"Are you okay, Daddy?" Lizzie's sweet and concerned voice calls out.
I lean to my left so that I can see where she's lounging on one of the gym's benches and offer her a reassuring grin over Asher's shoulder,
"I'm fine, baby. Daddy's a strong man." I wink and she giggles a little.
I turn my focus back to Asher and place my gloved hands in front of my face, preparing to dodge future hits so that Lizzie doesn't have to worry. It's her first time watching me fight in person and I guess it's different than watching me on TV. She definitely seems more scared each time she watches me take a hit when I'm mere inches away from her. I honestly wouldn't have bought her if I wasn't trying to spend all of today and tomorrow with her.
My next match is taking place in San Francisco and I'm going to have to fly over there to attend it. This is the first time I'm going to be completely away from Lizzie and it's wigging me out. I'm not prepared to spend three days without my daughter. I trust Greta with my life but I haven't left Lizzie's side once since she was born and I'm reluctantly as fuck to start now. So I'm dedicating the two days before my departure for some one-on-one time with my little girl. Between my job and boxing, it's been hard to see her often and I promised I wouldn't do that to her the way my own parents did.
I break out of my thoughts when I see Asher's fist coming towards my chin, and jerk away just in time. My left hand comes up and knocks his jaw with jab after jab until the force of them causes him to lose his footing. He falls onto his ass, braced against the floor by leaning up on his elbows, and spits out a tendril of blood over the side of the mat.
"Yay, Daddy!" Lizzie cheers and I kiss my glove before raising it towards her. She blows me a kiss back, falling into a fit of giggles because she knows the gesture is for her.
"I'd be kicking ass too if I had a cute as fuck little girl cheering for me." Asher grumbles.
"Stop swearing around my daughter." I bark before helping him up.
"Look at you, such a responsible dad and all." He singsongs but is cut off when I bring out my leg to kick under his knee, causing him to fall. Again. He lands on his ass. Again.
"Mother-"
"Watch it." I smirk down at him, pointedly stepping away from his outstretched hand.
"Asshole." He curses under his breath.
"I heard that." I thwack his head as I pass him and make my over to Lizzie.
"Someone's got his mojo back." Asher calls from behind me.
And he's damn right.
I've spent nearly every waking hour that I can training. These last two weeks alone have consisted of more training than since I started boxing in the first place. I've set up a new work schedule so that I'm working during the hours I usually take my afternoon naps. Granted, I only get four hours of sleep a day now but it's worth it. I'm up before the sun is up and I train until I have to work. After my shift I drive right back to the gym and train until Coach kicks me out for staying too long. Every morning my muscles scream in protest from how hard I've been working my body but I never stop pushing. I'm at my peak of fitness, never having been healthier, faster, or more agile. I've taken down all the guys in the gym after sparring with them over the span of these two weeks and I continue to spar with them as a form training.
I can't afford to lose again. I can't let anyone down again. I don't think I can mentally handle any more disappointment or failure derived from me. My previous loss looms over my head and mocks me from the countless amount of times I've watched my fight. I've analyzed and studied every mistake I made in that fight and what I should've done instead. I've researched my next opponent's fight strategies and styles, making notes on all his matches and discovering any common patterns or tells that might help me. I've been living and breathing nothing but preparation for my next fight. I can't afford to lose. The future of my daughter and I depends on it. And I so desperately need a future that will finally break me of my past.
But I'm still scared.
Scared shitless, in fact.
That crushing and aching loss I'd felt in my chest after the last match, that feeling of helplessness and defeat...I never want to feel it again. I realize I'm all kinds of fucked up in the head if a mere loss affects me mentally to that extent but that's who I am, like or not. And that's why I need boxing, need to excel at it. It makes me better and I want to be better. For myself. For Lizzie. For Sam.
I don't know if I can be that man for Emily yet but I'd be lying if I said the possibility of it never crossed my mind.
"Daddy?" Lizzie's questioning tone jerks me back to the present. I'd somehow ended up sitting on the bench next to her, drifting off in thought. I'd been doing that a lot these days.
"Sorry, Lizard." I apologize and lift her onto my lap, assaulting her face with kisses.
"Stop calling me that." She protests between her laughter, pushing her hands under my chin and trying to get away.
