Going For It (Texas Titans #7) Read online

  One of his trainers poked his head in the door. “Hey, Blaise, your parents and brother are outside. You mind if they come in?”

  “Sure.” He was disappointed Kiara hadn’t come back to wish him luck before the fight, but at least he knew she was there. She’d texted him from the cab to let him know they’d landed and were on their way to the Gardens.

  Blaise smiled at the sight of his family. They’d come further in the past few months than he thought possible, and finally having people in his life he could count on felt great. His parents had curbed their gambling habits, and his father had even started volunteering with Charlie at the youth center to fill his free time.

  Rowan shook Blaise’s hand before pulling him into a back-slapping hug. “We won’t keep you. Just wanted to wish you luck.”

  “Thanks.” Looking over his parents’ shoulders, he asked, “Marla’s not here with you?” She and Rowan had become close in the past few months, and while Blaise wasn’t convinced it was the right relationship for either of them, he was trying to be supportive.

  “No, she thought it was best to steer clear. Just because Morin signed over his parental rights when he signed the divorce papers doesn’t mean he wouldn’t give her a hard time if he saw her here supporting you.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Blaise hugged his parents. “You haven’t been to your seats yet, have you? You’re going to be sitting with Kiara and our friend Dalton. Rowan can introduce you.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her.” His mother patted his cheek. “Based on everything you’ve told us about her, I have a feeling we could be welcoming her to the family very soon.”

  “God willing,” Blaise muttered, looking toward the ceiling.

  “You think I could have a minute alone with my boy?” his father asked. “I’ll meet y’all out there.”

  “Sure.” Rowan patted his brother’s back before leading his mother to the door. Looking over his shoulder, he said to Blaise, “No matter what happens out there, I know you’ll make us proud tonight. Just getting back in there takes guts.”

  “Thanks.” Blaise had always tried to be a good role model for his kid brother. It meant a lot to him to know that he could still make a positive impact on the people who mattered to him.

  His father stuck his hands in the pockets of his baggy, faded jeans. “I know you’ve been through a lot of these, but, uh, since this is your last, and the first one I’ve been to, I just wanted to take a minute to tell you…” He shrugged. “Well, like your brother said, we’re proud of you. You’ve got a hell of a lot more courage than I ever had.”

  “What do you mean?” Blaise asked, frowning.

  “You fight when most men would run.” He dipped his head. “You stand up for yourself, look your opponent in the eye, and strike back.”

  “You ever wish you’d done that?” Blaise said, throwing a towel over his shoulder as he propped one foot on the bench between them. “You ever wish you’d fought back instead of taking it?” They were finally talking about the abuse his father had endured as a child, and while the timing wasn’t ideal, Blaise was grateful his old man was finally opening up about what he’d been through.

  “Sometimes it’s better to back down. When your opponent is bigger and stronger and you know you don’t stand a chance…”

  When Blaise considered the fight between a boy and his father, he supposed that was true.

  “I beat you down,” his father said softly, refusing to meet Blaise’s eyes. “Not the way my father beat me down, but I know it hurt just as much. I’m ashamed of the things I said and did. I’m just grateful you were strong enough to overcome them. I wasn’t.”

  Blaise was overwhelmed. He’d never believed his father would accept blame for his mistakes. He clenched his teeth, trying to find the right words. He couldn’t dishonor himself by pretending it hadn’t happened or that it hadn’t hurt, but he saw no benefit to hanging on to past hurts when they could find love and forgiveness instead. “I know you did the best you could. You were wrong, but we all make mistakes. I’m sure as hell not perfect, so how can I expect you to be?”

  “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” His father swiped a hand over his face. “I wouldn’t be stupid enough to ask for it.”

  “Forgiveness comes one day at a time.” Blaise had talked to Kiara’s father on the phone a few times since they’d met, and Dr. Wagner was helping him with a lot of buried pain. “It happens slowly, over time. Trust is built. Love starts to replace the hate, and before you know it, you’ve let go of the bitterness. I’m not there yet, but I’m definitely getting there.”

