul.
“It’s not just gonna be a great fucking day,” I tell Q with a smile. “This is the start of a great new fucking life for all of us, buddy. Just wait.”
“I believe you, Gabe. You haven’t let me down yet.”
Forty-Three
Legend
I head back to the gym, more in the zone than ever before. My focus is turned up to the max, and determination fuels every punch.
I bob and weave, throwing combination after combination.
Chadwick—smack.
Lawrence Priest—slap, slap.
Rolo—bam.
Johnson—feint.
Moses—whack.
Lucy—bob.
The list repeats in my head ad nauseam, and by the time we finish, the grin on Jeb’s face is as wide as the cage I’m going to dominate on Saturday.
“You’re fucking ready, kid. I wouldn’t believe you were the same fighter as when you walked in the door if I hadn’t trained you myself.”
I hold my gloves together and give him a small bow. “I appreciate every minute of the extra time and coaching. Johnson agreeing to jump teams might’ve been one of the best damn things that ever happened to my fighting career.”