Page 84 of Last Round

I shake my head. “No, I know you, Killian. You’re going to get mad.”

“Molly, I love you.” He caresses my cheek. “I won’t get angry.”

I hold his stare. “You will. So, if you really want to know, you have to promise me you won’t charge out of here and do anything stupid.”

His jaw flexes as he considers my proposal. “I promise.”

“And you can’t tell Sean.” He hesitates, so I quickly add, “Trust me. If you tell him, I know what will happen. This will end with one or both of you in prison. I’ll lose you. So, promise me. Because I can’t handle losing you.”

He takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh. “I promise.” I know this deal was hard for him to make. All these things go against his nature. I stand from the bed and drop my towel. “Where are you going?” he calls out after me.

“I need a drink. This is one of those conversations that’s best served with tequila.”

Killian nods. “How about we switch into some dry clothes too.” He’s dressed before I am. When I enter the kitchen, he has a bottle of 1800 Blanco and two shot glasses. Sitting at the stool, he ashes his cigarette in the tray.

I take a seat. “I didn’t think you smoked inside.” Recently, it seems he’s hardly smoked at all. At least ever since he’s been back in his training mode.

He shrugs. “I smoke when I drink.”

I grab a cigarette from his pack, light it, and regret it almost immediately. A couple of years ago, I quit smoking. It was a bad habit I picked up in my teens. New York’s high cost for a pack helped me quit though. There was a time when the first hit of nicotine would calm my nerves; now it just makes me gag.

Killian slides me a shot. I slam it down to help wash the taste of tobacco from my mouth.

“When I first met AJ, he was nothing like he is now. He was kind of sweet. We met at a party my sophomore year. He was friends with one of the guys in my college. We hit it off, started dating. We actually had a lot in common. It was nice at first, being back around fighters and talking to him about what I saw you and Sean do when you’d train. For a couple of years, things were great, and I was happy. Graduation was around the corner and I had a job offer with The Fuel. He was winning matches, getting noticed, and Gideon’s firm approached him.

“That’s when everything changed; he changed. At first, it was just his name—Tony—then the clothes, fuck, even the way he talked. But I’d grown up around you, saw the persona you used for fighting and public appearances. I knew this was part of the game and let it go. Except, it never turned off. He was always Tony. Things became strained between us. He grew aggressive around me. Like, one night when we were out at a club and dancing, a guy I knew from class saidhito me. Nothing more. Tony flipped, broke my classmate’s wrist.”

I pour myself another shot.

“I tried to end it then. And he apologized, blamed it on stress, and promised me it wouldn’t happen again. But it did. Always screaming, throwing things, picking fights. His temper should’ve been enough to make me dump him. Except it took me walking in on him in his dressing room fucking some ring bunny to finally call it quits.”

Killian takes a drink; he sets down the bottle forcefully. I wish I was done, that it was the end of our story, but it’s not.

“I ignored his calls, texts, and even changed my number. Got a new place with some girlfriends after graduation. Things were fine for a while, until he became a client of ours.”

Killian pours us each another shot, takes his, and immediately serves up more.

“He requested me, specifically. I tried to decline it, but my boss left me little choice. He was right. Being a junior agent and getting a big name like Tony out of the gate was huge for me. I tucked away my feelings and focused on the job. Tony hit on me constantly. Dropped innuendos. He would proposition me in front of my coworkers. Sometimes, when we were out, he’d pretend I was his girlfriend. And, at risk of making my client look bad otherwise, I smiled and played along.

“Eventually, he got fed up with my rejections. Threw my career in my face.”Drink. “He told me if I didn’t…” Killian takes my hand. I swallow down my tears because I’m so sick of crying. “He said if I didn’t get on my knees and show him mygratitude, he’d have me fired.” Killian’s grip tightens and I can tell he’s about had his fill. “Afterwards, I told my boss what happened. That I wanted to press charges. Do you know what he told me? He said that in this line of work, we have to do things for our clients—things we may not like or want to do. And if I couldn’t handle it, that it wasn't the career for me. So I quit, and here I am.”

Killian remains silent as he stares at our joined hands. His jaw flexes as though he’s chewing on what to say. “That’s why he picked here.” I don’t understand his train of thought. “Gideon told Sean that he picked our gym because of me. But when you left, he assumed you were here.”

“Maybe, or it’s just a coincidence.” As I say it, I realize how stupid I sound. Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence. “What now?”

“I’ll keep my promise,” Killian says after a heavy silence. “But if he even looks at you, or says your name, anything involving you… he’s not getting away with it.”

“Killian,” I try to reason with him but he stops me.

“Molly, he traveled halfway across the country, risked his title, his whole career by swapping gyms. He’s dangerous. I won’t let him hurt you, ever. Do you understand that?”

I nod, because I do. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“I shouldn’t have come here. I love you, love us, but since I’ve been back, all I’ve done is ruin your life. If it weren’t for me, you’d still have your best friend. Tony wouldn’t be your headache.”

Killian stands in front of me, his fingers in my hair as he angles my head back to gaze up at him. “Then I wouldn’t have you.” My throat is thick as I keep myself from crying. “If I had to choose between having you and Sean, the bar, the gym, the clothes on my back—I’d choose you.”

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