"But I like it." I protest back and blow a raspberry into her neck.
Her laughter increases until she's shaking too hard to fight me off and I watch her with a smile. That carefree expression on her face, that genuinely happy laughter? Yeah, I never want that taken away from her. She's my fucking world. It sucked ass that I had to leave her for three days.
"Can I hold her?" Cameron's face pops in my life of vision out of nowhere and I reel back from his proximity.
"Where the hell did you come from?" I grumble.
"Nice to see you too." He scoffs then makes grabby hands at Lizzie, who's grinning wide at him. "Now give me this little angel."
Lizzie is already reaching her arms out to him before I can tell him to fuck off so I reluctantly hand her over. I knew I was an overprotective father but I didn't give two shits.
"Cam-Cam!" She squeals and smushes his cheeks between her small hands.
"How creative of you." He grins at her and adjusts her in his arms. "I think I should call you Liz-Liz."
"Well, that's stupid." Asher hollers from where he's watching us on the mat and I point to him in agreement.
"Fuck off." Cameron snorts and immediately clamps his mouth shut, eyes widening.
"Language!" Asher and I bark simultaneously.
"Bad word, Cam-Cam!" Lizzie scolds and Cameron hangs his head shamefully.
"I know, I know." He mumbles and fishes a dollar out of his pocket before depositing it into Lizzie's outstretched palm.
"If I keep bringing Lizzie to Fighter's Den, I'll have her college tuition payed in no time." I chuckle. Lizzie's 'swear jar' always came home heavy after a trip to the gym.
"Maybe her future boyfriend can help with that." Asher taunts and I glare daggers at him, fuming.
"She's not dating until she's 30. Until then, I'll kill any guy that even looks at her." I promise and Asher and Cameron break out into loud chortles.
"What are we laughing at?" Nate asks as he and Wolfe enter the gym. He's immediately distracted when he sees Lizzie.
"Angel!" He exclaims with a grin. It's what all the guys have taken to calling her. Even Wolfe gives the slightest smile when he sees her and I've never known him to be anything but stoic as fuck. It's safe to say my daughter has everyone here wrapped around her finger.
"Hi!" Lizzie waves and willingly goes into his arms when he takes her from Cameron.
"It's still my turn." Cameron protests but gets flicked in the head without so much as a glance from Nate. Lizzie giggles, loving the attention.
While Wolfe joins Asher on the mat and Nate coddles Lizzie, Cameron pulls me to the side and out of hearing reach.
"Everything good?" He asks in a low voice.
"Yeah." I furrow my brows, not following. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"Just don't overwork yourself. You'll be fine, my man."
"No worries. And thanks." I begin to walk past him when his arm shoots out and stops me.
"Emily isn't coming around as often anymore. Again." His statement demands an answer from me and I feel my heart rate accelerate.
"So? What do I know?" I try playing cool.
Cameron peers at me for a few calculating seconds while I hold my breath. I'm not an idiot; I know he's almost had it figured out if not already but I can't voice confirmation, especially now that I've called things off with Emily and I. So I keep denying, hoping he just leaves the matter completely. His shoulders drop a little and something like acceptance creeps into his eyes. I internally breathe a sigh of relief.
"Okay." He walks ahead of me but stops after about two steps and turns to look at me. "For now."
I roll my eyes to show my indifference when I'm feeling anything but.
His suspicion and the unintentional reminder of Emily arises equal annoyance and longing within me. I know I was the one to call things off, and for good reason, but I can't help wanting her around me. Every night I come home with unshed adrenaline that I want to release on Emily, wanting to end my long days with the blissful state of being inside her. I have to constantly fight the urge to call or text her when I want someone to talk to, that someone always being her. I have to resist her completely and it's hard as fuck when I'm so taken with her. When in the hell did that even happen?
Shaking off all thoughts of Emily, I go and do what I always do when I need distraction from the memory of her sweet smile, twinkling laughter, mischevious eyes and that beautiful body only I get to see. I box. I release all my pent up frustrations and energy through pushing my body until I can't stand straight anymore.
And that's exactly what I find myself doing right now, as I deliver jab after jab and strengthen the force behind my power punches and uppercuts on the punching bag. The chains rattle fiercely and the bag itself is swaying in all directions. My muscles tense and burn as I work them as fiercely as I can and my knuckles follow suit, notifying me that my earlier cuts and wounds probably reopened.
