The Deal Dilemma

One year later

If someone would have asked me three hundred and sixty-five days ago where I’d be a year from then, I have no fucking idea what I would have said.

I might have knocked the person out in a fit of rage because that’s all I felt that night.

White-hot rage from the bottom of my shoes to the hairs on top of my head. Some might say that night, in a busted-ass, makeshift ring in the middle of nowhere, late at night, changed my life, and they wouldn’t be wrong.

My life did change, thanks to a twisted fucking promise from a thug I wish I never met, but if the option to go back in time to change it all existed, I’d hit the reset button in a heartbeat, even if it meant I wouldn’t be standing where I am today.

The life I lived before that night may have been one of simplicity and struggle, but I never needed easy, and I worked my ass off for the little I did have.

The girl included.

Davis was the drive behind the dreams. She was the reason I kept pushing for more, for better, for bigger.

Was, is, always will be.

My Sweets, my girl, my future wife—if she says yes to me tonight, and she will.

Young or not, it’s been hard to wait when I’m damn near desperate to claim her completely, but I found a way to be patient for her, the need to paint today’s memory a different shade deeper than any desire I might have.

No matter what I do, pain will always settle into her bones when this date rolls around, especially as the memories weaken with time, but I’ll be here to love her through it. It’ll be my privilege to patch up the pieces as they wear. That’s what she’s done for me my whole life, dry up the tears, glue the gaps, while trying to convince me I could hold my head high on my own, so long as I believed it.

I didn’t, but I do now.

I see now.

I’m proud now.

Of me.

Of her.

Of us.

But most of all of him.

Davis

The sun shines down on the balcony, warming my skin as I point my chin to the sky, eyes closed.

I always did like to soak in the sun. I’ll admit, I’d prefer a soft patch of grass beneath my back to a four-inch pair of heels planted on a cement slab fifty floors high, but the latter is pretty damn awesome too.

Crew picked them out, a glittery, bright baby blue.

A familiar blue, like the sky at noon when it opens up above the ocean, or the blue rings on my candy necklaces.

The blue of my brother’s eyes.

My hand subconsciously lifts, touching the sugared jewelry around my neck.

It was Memphis who bought me my first one.

We were at the party store, getting things for his eleventh birthday party that I wasn’t invited to. It was his first boys-only event, and every item we got that day was a girly girl’s nightmare, and I may or may not have pouted the entire time, and the entire week leading up to that moment at the store.

But the second we got home, Memphis told me to close my eyes, and when I opened them, my wrists and neck were covered in candy jewelry, they were the girliest thing he could find, he teased.

How he convinced my mom to buy me a dang thing, I don’t know. She wasn’t one to cave to fit throwing.

Now that I think about it, Memphis might have stolen them.

“What are you laughing about over there, girl?”

My eyes open and I turn to Layla, ignoring the fact that I’m totally giving her a quick crotch shot when I bend down, opening my arms and calling my favorite little human to them.

Evie’s little palms slap along the hardwood floor as she crawls to me, pulling herself up on my hands. Swooping her in my arms, I lift her, kissing her chubby little cheeks, but she’s stolen from my arms as fast as she’s in them.

“Nope. Nu-uh.” Julius shakes his head. “I am on ‘don’t fuck with Davis’ duty, and even pretty little baby puke doesn’t make the list of ‘Davis dos.’”

“Baby puke isn’t cute.” Remy steals the baby, stolen from me, and doesn’t look back.

“Hey, you don’t get dibs. I’m her uncle!” he shouts after her.

“And I’m her favorite!”

I gape at her, my frown meeting Layla’s the moment Julius’s does.

My friend laughs but doesn’t clear up for me or for J who Evie’s favorite actually is. She simply loops her arm in mine and drags me to the door.

She looks at me, pulls my glasses over my face and gives a curt nod.

“Ready?”

Shaking my hands out, I nod. “Ready.”

Julius tugs the door open and out we go.

Flash after flash threatens to blind all of us—thank God for Julius’s genius idea of full-face lenses, the side of the sunglasses work as blinders to the lights.

Microphones are shoved in our faces, too many questions to make out a single one shouted into the air, as we work our way to the double doors at the end, where the men in bright-yellow shirts that read Security will keep all the crazy on this side.

We step into the event center seconds before the overhead glow fades out, leaving nothing but a bright-white light pointed at the sealed doors in the center of the wall.

The music starts low, slowly growing louder as the bass climbs. The crowd begins to cheer, and the beat of my pulse hums with pride at the sound.

Just like that, the doors are thrown open, a hyped-up Willie and Drew flying through, whipping towels over their heads in a helicopter motion, as they lead the main event contender toward the center.

Several seconds go by before he comes into view, and when he does, my smile spreads. I cup my mouth and shout, but I don’t need to.

He looks right at me.

Right where he knew I’d be waiting, front row center.

He winks, his lips twitching into a small curve as he steps forward, goes through a quick check, and then he’s in the ring—his first fight as a number-one contender.

He wins tonight, he gets a title, something he should have had to work years for, yet earned in less than one. Sure, the originally planned fighter didn’t make weight, and they asked him sort of last minute, but who cares! It’s a million-dollar contract, win or lose, and if he wins?!

I couldn’t even fathom the thought, so I made him promise not to tell me.

At first, we couldn’t believe the title holder agreed to put his belt on the line, but he did what everyone has done to Crew Taylor since he was a boy.

He underestimated him, and so the current champ took the fight.

Now, my man will prove to him, as he has all others, what a mistake that is.

