Page 119 of Fighting Jacob

“Deal.”

The swiftness of his reply knocks the wind from my lungs. My eyes bounce between him when he holds his hand out for me to shake on our agreement. My head is screaming at me to renegotiate, but my heart makes me reach out for his hand without a single objection.

Confident he has me right where he wants me, Jacob waggles his brows. “You do realize, when I win this fight tonight, I can contend for the heavyweight championship in less than six months?”

My eyes bulge. “What? Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.” He slaps my backside before strutting into our bedroom. Yes, I said strut. “You better get planning, baby, because in six months’ time, you’re going to be my wife.”

His tone alone reveals he'll train even harder now. He's not leaving that cage without the championship belt, and considering I never back out of a deal, in six months, I’ll most likely be his wife. A part of me is petrified, but the other half—the sentimental mucky side—is a tad bit excited.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to clear away the mats?”

My eyes stray to Lydia, Chloe’s mom. "It's fine. It'll only take a minute; then I'm out of here.”

We’ve just finished our final defense class for today. It was my biggest yet, with thirty women in attendance. Lydia has become a close confidant of mine the past year, so she helped me run today's class with the hope of taking over the reins of a class or two in the next few weeks. Things have been tough for Lydia, but ever since Maggie offered her a job at Mavericks, things have picked up. She and Chloe no longer live at Hopeton House, and with Michael's help, she's hoping to soon regain sole custody of Chloe.

“See you next week.”

Lydia waits for me to nod before heading for the exit of Hank’s gym. After rolling up the mats and placing them back on the shelf, I scan the area. Hank’s gym has changed so much the past twelve months. The old, rusty equipment has been updated with sleek new machines, and a new set of ropes and a new mat make the boxing ring look brand new. Even the showers in the locker rooms have been retiled.

Although cosmetics have given Hank’s gym a slick new look, it still holds the funky smell that makes everyone’s stomach lurch when they enter. Jacob isn’t convinced, but I’m certain the scent is a combination of hidden gym socks stuffed at the back of the lockers and sweat. Hank swears it’s the smell of hard work and determination. Whatever it is, it’s gross, and even years later, my stomach still protests when I walk through the large glass door.

I crank my neck when the bell above Hank’s gym jangles. “What did you forget this time?”

The mirth in my tone is pushed aside when the face I’m expecting to see isn’t there. Lydia isn’t standing in the entranceway of Hank’s gym. Callum is.

My heart beats furiously when he fixes the lock into place. After flipping the sign to advise the gym is now closed, he pivots on his feet to face me. “Hello, Lola.”

His brittle tone makes butterflies bunch in my stomach. Although unnerved, I’m confident I have what’s needed to take him down. If he attempts anything remotely intimidating, he’ll be on his ass faster than I can snap my fingers.

Callum’s eyes drift from my clenched fists to my face, taking in my gym shorts and crop top on the way. When our eyes collide, I strengthen my stance. He doesn't need to voice his disdain about my outfit for me to hear it. His slit gaze and ticking jaw tell me everything I need to know.

“Violence won’t be necessary... Or I might need to use this.”

My heart sinks into my gut when he drags his index finger along his nose. His drug use is nothing new; rumors have circulated for months that he’s back on the wagon. It’s the gun in his hand that has my heart stuttering.

He may be double my weight, but I still had the ability to take him down. I can’t say the same about his gun.

“Why don’t you come give your boyfriend a kiss?”

Keeping my eyes firmly planted on the gun, I shake my head. His hand is trembling so badly, I’m afraid he might accidentally shoot me. “I’m good here.”

Unhappy with my response, he storms my way. Air hisses between my teeth when he fists my hair so roughly, he yanks many strands from my scalp. That’s not the worst of it. With my hands needed to save my hair, my mouth is defenseless to his infiltration. He seals his lips over mine in under a second before he slides his tongue along them. My stomach threatens to spill from the disgusting stench of his breath. It’s worse than any roadkill I’ve smelled.

When several attempts to poke his tongue between my hard-lined lips fail, he inches back before dropping his bloodshot eyes to mine. They’re utterly soulless, like peering into a bottomless dark pit.

He stabs the barrel of his gun into my right ribcage, demanding my utmost devotion. “Where’s your phone?”

Too breathless to speak, my eyes stray to my bag sitting open on the gym floor. Noticing the direction of my gaze, he frees my hair from his grip to stalk to my bag. Knowing this is my only chance to escape, I sprint for the exit as fast as my quivering legs can take me.

Just as I reach the front door, gunfire rattles throughout Hank’s gym. A squeal emits from my lips as I freeze like a statue. There’s a bullet stuck in the drywall a mere inch from my head. I'm only alive because Callum has a bad aim. Next time, I may not be so lucky.

I signal with my arms that I’m surrendering before turning back around. This time, Callum doesn’t try to hide his gun. He keeps it pointed at my head, as angry now as he was when I refused his kiss. When he nudges his head to the bench he's standing next to, I hesitantly pace toward him. Being the sole hostage of a madman isn't ideal, but when it's your only option, you must run with it.

Every step I make is done with a shudder; I just don’t know if I’m shaking in fear or from the massive surge of adrenaline racing through my veins. After sitting on the bench, I raise my eyes to Callum. I’m quick enough to see the butt of his gun careening toward my temple, but not quick enough to stop it from knocking me out.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

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