"Are you trying to knock the punching bag out? Cause I gotta tell you, my man, that thing isn't alive." Cameron drawls and the guys snicker.
"Fine. Let me hurt you, then." I turn on him with a smirk.
His eyes glint and he silently accepts my challenge, wrapping his fists with padding and making his way over to join me in the practice ring.
"How much more are you going to practice?" He admonishes but starts settling into his gear nonetheless.
"Until I get in that ring in San Francisco." I return simply.
"Jesus." He snorts. "All of us have years of training on you but your dedication makes us look like pussies."
"What's that, Daddy?" Lizzie calls out innocently.
The guys hoot as Cameron pales when I turn a murderous glare on him.
"I'm gonna knock you out the way I couldn't on that punching bag." I threaten and he groans defeatedly.
"I'm an idiot." He mutters right when Nate signals us to start the round.
Half an hour later, after I kicked Cameron's ass, I quickly shower so that I can take Lizzie to the park. My muscles relax under the soothing patter of the water and I feel my bones turn to mush. So I didn't exactly kick Cameron's ass. The kid could hold his own and though he was a little shit, he was a damn good boxer. I won in the end but something always told me Cameron was holding back. I'd think it was for my sake and if that was the case I could've knocked him into oblivion for even considering that he had to go easy on me. But it wasn't just with me.
I'd been watching him carefully for around a month now and it was evident he held himself back with everyone. I couldn't understand it; he was talented and I knew if he gave his all, it would be my ass that'd receive a generous ass-kicking every time we sparred. It's like he wanted to keep his skill under the radar. He barely accepted matches, only ones that were amateur and this baffles me because at his level he could easily be a pro. There was something more to him and for all the heart-to-heart and kumbaya shit he gave me about being able to tell him anything, he sure as hell had some closet demons of his own.
I somehow find the will to pull myself away from the shower's comfort and step out, wrapping a towel around myself and heading for my locker. Just then, the sound of Coach's voice catches my ear and I change course, heading for his office instead. I'd been meaning to ask him if he could tell Emily to stop by and check up on Lizzie while I was gone. My little girl was as taken with Em as I was and knowing that she'd have her while I was gone felt right for reasons I wasn't ready to acknowledge yet. I enter Coach's door without knocking, long since giving up trying to attain that habit, and I knew Coach would know it's me because I'm the only one who doesn't knock. But I'm overcome with a sense of deja vu when I see that it's Emily in the office instead of Coach and my feet, along with my fucking heart, come to a freezing halt.
Damn it all to hell, why did she always have to look so breathtaking? My body betrays my mind and I find myself shamelessly scrolling my eyes over her figure, which is showcased in simple jeans and a form-fitting sweater. Her hair is tied into two pigtails and I literally have to grip the door to hold myself back from the mental image of tugging onto them while I slam into her from behind. My cock comes to life from the fantasy and the way her startled eyes flick down to it, tongue wetting her bottom lip when she notices the bulge not-so-hidden from the thin towel, doesn't help matters. Those gorgeously blue eyes slowly trail up my abs and chest, lingering on the droplets of water sliding down my body and disappearing beneath the towel. Christ, it takes all my fucking strength to not stalk towards her and claim her with my mouth and dick the way I want to. An unfamiliar warmth spreads in my chest when I see her usual blush take place as her eyes finally meet mine and I'm overcome with my longing for her. I shouldn't have but goddamn, I missed her. These past two weeks have felt like a lifetime and my obvious dependence on her freaks me the hell out. So, like the asshole I am, I naturally resign to unnecessary harshness when I address her in order to get away from whatever it is I'm feeling.
"If you're going to stare this long, take a picture." My words sound cold even to my ears and I'm immediately tempted to take them back. Dial it down.
Her eyes fume instead of shying away like I assumed they would and I'm startled by her change towards me.
"The same rule should apply to you. You can even use the picture to get yourself off." She taunts and pointedly flicks her eyes to the tenting towel.
I know she sees my surprise because she smirks and it's almost...cruel. It seems I've made my sweet Em quite resentful. That sucks major ass but I deserve it. And the more she hates me, the easier it will be to stay away from her. So I act unaffected despite the involuntary panick I feel over the prospect of losing her completely.
