Tornado (18+)

38- Tez

Three weeks later.

"Terence?" The way in which Brent calls my name forces me to look up to his usual stern face glaring my way. "Are you paying any fucking attention?"

I blow out a frustrated sigh, knowing my bombshell will send his blood pressure soaring. "I'm not doing it. Sorry, I'm just not."

Brent furrows his brows, his lips moving into a thin line of displeasure. "You're not doing it? It's not immediate, as in right now - it's in seven months' time!"

I roll my tongue across my bottom lip and scrub a hand through my hair. "I know but I'm not interested in the fight. Buster can call me out and goad me all he likes; I won't be fighting him."

For a split second, Brent looks like he's entered a state of disbelief as he stares at me as though I've just committed a cardinal sin. But with several slow blinks, he's back in the room. "Don't be hasty, Terence. You're the man of the moment, just like you wanted."

There's a saying that you should be careful what you wish for. For years all I've aspired to have is a shot at a title belt and carve out a decent career where everyone knows who I am. Now I've achieved that, I realize it's not all unicorns and rainbows. These past weeks have been a blur of press opportunities, interviews, late nights, and early mornings. I'm surviving on five hours sleep and running on shakes and protein bars.

This isn't the happy ending I had envisioned.

"Brent, I'm not ready to take on another fight yet. I want some time out. I need some time out."

His eyes narrow, drawing him deeper into the abyss of annoyance. "Time out? This isn't pre-school! This is your fucking career!"

He pauses for a breath and my anger channels into my fingers, curling into my palms. "Are you pissed because this is going to look bad for me or for you, Brent?

"Don't go there, Terence," Jackson warns. "We both want what's best for you."

"Funny that because I'm only graced with Brent's presence when I'm earning him the money or I'm invited to the odd family Sunday lunch by Paisley. When I've got issues or need advice, he's nowhere to be seen."

"That's bullshit!" Brent spits out. "I treat you like a fucking son."

I think about the appalling way Brent treats his son Lucien and I let out a dark humorous chuckle. He's just hit the nail on the head, but I don't have the time or the energy to argue with him, I have a plane to catch and a surprise wedding to attend.

... My own.

I've skipped the engagement part and gone straight for the kill. I just hope with all the secret planning myself, Bailey and Fitz have done, Paisley is going to agree to marry me. I'm taking a big risk doing it this way, but what's the point of living if you don't take any risks?

Brent and Jackson continue to try and talk me around, but enough is enough. As much as they've both done for my career so far, I'm growing tired of having every inch of my life dictated by them. As soon as there is a break in the conversation, I dive straight in with my own views.

"I agree with you, you're right, it is my career and it's my fucking life, not either of yours. I appreciate what you've done for me so far, but I don't want to fight him, Brent and you can't force me. I haven't signed my new contract with you yet. You'd do well to remember that!"

Brent's eyes widen, the corner of his lips drooping at my chastising. I'm learning fast that where Brent is concerned he respects you more when you fight fire with fire and stand up to him rather than be a yes man.