I hope not.
I nod slowly in agreement, not even wanting to look at the money or ask where he got so much from.
“I have to go now, Roxy,” Dillon says, his grip on me not loosening any, while mine holds him tighter. Holds him closer.
“I don’t want you to…” I start to sob and he holds me close again, squeezing me harder than ever, smelling my hair and kissing my head.
“I don’t want to go either, but if this is gonna work, we need to be seen apart.”
“And what about after the fight?” I ask him, sensing he’s only told me half of what he intends to.
“After tonight, we leave town… your dad too,” Is all he says and I nod again, but it’s really only opened up a whole new can of worms for me.
“Baxter… the house?” I start to say, remembering I have an obligation to watch the house, as well as keep Baxter fed and walked. Plus, he’s become a friend for me since I’ve been here.
“The house will be fine,” Dillon assures me. “There’s someone else coming to watch over it for a few days. Once the dust clears, you might be able to come back, square things up with the owners,” he offers, sounding optimistic.
“And if not?” I ask, gulping again.
But Dillon only shrugs. “It’s small potatoes, Roxy. I need you and I need to get you clear of that shit Marconi. Everything else is tiny details, which our new friends out there assure us will be taken care of and I’m inclined to believe them,” he says, almost sounding annoyed.
“Why do you trust them so much?” I ask, I do wonder myself. Why go from one lot of gangsters to another. Aren’t they all the same.
“I trust them,” he says with intensity, which he relaxes, not wanting to be upset with me, “because Jake does. And Jake, the same man who’s organizing to save both our asses and your dad’s, is the one man I’d trust with my life… I’ve saved his bacon enough times and now it’s time for me to collect. It might sound dumb to you Roxy, but it’s the only code I’ve lived by. You just have to trust people sometimes… Not everybody, but just somebody…”
“Alright,” I say, looking up into his eyes, feeling his heart beating faster against mine, his own voice quavering a little as he speaks.
“I trust whoever you trust, Dillon. And I trust you with more than my life.” I say honestly.
“More than your life?” he asks, furrowing his brow.
“I trust you with my heart, too,” I say and he kisses me again, making me want this kiss to last forever over all the rest.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dillon
It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, leaving Roxy alone. Even if it’s just for a few hours, it already feels like years and we haven’t even crossed the bridge.
I have to remind myself of my own advice, my own instructions for her to trust the process that will mean we can be together when it’s all over.
I know she’s safe. Jake’s seen to it that all of us have the protection of the Russians, but it’s me who should be protecting her even though I know I can’t be in two places at once.
Just a few more hours, Roxy…
Once we leave the street where the house is, I noticed two cars with almost identical looking Russians park at each end of Roxy’s street. They’ll be taking her to the fight and keeping out of sight. That’s what Jake assured me. And I assured him that as much as I trust him, if anything goes wrong…
But I can’t think like that. I just told Roxy we all have to trust somebody sometimes and this one time, I’m trusting Jake to produce a fucking miracle.
“You know what to do?” the shorter Russian asks me, without even turning his head when he speaks as we sit bunched up in the back seat of their sedan.
“I know,” I growl. “Do you?”
His eyes in the rear view harden, but then they shine and he slaps my thigh, laughing a booming laugh that almost deafens me.
“You Americans! Always with the funny!” he shouts, and I start to imagine the ways I have to try not to beat this guy in a fight.
The ways I have to allow myself to be beaten by him.
It’s all for Roxy… Just think of Roxy…
The sun’s getting low already and once we cross the bridge, the leafy greens of the suburbs transform slowly into the dark reds, browns and grays of the industrial areas. The world Marconi rules and the home of the place people like me have to fight.
I’ve never been nervous before a fight, never shied away from any opponent. And tonight I only feel on edge because of Roxy. If it was just me, maybe even just her old man that stood a chance at losing out big time, I could accept it. But because Roxy is involved, I worry for her.
Stop thinking like that!
Do it and do it well… It’s your fucking job, just get in and get out… you can do this, for her!
“We have money… all bettings been arranged,” the Russian who’s driving assures me. It’s almost like he can sense what I’m worrying about, but he assumes it’s all about the money.
Money’s fine, but it won’t buy me what I know I have with Roxy. I give him a polite nod, wondering if it’s him I’ll be fighting first, or second? Maybe both of them together.
Knowing Marconi, he won’t let my little slip up last night go unpunished.
We drive in silence for about a half an hour before the car slows to a halt a fair way from where the fight’s held.
“Out, here. We go,” The driver announces, and I know it’s time to go. I get out of the car carrying my opponents and everything of financial value
