Page 59 of Driving My Obsession

For her.

The bell rings, ending the match, and I don’t stick around to answer the look of shock on Boris’ face. I slide under the rope and push people away until I find Oaklyn buried beneath a sea of legs. Pulling her to her feet, I guide her to the locker room. She keeps trying to pull away from me as she screams something, but I can’t hear her. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck what she has to say until I know she’s okay. I also need to find out who busted her lip so I know who I need to murder when I leave here.

“Ambrose, please listen to me,” she pleads once the door closes behind her. “I know you said not to show my face, but I—”

My hand goes to her throat, and I force her back against the wall. Fear colors her green eyes, but she’s not afraid ofme. Something else has her spooked. She isn’t the only one who’s afraid, though.

“You could have gotten yourself killed, tragedy. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Please, Ambrose, you have to listen to me,” she pleads. Tears fill her eyes, and she’s shaking. I release her throat, and she falls into me. “I thought I was too late. I thought that man was about to kill you.”

My eyebrows pull together. “Boris? He’s a beast, I’ll give him that, but it would take at least three of him to take me out. I know all that blood made it look like I was getting my ass beat, but I was winning until I had to save you from your own stupidity.”

“No, no, you don’t understand.” She’s breathless. Frantic. “Your boss planned to have you killed during your fight. I heard two guys talking about it at the club, but the fighter’s name is Marty, not Boris. I know you said to stay away, but I couldn’t let them kill you. I couldn’t let them...” Her words devolve into guttural sobs.

I hold her against me as I try to wrap my mind around what she’s just told me. I knew Darby was getting sick of my shit, but I didn’t think he’d stoop that low. I’ll have to handle him, but right now I need to know who hurt Oaklyn.

“How’d you get that busted lip?” I ask, pulling back her head so I can get a better look at her face. Mascara cuts black tracks down her cheeks, and the lip looks even worse up close. Even her delicate jaw has swollen.

Her chin quivers, and she tries to look away.

“Answer me, tragedy. Who fucking hurt you?”

She meets my gaze. “Jake.”

This mother fucker.

“When I found out about the hit on you, I tried to send you a text. You didn’t respond, so I went to Jake to let him know I had to leave. He tried to...He tried to rape me again, but I stabbed him and got away.”

I hate the shame I see in her eyes. She has nothing to be ashamed of. I grip her chin between my fingers and tip it upward. She should hold her head high. “Good fucking girl.”

“You have to get out of here,” she whispers. “I’ll take the bus back, and I promise to stay away this time, but you have to get away from Darby before he hurts you.”

So this is what she was so afraid of? She risked her life to get to me so she could save me? My entire life, people have tried to run away from me or kill me. My mother. Women. The men I fight in the ring. Now I have someone who wants to run toward me. Someone who wants me on this earth.

“You’ll do no such fucking thing,” I say. “You’re coming with me.” She’ll stay right by my side so I can protect her the way she just protected me. I grip her hand and try to lead her out of the locker room, but she digs in her heels and won’t budge.

“What about the man who wants to kill you? Shouldn’t you handle that?”

With a smirk, I turn back to her and lift her into my arms. If she won’t walk, I’ll carry her. “I’ll deal with Darby later. Right now, I need to get you somewhere safe so I can doctor that lip.”

I also need to plan a nice little surprise to thank Oaklyn for what she’s done for me today. She needs to know just how much she means to me. I’m not exactly a flowers-and-dinner kind of guy, but an idea takes shape, and I think she’ll love it.

She struggles in my arms, but I only tighten my hold as we leave the building. “Put me down,” she whispers as people turn to look at us.

I laugh and lean close to her ear. “Let them stare. I’m beginning to like it.”

ChapterThirty-Four

Oaklyn

Ambrose has been gone since I woke up this morning. I’m familiar with anxiety. I’ve felt its sharp nail gliding up my back before a big performance or when I’ve waited for a callback after an audition. The anticipation I feel right now is different, though. It tears at my mind in an unrelenting way and refuses to give me a moment of peace. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing.

By the time lunch rolls around and he comes through the front door of his apartment, I’m ready to explode. “Where have you been? I was so afraid Darby—”

“I have something to give you,” Ambrose says as he drops a bag onto the coffee table.

“What?” I ask.

---