  His father looked up, his eyes filled with tears. “That’s more than I’d hoped for. I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving this earth with my boys hating me. I’m so grateful to be getting this second chance with y’all, and I swear I won’t screw it up.”

  Blaise smiled. For the first time, he felt proud of his old man. “Charlie says you’re doing a good job at the youth center. You’re making a real difference in the lives of those kids. You want to make up for the mistakes you made with me and Row? Just keep doing what you’re doing with them. It’s making your life better, and theirs.”

  “Thanks,” his father said, offering his hand. “For everything.”

  ***

  Blaise’s parents were nothing like Kiara had expected. They were sweet and humble, clearly happy just to be a part of their son’s big night. His mother grabbed Kiara’s forearm, jumping up and down like a little kid when they announced Blaise’s name. His father was shouting and pumping his fist like the other rabid fans. She’d never been to a boxing match before and was overwhelmed by the chaos and energy surrounding her. The venue was sold out. Everyone around her screamed for their favorite. Fortunately, most of the people surrounding them seemed to be cheering for her man.

  Dalton gave her a sidelong glance before putting his arm around her. “Blaise has got this. Don’t worry.”

  Don’t worry? Was he crazy? She wouldn’t be able to breathe until it was over. She watched the two men touch gloves in greeting, but there was no mistaking the hatred in their eyes. For Blaise, this was about payback. For Morin, it was about defending his title. Blaise had promised her if he won the title, he wouldn’t try to defend it. This was his last career match, no matter the outcome.

  Kiara struggled to keep her eyes open as the men bobbed and weaved, dancing around each other. Each sized up his opponent, preparing to land their first blow. She feared Morin’s first blow may be Blaise’s last. She’d tortured herself by watching brutal knock-outs online and reading up on the dangers of multiple concussions and the possibility of brain damage with serious head injuries.

  Turning into Dalton’s shoulder, she said, “I don’t know if I can watch this, Mitch. I thought I could, but—”

  The crowd roared, prompting Kiara to look up. Morin was down, the ref was counting, and Kiara expelled the breath she’d been holding. “What happened?”

  “Combination took him down,” Dalton explained, pumping his fist.

  “A combination?” She’d also read up on the lingo, but her brain wasn’t processing his words. Her body was taut with anxiety as she tried to force herself to think positively for Blaise’s sake.

  “Left jab, straight right, left hook.”

  The crowd was going crazy and cheering as Morin stumbled to his feet before falling again. The ref continued counting.

  “Oh God, he’s getting up.” Kiara knew it was naïve to think the fight could be over that quickly. Morin was the defending champ, which meant he could hold his own against any contender.

  “Morin didn’t take this seriously,” Dalton said. “He was cocky, didn’t train the way he should have.”

  “How do you know that?” Kiara asked, praying Dalton was right.

  “Seen a few of his interviews. He went into this thinking Blaise was out of practice, that he was soft. He was crazy to underestimate him that way.”

  Blaise had been training ni
ght and day for months. He’d complained to her that his trainers were holding back, sticking to body shots to avoid another head injury.

  “It’s going to be okay, honey,” Blaise’s mother said, squeezing her hand. “Don’t worry.”

  Kiara’s fear must have been written all over her face if his mother picked up on it. “Aren’t you scared for him?”

  “Of course I am.” She smiled. “But he’s never had more to fight for. He’ll come out of this just fine, you wait and see.”

  Kiara prayed they were right. Clasping her hands in front of her, she watched Morin hold Blaise to avoid being hit—a clinch, she thought they called it. He was clearly on the defensive, trying to prevent Blaise from landing another debilitating blow. But Blaise wouldn’t be held at bay. He landed another right cross, and Morin stumbled back against the ropes. Not giving him time to rest, Blaise caught Morin with a swinging punch that seemed to have all his weight behind it. Morin hit the mat while the referee started his count.