"I need a favour." I start, keeping my tone indifferent.
"Call a prostitute." She returns easily and makes her way over to her father's seat behind the desk.
I clench my jaw, trying to appear angry, but her fiesty side has always been a major turn on for me.
"I'm not talking about my dick." I grit out.
"Then?" One eyebrow raises, unfazed.
"It's about Lizzie." I sigh and her face immediately morphs into concern.
"Is she okay?" She sounds panicked and I try not to be affected by the way she loves my daughter like her own. I should hate that about her, but I don't. It just seems too fucking right.
"She's fine." I reassure her more calmly than I'd intended, my asshole facade not lasting as long as I'd hoped. "It's just, this is the first time I'll be away from her since she was born and while she has a sitter I'd feel better if you would stop by and see her. Maybe do some girly shit? I don't know. I just want her to be okay while I'm gone."
Emily's face softens into an affectionate expression I'm all too familiar with and I hate that I have to fight a grin when I see it. There's my girl.
"Of course. I'll even give her that makeover I'm always promising to keep her distracted. And..." She trails off, unsure, and I tilt my head.
"We can watch your match together from your place. So she's not scared or anything." She mumbles, unsure, and I nod.
"That's a good idea." I tell her and she nods back.
An awkward silence follows, the air mingled with both distraught and sexual tension. Her eyes flick around the room like she's trying to look at anything but me and I struggle to keep my own gaze off the way that sweater hugs her fantastic curves. I hate to admit it but now that I feel prepared for the match, my earlier reaction about my loss being tied to spending too much time with Emily seems entirely dramatic. I have to remind myself that it's not the only reason I pushed her away but it's easier said than done when she's mere feet away from me looking edible as hell. Her lips part and I realize I've been scrutinizing them for some time now and when my eyes flick up to meet hers, they reflect the desire I'm sure is pooling in my own gaze.
"Cage!" I hear growled behind me and I spin around, settling a neutral expression as I face a fuming Coach.
"Hey, Coach." Thank fuck my voice sounds detached and not hoarse like I'd expected after eye-fucking Emily. I discreetly settle an arm in front of my crotch to obscure my rock-hard cock from Coach's line of vision before he can put two and two together and settle me into a grave long before my end of time.
"What are you doing in my office? Half-naked?" He bites out and comes to my other side, protectively hiding my figure from Emily's eyes.
"Did you forget about my photoshoot?" I smart, running the hand not covering my dick down my body.
Coach scowls at me and I hear Emily's cough covering something that suspiciously sounds like a giggle.
"Oh, I'll shoot something. Now get to the point." He demands.
"I actually came looking for you. I was going to ask you to pass a message to Emily but I got the chance to do it myself."
"And that message would be?"
"To come by and look over Lizzie while I'm gone." I say and see Coach visibly relax at the mention of my daughter's name. Yeah, she had everyone wrapped around her finger.
"Message relayed. Now get out." He grumbles.
"You're a great Coach, I ever tell you that?" I add a souther hilt to my voice and mockingly bat my eyes.
The door slams in my face.
Figures.
I chuckle good-naturedly and turn, suddenly nose-to-nose with Cameron.
"Jesus!" I stumble back, looking at him incredulously. "Where in the hell did you come from this time?"
"What do you mean 'this time'? I came from my mother's vagina, end of." He states matter-of-factly.
"You know what I mean, shitface. What is your deal?"
"You should be careful." He says ominously and my brows come together.
"About?"
"The way you act around Emily."
Christ, not this again.
"Which would be?" I question casually.
"Like you want to fuck her into oblivion."
I already have.
"You're jacked up." I mutter and walk past him, shoving my shoulder against his in clear warning as I go.
"Oh, and Cam?" I turn around, ready to throw back what he always gives me.
"Yeah?" He eyes me warily, no doubt noting the glint in my eyes.
"Next time I fight you, I don't want the half-assed version you give everyone. I want to fight the real Cameron West." I barely catch the way his body locks up in surprise as I head into the locker room and leave him with the residual menace of my words. That should keep him out of my business for a while.