He’s about to brawl with a beast, and he will lose.

Plugging in my earbuds to drown out the crowd, I smile at the nonchalance of the man I get to call mine, wait for the two to touch gloves, and close my eyes to make a wish.

Crew floats around the ring, circling, taking small jabs and waiting for his opportunity to strike. One punch is all he needs, and after taking a few himself, he finds it, sooner than even I expected, an impressive thirty seconds left in the first round.

Julius pulls out my earbuds with a wink, and Drew shows up at my left, tugging on my hand until I’m at the cage.

I curl my fingers into the chain-link fence coated in black vinyl, grinning up at Crew as Willie wipes his chest with a towel and tugs a Sanchez Sangria and Brews T-shirt and hat over his head—of course the friend plug is a must in an opportunity like this, millions of people watch these pay-per-view fights. It’s a shock Willie still makes time to be Crew’s main man with how his and Layla’s business is booming. But he did hire a team to help him run the place.

The TV personality climbs inside the ring for questions, but Crew steals the mic, taking a few steps away from him, and looks out over the roaring arena—knowing his upbringing and the hardships of life he faced, Crew was an overnight favorite for those in love with the sport. Everyone loves to see a man they can relate to accomplish more than they dare to dream about achieving.

“This night means a lot to my family and me,” he begins, the crowd going wild, and I bounce on my feet. “And as much as a fight, let alone a win, against a badass motherfucker like Delacruz is, it has nothing to do with what just happened here.”

His eyes find mine through the gaps of the cage, and a long exhale whooshes into the mic.

“See, one year ago today, my family faced something I couldn’t protect them from, and we lost someone we loved.” Crew licks his lips, facing the crowd again. “He was a special man, a brother to me when I couldn’t even be one for my own blood.” He looks to Drew for a moment. “His name was Memphis Franco and he—” Crew drops the mic, looking off a moment before bringing it right back. “He was my best friend, but I, uh, I let a lot of things go unsaid for a long time, and when he died in my arms, regret like you wouldn’t believe hit me like a fucking truck. I didn’t get the chance to tell Memphis what he meant to me and now I never will.”

Tears slip from my eyes, my gaze soft on the man in front of me.

This year has been hard for all of us, but together, we’ve pushed through, letting go of the bad and remembering the good alongside my parents, who moved closer to us after Memphis was laid to rest. There weren’t a whole lot of people who came out to celebrate my brother’s life, but everyone he loved was there and that’s all that mattered.

Nothing hurts anymore, he had whispered that night, and I hold on to that when the grief gets too great, as it does. Usually when we least expect it, but I find comfort in his last words.

My brother is in a place where darkness can no longer find him, and peace can hold his hand.

Crew clears his throat. “I think about how things were left a lot, about time and how we waste it. Thoughts and feelings and how we hide them for some fucked-up reason we’re convinced matters but probably makes no sense.” Crew allows the mic to lower a bit, and when it comes back to his lips, gone is the sadness that weighed his words, a smirk and teasing fire now replacing it. “That’s a mistake I’ll never make again, so baby, my Sweets…” He makes a show of looking at me. “Get that ass in here.”

Suddenly, I’m lifted off the ground, a sharp squeal leaving me as I lock onto the bodies beneath me—Julius and Willie, who I hadn’t even seen leave the ring.

They carry me like a queen on a throne up the four short stairs and lower my heels to the floor until I’m standing right in front of Crew, in the center of the octagon.

Screams and shouts and cheers surround us, drowning out my own thoughts and confusion as I laugh nervously, leaning into Crew’s chest.

“What are you doing?” I mouth, but he only winks.

Layla appears at his left side, Evie in her arms, Willie joining her, Drew and Julius on his right.

Crew’s arms are wrapped around me, and I stare up at his handsome face.

“This girl right here,” he begins again. “She knows I love her, that I’d do any damn thing she asks me to, but what she doesn’t know is that she’s going to marry me, soon.”

My body goes stiff, and while he doesn’t look at me, his smile grows. Crew speaks louder this time.

“Wanna know what else she don’t know?” he teases, and the crowd booms. He chuckles again, licking his lips. “She’s got the ring on right now, but she won’t find it until her sweet tooth kicks in and she tries to eat her favorite piece of jewelry.”

My brows snap together with confusion, my mind racing as Crew steps back and looks down at me. It clicks then and I gasp, my hands flying to my candy necklace and I swiftly pull it over my head.

Crew laughs loudly as I bring it to my face, but I don’t have to search.

It hangs longer than the rest, shining in the light of the ring.

A white gold band, a single, simple sapphire in the center.

A blue sapphire to match my blue shoes.

To match my new office at the bar.

To match my brother’s eyes.

To match the date added to Crew’s chest.

The month and day etched on the inside of the ring shaking in my grasp, a second date beside it.

My eyes find his, blurry and leaking.

Crew’s gaze is soft, and right on time, Willie’s got the wraps cut from around Crew’s wrists, and he takes my face in his hands.

“You made me an offer that day,” he whispers for only me. “Today, I make you one.” The mic is held in front of him by his brother. “I want to keep you, Davis Franco. Let me.” Crew’s eyes pierce mine. “Deal?”

I bite into the candy necklace, tearing the stretchy string and sending little candy rings all over, the one I wanted falling right into my palm. I press it to his chest, right over the first date that changed our lives forever, linking the three together.

Stretching up as tall as I can get, I meet his lips with mine, smiling as I say, “Deal.”