Cal left first, eager to get back to his pregnant girlfriend, or whatever she was to him these days. Kat filled her glass with more whiskey and made her way out of the dining room, heading to the huge guest house she’d been living in since she returned from college.
Jasper grabbed my arm when we were alone, nodding to the staff to give us a moment of privacy. “We both know Kat isn’t gonna let this go, especially after everything that happened to us. Add on what happened to Maisie and Bonnie, and she’s feeling very protective over the women in her life, which now includes those two girls. Keep her safe.”
This was a different version of Jasper, the one I’d only seen half a dozen times over our decades-long friendship. He was vulnerable. Afraid.
“Of course, I’ll keep her safe, man.”
He nodded. “I know you will. You’re the only one I can trust with her Terry.”
I nodded, accepting the compliment for what it was. His trust in me, my love for the Ashby family, was the main reason my feelings for Kat could never come to anything. Would never come to anything.
It would kill my relationship with Jasper. And the rest of the Ashby family, which was effectively, my family.
Which is why I still kept my feelings for Kat under wraps. Even after all these fucking years.
Chapter Nine
Kat
Fight Night rolled around faster than I expected it to, especially considering I’d been living and breathing this day for the past six months. Maybe longer.
And the day had arrived. Finally. Specifically, the night had arrived and the preliminary fights had just finished. So far, the night had been a raging success for House of Ashby fighters, Emmett, and anyone smart enough to bet on Ashby.
Sadie and Vanessa sat in the front row of the arena where the Ashby team could see they had full family support. Next to Vanessa was Jasper and then Maisie and Virgil. Cal was there with a reluctant Bonnie, who had her face buried in her phone.
And of course Terry was around here…somewhere. He’d been around all week, lurking under the guise of additional security but I knew what he was really doing. Watching me. I knew because everywhere I turned there was that nearly white-blond crop of hair, so high above the average man because he wasn’t your average man.
Every damn corner I turned; there he was with those sparkling light blue eyes that always seemed to be in on a joke the rest of us weren’t privy to. Yeah, he was everywhere. Laughing. Looking at me in ways that did strange things to me. Smiling at me like he wanted to devour me. And worst of all, Terry made me laugh which only made me want things I shouldn’t.
Things I couldn’t have.
Things I didn’t have time to think about, especially not tonight.
“Ms. Ashby, they’re ready for you now.” I stood at the bottom of the steps that led to the octagon and gave the production assistant a nod. “Right this way.” He held an arm out automatically and I took it, taking careful steps so millions of people didn’t see me fall flat on my face.
“Thank you.” I stood dead center of the octagon, looking up at all the lights with a smile on my face. In less than an hour, months of hard work would be over. The results would be final, whatever they were. And we were set to make millions.
So far, so good, I whispered to myself as the television crew did a final check of the lighting and sound.
From this spot everything on the other side of the cage was just a blur of lights, sounds and moving objects. No wonder fighters could tune out everything but the roar of excitement and focus on the battle in front of them. It was exhilarating, being right in the middle of the excitement of Fight Night.
The Emerald Isle Grand Arena had never looked better. With the casino workers, the performers, and the TV network, there were lights everywhere, casting bright white or multi-colored circles all around the fifteen thousand seat arena. Corporate sponsors had done an incredible job of making sure their logos were plastered everywhere since they’d paid a handsome fee for the privilege.
We estimated this night would reach upwards of fifty million people.
And billions of dollars.
Everything was perfect.
Just fucking perfect.
Except the strange feeling I had that I was being watched. All night I’d had this annoying sensation that I’d chalked up to nerves but here inside the ring, I felt vulnerable. Trapped. Hunted.
It made sense to feel watched since every ticket had sold out and all the comps had been claimed at will call. That meant fifteen-thousand fight fans and another thousand or so workers, vendors and suits milling about. It’s just nerves, I tried to convince myself, shaking said nerves loose through my hands. The presence of the TV crew was throwing me off. The pay-per-view deal meant more money than we’d ever got for one night, and that had to be what was getting to me.
It had to be that because I didn’t have the time or the patience for it to be anything else.
“Thank you, Ms. Ashby.” Another assistant or producer in a headset explained the pacing for the three headlining fights but I barely heard a word. “We’ll get a commercial or two in between rounds,” he said and I nodded as if I was paying attention.
I wasn’t, because directly in my line of sight but probably a few hundred feet away, was Terry Manning. Decked out in a black suit that made his blond hair blonder and his pale skin paler, he looked hot as hell. Way too hot for my already scattered, restless brain. In his usual getup of jeans and a blazer, Terry was irresistible. In that suit, I