When I'm changed and packed up, I head back into the main area to grab Lizzie. I come to a standing halt, though, when I see what's in front of me. Lizzie is on Nate's back while he crawls around on all fours and Asher follows behind, pretending to chase them. And...are they barking? Oh, hell. I'm getting my little girl away from these fuckers. There's no telling how she'll grow up around a bunch of guys. Idiotic guys, no less.
"Give me my daughter." I demand and Nate actually fucking pouts.
"Man, why do you always hog her?" Asher grumbles.
"Because I made her." I snort.
"You did?" Lizzie exclaims, all her attention now fixed on me. "How, Daddy?"
"I, uh," The guys start cackling as I stutter over my answer.
Abort mission. Fucking abort mission.
"Want to get some ice cream, baby?" I ask instead, putting a huge smile on my face.
"Yeah!" That's all it takes and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Nate gingerly lets her off his back and I pick her up once she's settled on the ground. Her arms automatically go around my neck and I use on hand to hold her against me and clutch my gym bag with the other.
"All right, guys. I'll see you Wednesday."
"Rest up, man." Nate warns and I nod my head, complying.
"Better not see your ass here tomorrow. The sight of you training is actually making me sick." Asher chuckles but his joke falls short when he sees Nate and I and hell, even Wolfe, levelling him with a glare. He looks back, confused, but gets it when Lizzie shakes her head and holds a hand out.
"Man." He groans and hands her a dollar from his pocket. "There goes my chocolate."
"Can it be chocolate ice cream?" Lizzie gasps, turning to me with the idea.
"Don't mock me." He scowls at her and she giggles.
"6am at the airport, Cage." I turn to the direction of Coach's voice and meet his gaze where he watches us a few feet away. Emily stands next to him and I don't realize I'm staring until she looks down and Cameron widens his eyes the slightest in warning from behind her. I clear my throat and look back to Coach, who's giving me a strange look.
"Got it, Coach." I confirm and haul ass out of the gym before doing anything else stupid.
"Bye, Coach! Bye, Emily!" Lizzie waves at them with a toothy grin and they wave back, beaming.
"Bye Uncle Cam-Cam, Uncle Nate, Uncle Asher, and Uncle Wolfe!" She waves at the guys, who appear taken back by their titles. I'm sure I look just as shocked, never having heard Lizzie address them like that.
"Dudes, we're uncles." Cameron fist-pumps and the guys whoop their satisfaction. Even Wolfe nods in silent agreement.
I roll my eyes at their antics but secretly I'm amused. In some weird way, Lizzie has tied all of us together in an almost family-like bond. I guess the Fighter's Den crew is some sort of whack family, but admittedly I like it.
We call out our final goodbye's and head for my car. As I buckle Lizzie in, she looks up at me with a happy and dimpled smile.
"I like them." She informs me.
"Same here." I agree, kissing her forehead.
I head into the driver's seat, buckling in and start the car. I head off towards Lizzie's favourite ice cream parlour, feeling genuinely sated after weeks. It's a few unusually quiet moments before Lizzie hesitantly speaks up from the back.
"I like Emily the best, Daddy." She says in a small voice.
I won't lie. The statement hits me square in the chest and my grip on the wheel becomes a deathly hold. The fact that Lizzie has grown so attached to Em and I'm pushing her away in the meanwhile doesn't escape my notice. I don't exactly like what I'm doing, either. So, in a moment of weakness, I confide in my daughter and finally voice the truth.
"Me too, baby." I meet her eyes in the rearview mirror where she beams at my agreement. "Me too."
________________
A/N
Thank you all for getting me past 2K! Fun fact: I actually hit 2K on the exact day it marked a month since I put up the first chapter. I'm ecstatic at the rate this book is going and I love all you readers so much!
Also, what do you guys think of the new cover? I kind of like the original better, hmm. Thoughts?
I'd like to dedicate this chapter to @aleezaghetti! Your comments are so entertaining to read and I loved having my notifs spammed by you, believe me!
Another shoutout to my homie joeyness_ because I love her so damn much. If you haven't checked out her book 'Takes Time,' please do so! It's fantastic, I assure you!
Be sure to leave comments and thoughts! I love reading them.
And finally, don't forget to vote and share if you enjoyed this chapter!
Thank you :)