  “Oh please,” Kiara whispered, “just let this be over.” She was glad she hadn’t met Blaise during his boxing days. She didn’t think she could have survived countless matches.

  But Morin wasn’t ready to go down. He stumbled to his feet again, seeming to regain his equilibrium. He came at Blaise, landing a blow that snapped Blaise’s head back. Kiara covered her face with her hands. Did that blow have the kind of impact that would end this nightmare? She wanted Blaise to win, but not at the cost of his health or his life.

  The hit seemed to light a fire in Blaise. He closed the gap between them, overwhelming Morin with a series of hooks and uppercuts, followed by a few kidney punches.

  “He’s wearing Morin down,” Dalton said. “It won’t be much longer. I don’t think Morin has enough gas in the tank to come back from this.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She’d heard of people achieving superhuman feats of strength when their back was against the wall. She hoped this wasn’t one of those instances.

  “Yeah!” Dalton shouted. “A liver punch.” He leaned toward Kiara. “That’ll bring him to his knees, guaranteed.”

  Apparently Dalton was right. Morin hit the ground, rolling to his stomach as the ref started counting. More than half the crowd joined in. Kiara counted with them when they got to seven. Finally, she heard the blessed word: ten. It was a knock-out. Blaise had won not only the match, but the heavyweight championship that had been stolen from him.

  “Thank you, God,” she whispered, tilting her head back as tears leaked from her eyes. “Thank you for keeping him safe.”

  Blaise’s mother put her arm around Kiara and squeezed her tight. “Head back to the dressing room, honey. I know you’re the first person he’ll want to see.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Blaise saw Kiara in the crowd outside his dressing room. The press wanted a statement. They wanted to know if he intended to defend the title. No way. Being back in the ring had proved to him that as good as it felt to be victorious, those days were behind him. He didn’t need the thrill of victory anymore, not when he had so many other great things going on in his life. Namely Kiara.

  He reached for her hand and pulled her tight against his chest until he realized the sweat and blood on him were staining her fitted white shirt. “Damn, I’m sorry, baby.”

  She laughed, patting his chest. “You think I care about that?” She kissed him. “God, I’m so proud of you. You were amazing out there, Blaise. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  His manager was fielding the press like the pro he was, acting as a barrier between Blaise and the dozens of people desperate for a piece of him. It would be hours before the hysteria died down, but Blaise had no intention of being holed up in a dressing room with Kiara for hours. Not when they had a luxury hotel room with a bottle of champagne and a big soft bed waiting for them.

  “We can sneak out the back while Joel fields the press. I just need to grab a quick shower first,” he whispered as he tugged on her hand. “There’s a limo waiting for us.”

  Kiara followed him into the quiet dressing room. It normally would have been filled with members of his team, anxious to congratulate him and share in the victory, but he’d asked Joel to clear the room so he could have a little alone time with Kiara.

  “Why didn’t you come see me before the match?” he asked, locking the door. “I was hoping to get a few minutes alone with you.”

  She tugged on the towel around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. “I was going to, but when Rowan took his seat, he mentioned your dad wanted to have a word with you alone. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  He appreciated her consideration, but it hadn’t been easy to get in the ring without seeing her. “I told you everything would be fine.”

  “I’m just so glad it’s over.” She held his face, looking him in the eye. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

  He loved that she cared about him so much, but he needed her to trust that everything would work out when he promised it would. “Life is all about risks, Ki. Sometimes you just have to face your fear. Otherwise, you’ll live to regret it.” He wasn’t talking about boxing anymore, and they both knew it.

  “About that,” she said, flattening her palms on his chest. “I was hoping we could talk—”

  “Blaise.” Joel rattled the door. “Let me in. I need to talk to you. Don’t worry, I’m alone. Security has the press under control.”

  Joel, his manager, and Kiara had met a few times at the gym while Blaise was training. They didn’t see eye-to-eye, mainly because Joel saw Kiara as the reason Blaise wasn’t willing to continue his career.

