1 Last Shot (The Fight Game, #4)

by Nikki Castle

Isabella glares at him. The sight of it–especially not aimed at me–makes a grin form on my lips. Fuck, she’s sexy.

“Should I ask him to throw you down the stairs?” "Well, that's not very live laugh love of you," I murmur quietly, m...

"Did you… did you just make a joke?" Aiden asks incredulously. His head whips back to Isabella. “What did you do to him?”

😂😂😂

"Alright everybody, enough chit chat," Jax interrupts, clapping his hands together. I can't tell if he's purposefully trying to save

"It's the nickname everyone uses for me. Isabella is too much of a mouthful." No, it's not. Fuck no, it's not.

her a hard stare to convey a message along the lines of bullshit, and then I'm turning to walk down the mat into the bag room.

"Hello?" "Kane." An icy chill runs through me from just that—from nothing but my name. I swallow the rock lodged in my throat. “Mom. What do you want?" A laugh sounds from the other end of the line. It's gritty, and rough-sounding. Like she hasn't laughed a real laugh in years. She probably hasn't. “What, not even a hello?” she asks. I don’t bother responding.

“You always were such a stupid boy,” she says in a cruel voice. “You run away from me, but don’t bother to change your number? Why are you even surprised I’m calling you?”

"What do you want?" I repeat. "That's it? That's all you want to ask me? After three years, I don't even get a how are you, Mom?"

I was a child. "How are you?" Another laugh, though this time I can hear the poisonous victory in the sound. "I'm okay, baby. I moved out of West Baltimore, so I even managed to clean up for a while."

"That's great, Mom," I say in a flat voice. "I'm happy for you." "I even got married," she continues. "You had a real stepfather."

"Had?" I latch onto that word immediately.

"He left," she finally admits. "Guess he wasn't man enough to stick around. Just like your father."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I force out. "So where are you living now?" Not that I care, but she's taking this conversation in a specific direction and I want to get there as soon as possible so I can hang up as soon as possible.

"Mom, I have to go," I say hurriedly. "Thanks for calling. I'll talk to you later." "Don't you dare hang up on me, boy," she snarls. And there she is, the real woman beneath the mother’s mask. "I just told you I got a divorce and I’m crashing on someone's couch, and you can't even offer me a place to stay? I'm your mother, for fuck's sake. Have some goddamn respect."

"What do you want from me?" I ask. "What is it this time, Mom? Money? Drugs? I can't offer you a place to stay that's better than where you are now." "Oh, no?" she asks.

"You don't think Philly is just a little better than Baltimore?" My eyes slide closed, my chest starting to rise and fall with rapid, panicked breaths.

"You really thought I wouldn't find out, didn't you,"

"Well, let me tell you something: you're not as hard to figure out as you think you are. If I'm stupid, you're right there with me. Because I ...

saw a fight poster for your last fight,” she says with a cruel laugh, just to drive the stake in a little harder. “Your opponent was from your old gym in Baltimore, remember? Your face was plastered all over your old stomping grounds down here. That’s how easy it was to follow you to Philly and your new gym.” "What do you want?" I repeat. "I don't have anything for you. I'm just as stuck in the dumps as you are. It wouldn't be worth it to come up here." "Bullshit," she snarls. "You've got a nice, cushy job now. I bet that club pays well. It has to, if you've got your own apartment in a good area of the city. Although, I'm sure it helps that you're funneling drugs and sex through the dancers. Isn't that right, Kane?"

"I… what? What're you talking about? I don't do that shit. They don't do that shit. The club's clean."

"Are you sure about that?" she asks. "What if someone slipped it to your boss that you were doing both of those things? Does he trust you enough to believe you if you deny it? Does anyone trust you enough to believe you?"

"Don't worry, I'm not coming up there anytime soon." Her words cut through my haze of thoughts. "I just wanted to make sure you

understood that it works in your best interest to have my best interests at heart. And that I might be calling you soon for that help." She pauses, and I half expect her to be doing it just to drag out the torture. "Be ready to help your poor mother, Kane. She's done so much for you in your life. The least you could do is help her in her time of need."

