Page 27 of Captivating

He may be the biggest danger I’ll ever face, because he almost broke me once.

The young girl who loved love and hearts and flowers—the one who grew up watching the best fairytale play out in front of her every day as I got to watch the way my parents loved each other—that same girl died a little when I left Kroydon Hills, and it took years to find her again. The truth is I’m not sure I ever got her back completely, and I’m not sure my heart or my head could bear going through that again.

Maybe this was a really bad idea.

I look down, suddenly very interested in counting the seeds on my strawberry.

“But here’s the thing, Tink.” My mom walks around the counter and lifts my face. “You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever known.” She pushes my hair away from my face, pride emanating from every inch of her body. “I want you to hear that again because I didn’t say women, I said people. Men and women. I’ve met all kinds in my life and you, my beautiful girl, are stronger than all of them. You have been your entire life. I know Killian was special to you when you were younger. Your father and I worried about how much time you were spending with him and the boys, but even then, you never let those relationships stop you. You still pursued your music. If anything, you were strongerbecauseof them, notin spiteof them. Those boys were your biggest fans, including Killian. Life has a way of working itself out. Maybe this is your chance to find that friendship again.”

I shove the emotion back down my throat, refusing to give voice to Mom’s beautiful words. “This was the only way to get the label to keep looking for insurance for the remainder of the tour.”

Mom’s slow nod leaves little doubt about how much she believes that, but she lets me have my lie. “If your label can’t find insurance, Daddy and I talked about it after Noah left today. We’ll cover it.”

“Mom—”

“I love you, Lilah Belle.” She tilts my head forward and kisses my forehead.

I close my eyes, refusing to let my tears fall.

“I love you too, Mom.”

Rumor has it that America’s favorite pop princess, Lilah Ryan, has been spotted multiple times at a certain MMA gym in town. Could it be Ms. Ryan has decided to switch careers or maybe she’s human like the rest of us and is having a hard time losing the holiday weight she put on...? Guess it’s time to get a gym membership.

#KroydonKronicles #NewYearsResolutionUnlocked #PopPrincess

KILLIAN

“Killer—” Dad’s voice carries as I walk by his office at the end of the day.

Shit. So much for making my escape.

That’s about right. It’s not like he didn’t ride my ass after Lilah left, like I was a rookie who needed to be put through my paces.

I shoulder my gym bag, lean against his doorframe, and wait. It’s coming.

Dad rests his elbows on his desk and runs his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, much the same way I do. Guess I get it from him. Mom would say he needs a haircut, and she’d be right. She’s always on the two of us about that shit. Never my sisters. She’s on them for a whole mess of other stuff though, so I’ll take the ribbing about my hair.

Worry lines his face, so I know I’m in for it before he opens his mouth. “We’re nine weeks out from your fight, and I don’t know where your head’s at, kid.”

I want to tell him that makes two of us, but I don’t feel like dealing with the fallout from that kind of war cry, and that’s exactly what it would be. One of the things that makes Cade St. James the greatest coach the league has ever seen is his abilityto cut through the shit and keep his fighters focused on the only thing that matters in this sport. Winning.

“It was one day, Dad. One conversation. One fifteen-minute break,” I argue, trying to set his mind at ease, even though I’m full of shit. Problem is, he knows it.

“Don’t do this, Killer. Don’t fucking rebel now. You know what you need to do. Don’t make me say it.”

No distractions. That’s what he’d say, and Lilah strutting her way back into town is the biggest possible distraction imaginable. Even more than he knows.

“Not rebelling, old man.” I push off the door and shift my bag. “It’s good. We’re good. My head’s in this thing. My heart’s in it too. I’m going to wipe the mat with him. That belt is going to stay mine. And you have my permission to kick my ass if I slack off at all. Sound good?”

You’ve got to be a cocky bastard to do what I do for a living.

Confidence is 50 percent of the battle, and I’ve got it in spades.

I got my first judo gi at two years old.

Fought in my first tournament at five.

Won my first state wrestling championship at eight.

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