  “Just give me a minute,” Blaise said.

  Before he opened the door, Kiara reached for his wrist. “I’ll leave you two alone. You probably have a lot to talk about.”

  “Not really. I said all I needed to say to Joel before the fight. He knows what my plans are.” Blaise saw the doubt and fear in Kiara’s eyes. She was questioning whether he would keep his promise now that he’d won the title back. Blaise opened the door to let Joel in. “I haven’t got a lot of time. Kiara and I have our own celebration planned.”

  Kiara smiled at Joel briefly. “I’m sure you must be happy with the way things turned out tonight.” She gestured toward Blaise. “You did your job. Congratulations.”

  Joel inclined his head, muttering, “Thanks.” Facing Blaise, he asked, “Can I have minute with you before y’all head out?”

  “Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of Kiara. You know I don’t have any secrets from her.”

  Joel, a seasoned veteran who’d managed some of the most celebrated boxers of their generation, grimaced and swiped a hand over his face. “Fine. I know how you feel about defending the title, but the promoters are offering a forty-million-dollar purse. Plus, you’re probably looking at another twenty mil for pay per view.”

  Kiara’s jaw dropped as she looked from Joel to Blaise. “Oh my God, seriously?” She shook her head. “I’m used to dealing with large contracts, but that’s for one fight?”

  “Getting Blaise back in the ring is a big deal. Everyone knows the risk, given his medical history.” Joel shrugged. “It ups the ante for fans, knowing the risk. I guess it’s kind of like watching those guys on TV who swallow swords. You can’t look away even though you know the crazy bastard’s putting his life at risk.”

  Kiara glared at Joel, her hands on her hips. “Is that all you care about, the money? You’ve been Blaise’s manager for fifteen years. You, of all people, know how dangerous it was for him to get back in the ring tonight. I can’t believe you’d encourage him to do it again!”

  “It’s not going to happen,” Blaise said, raising his hand. “I don’t care how much they’re offering. This fight was about pride, principle, not money. I did what I came here to do tonight. This was the last chapter for me, Joel. Period.”

  Joel shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, I do. You can’t
put a price tag on your health, but are you sure you don’t want to think about it before I turn them down?”

  “Don’t need to.” Blaise’s mouth quirked when he looked at Kiara. “I’ve got my future more or less mapped out, and it doesn’t include professional boxing. Well, it might, but I won’t be the one donning the gloves.”

  Joel raised an eyebrow. “You’d be a hell of a manager. Should I be worried about you taking some of my guys?”

  Blaise laughed. “No immediate plans, but I’d never say never.”

  Joel smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He gestured toward the door. “I know you’re anxious to get out of here, but you’ve got to give them a quick statement, field a few questions. Ten minutes, tops.”

  Blaise sighed. “Fine, tell them I’ll be out in twenty minutes.”

  ***

  Kiara stood back, watching Blaise handle the press as if he’d done it hundreds of times before, which he probably had. She’d seen a different side of him tonight, another facet of his personality, and it made him even more appealing. Just when she thought she knew everything about him, she found another layer to peel back.

  “Before this fight, you said you were done,” a female reporter said, holding a micro-recorder toward Blaise’s face. “Have you changed your mind? Is there a dollar amount that could lure you back, Blaise?”

  He laughed. “Uh, no. Money’s of no use to you when you’re dead, and since the doctors told me that’s a very real possibility if I don’t put an end to this madness, I’d say it’s time.”

  “Why did you come back, Blaise?” a male reporter asked. “Was it to settle a score with Morin? To prove, once and for all, that you’re the better boxer?”

  “I think it started out as a challenge to Morin,” Blaise said, winking at Kiara. “But I ended up challenging myself the most. I didn’t know if I could get back into fighting form after that long of a hiatus. It feels good to know that I could. It feels even better to be going out a champion this time.”