"Bye, baby. Enjoy your night." Click.

“Have you talked to Kane recently?” Hearing his name in the context of whatever chaos is going on around her immediately chills my blood. “I don’t know how to answer that,” I tell her. “What’s going on? Just tell me.”

“Kane’s kind of freaking out at the gym right now. No one knows what set him off, and Coach isn’t here, and Tristan and Jax can’t seem to calm him down. He’s about to hurt himself with how hard he’s going. I figured if anyone would know anything, it would be you.”

"He hasn't said anything to me," I finally respond. "I don't know why he'd be freaking out." "Damnit," I hear Hailey mutter. More shouting in the background, and this time Kane's voice is distinct, and clearly panicked. “You’re the only one any of us have ever seen talk to Kane, so I thought you might know something. And I know you’re his neighbor. But I guess it was a long shot.”

"I'm coming over there," I say hurriedly, standing up and tossing my things in my gym bag. "I'll be there in five minutes." I make it in two.

The only difference is the first time I saw him, he stopped when he saw me. Now, he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't stop when I walk in.

"Kane," I call out, but my voice is quiet and a little breathless. I clear my throat and try again, this time louder. "Kane, stop." He doesn't hear me. The only reaction I get is Tristan and Jax jerking their gazes toward me, but it's only for a split second, because they have to go right back to trying to restrain Kane. So, I grit my teeth and move toward him instead. "Isabella," Jax says nervously. "I don't think you should be—" “I don’t care,"

"Kane, look at me," I say softly. He stills instantly. His chest heaving, he slowly raises his head to meet my gaze.

I suck in a breath at the sight of pain—so much pain—in his eyes. Suddenly, I'm not looking at an angry, grown man, but a sad, broken boy. One so lost in a memory that he’s not aware of his actions. Of his current reality.

"Kane," I breathe. But it says...

"It's okay," I say in a whisper. I hold his gaze, letting him see the truth in my words and urging him to let me in. "You're okay. Everything's okay." He swallows roughly at the words, and I see a little more of him settle back into the present moment.

Then I do the other one. And when I'm done, I fold his hand in mine and meet his eyes. "Let's get out of here," I say quietly. His nod comes without any hesitation.

I turn and start to pull him in the direction of the exit,

Tristan and Jax look completely shell-shocked, and even Hailey—who is obviously the most aware of my connection w...

for the mess, something—but realize it doesn't actually matter. Kane is all that matters. So, I don't say anything, I just pull him over to his bag so he can grab what he nee...

Kane ignores them and grabs my hand. Then he's pulling me out of the gym and onto the back of his bike.

"Where are we going?" His voice is rough, though I’m not sure if it’s from disuse or lots of yelling.

"Spruce Street Harbor Park. Where we're going is right next to it."

"Where are we going?" he asks, his demand harsh. "We're just walking," I answer simply, without looking at him. When I pull him after me, he follows. But when we reach the sidewalk and start walking, he slides his hand from mine. I don’t take it personally.

"Why'd you come to the gym?" he asks suddenly.

"Hailey called me," I answer simply. I can sense his confusion. "Why?" "She knows I'm your neighbor," I say with a shrug. He's silent after that.

"I don't know what those guys have against working hard," he says eventually, his voice hard and clearly defensive. "So I beat a heavy bag to a pulp, so what? Most coaches would be thrilled about it."

"You didn't have to come, you know. I was fine." "I know," I say simply, still without looking at him. He looks forward again. "I don't know why I followed you out of the gym. I should've stayed and kept working out."

"Do you want to go back?" I ask, keeping my tone neutral. He stares at me. For a breath, and then another. Finally, his shoulders slump. "No," he says, the sound of defeat heavy in his voice. He turns to continue walking.

The German Shepherd goes right up to Kane, his tail wagging happily, and he gives him a look that is very obviously a demand to be pet.

"You bought this for Oscar?"