Page 61 of Captivating

It feels like he just dropped a ten-ton bomb in my lap, and I’m staring at one blue cord and one red one, trying to decidewhich to cut to stop time from ticking down. “I’m twenty-six, not forty-six. I’ve got time.”

“It feels like that today. But that switch is going to flip fast, Killer. I just want you to be prepared when it does. It might be ten years from now, or it could be ten months from now. Start thinking about it. Start making plans, even if you don’t tell a soul. At least you’ll have ideas.” He hands me an empty water bottle. “And keep an eye on Rome for me. I swear he’s gonna get himself killed.”

“Yeah well, if he fucks around with Dillan, I’ll do it myself.” Damn, Lilah would be so pissed.

“I always thought you had a thing for the other Ryan sister.” He knows I do.Asshole. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Might want to get your house in order, Killian. Pretty women with brains and confidence don’t like to be dicked around.”

“Nobody’s getting dicked around.” I fail to mention that’s because we’ve barely spoken since her birthday and everything that came after. She comes with me here every morning and leaves with Xander every afternoon. She’s basically become a shut-in, and it feels wrong. Like she’s become a prisoner in her own world, and I don’t know how the hell to help her.

“Whatever you say,” Hudson taunts. “Are you bringing Lilah to the Kingston Foundation event, or are you flying solo?”

When I don’t answer him, he curses. “Listen up, nephew. You’ve got way too many moving pieces in your life to be getting ready for a fight next month. Get it together. Claim the girl or don’t. Make plans for a life after fighting or fight until you’ve got a walker. I don’t care either way. I just want to see you happy, and I gotta tell you, I don’t think you are. Figure it out.”

He walks away, and I’m left standing, unbalanced, like I just took a roundhouse kick to the skull. What the fuck? I’m happy. I live a fucking fantastic life.

I do what I want.

When I want.

I’m the goddamned heavyweight champion.

I work hard, enjoy my life, and?—

And what?

Lilah’s beautiful face flashes in front of me.

And what . . . ?

And it can all go away in the blink of an eye.

Fuck. I hate when he’s right.

Get my house in order.

It’s time.

My stomach growls as I walk into Lilah’s later that afternoon. The scent of garlic and onions and tomatoes wafts through the house, followed by little girl giggles.

“You gotta put salt in the water, Aunt Tink.”

“Fuck, our girl can cook too?” Rome smacks my chest and pushes past me, on a mission for the kitchen, and I yank him back by his shirt.

“My girl, you stupid son of a bitch.”

The crazy shit’s smile stretches across his whole face. There’s a reason he’s been called a psycho since he was a kid. And that smile is the reason. “Took you long enough, Killer.”

“She can’t cook. That smell and that voice means Maverick’s here,” I tell him as I push him behind me.

“No shit, dumbass. That smell is Nonna’s sauce, and only a few of us have that recipe. Now get out of my way. I don’t have to watch weight for my fight yet, and I’m starving.”

“We’ve got to do conditioning,” I warn him while my stomach tries to eat itself.

Damn, that smells so good.

“Food first. Condition after.”

I let him go and follow him into the kitchen, where Mav, Lilah, and Dillan are following Rosie’s instructions on how to make the perfect pasta.

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