Moody: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 14

  His shoulders sling forward and he turns.

  “Griff.” My voice sounds strained with the emotions I’m trying to hold back.

  “Yeah?” He glances over his shoulder, eyes bloodshot.

  “You haven’t lost us.”

  He swallows hard, then gives another sharp nod, before disappearing around the corner.

  I stand there for a long time before pulling my phone out and dialing the hospital, needing to hear Izzy’s voice, and to let her know what’s going on with her brother.

  “Can I speak with Dr. Stewart?”

  “Sorry, but she isn’t working today.”

  A knot forms in my throat.

  “Can you double-check?”

  There’s a brief pause, then she says, “Sorry, but she isn’t here. If you’d like me to take a message–”

  I hang up and curse under my breath. I try her cell. No answer.

  The lump in my throat has shifted down, tightening my gut. I knew she was hiding something this morning. I could feel it. I should have pressed her. Because there’s only one reason I can think of why she would lie to me – Jason.

  Chapter 30

  Izzy

  Pulling up to Jason’s offices, I park beside his BMW and turn off the ignition. It takes me a few minutes before I gather the courage to get out of the car, and walk the twenty feet to the front of the building.

  “Welcome to Reagan and Associates. How can I help you?” A twenty-something blonde whose double-d’s are practically spilling out of her blouse gives me a plastic smile, while batting her ridiculously long false eyelashes.

  “I’m here to see Jason.”

  “He’s not here right now, but if you’d like to leave your name.”

  Bullshit. “His car is parked out front.”

  Her collagen lips form a perfect o, and her eyes widen as if she wasn’t prepared to be caught in a lie.

  I roll me eyes, and start down the long corridor towards his office.

  “Miss, you can’t go back there.” The click of her heels follow behind me.

  I push the door open, unapologetically.

  “Miss, you can’t–”

  Jason leans back in his chair, a smirk plastered across his face. A face I once thought handsome, now just repulses me.

  The funny thing is he doesn’t seem surprised to see me.

  “It’s all right Jenny.”

  She gives me a dirty look before turning on her heels and heading back to her desk.

  “Come in.” Jason stands, watching me with a hawk-like gaze, victory written all over his features. “And shut the door behind you.”

  I close the door, trying to remain calm, but my hands shake uncontrollably as I concentrate on my breathing and try to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing.

  “I came because I want–”

  “I know why you came.” One side of his mouth quirks up. “Sit.”

  “I think I’ll stand.”

  “Sit down, Isabelle.”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat and take a seat, placing my purse on the chair beside me, my phone peeking out just enough to record our conversation. I just hope that it’s enough.

  Jason moves around the desk, then sits on the edge, so that he’s peering down on me.

  “You want to make a deal.”

  “Yes.”

  He crosses his hands over his knee and leans back, eyes narrowed. “And what does your boyfriend think about you coming here?”

  “Moody doesn’t know, and I plan on keeping it that way.”

  His grin broadens. “Good.”

  “I want you to leave him and Griffin alone. Whatever money you think they owe, I want their debt erased. If I give you what you want, then you can’t go near either of them ever again.”

  He tsks and shakes his head. “And what do you think I want?”

  My heart beats violently in my chest. “I’ll agree to marry you.”

  Silence hangs heavy between us, gazes locked, and I get the sinking feeling that my offer won’t be enough.

  “So you think I should just let the man who fucked my fiancé walk away with a clean sheet?”

  “I wasn’t…” Clenching my back teeth, I fight the urge to argue, knowing it won’t make a difference to the messed-up reality in his head. “Yes.”

  He reaches out, cold fingers brushing against my cheek, and I have to repress the shiver that threatens to shake my entire body. “And how do I know you’ll follow through?”

  “I’ll sign one of your contracts.” I feel like I’m going to be sick. “Whatever you want.”

  His nostrils flare, and a malicious smile forms on his lips. “Whatever I want?”

  I nod, forcing the bile down my throat. “But I want the contract that Moody signed.”

  “Why?”

  “To make sure you can’t use it against him. You said yourself that the contract is void. That he reneged on your deal. I’m just wondering how you plan on proving that? It’s not like you can go to court with that type of accusation.”

  “My means for collecting unpaid debts is a little more innovative.” He stands, circling the desk, then opening one of the drawers and pulling out a folded document.

  “You mean barbaric.”

  “Yes.” He chuckles darkly.

  “You never planned on honoring the contract.” It isn’t a question.

  He eyes the papers in his hand, lips pursed as if thinking, then looks back at me. “I told you once, I always get what I want, by any means necessary.”

  “So you admit that Moody fulfilled his end of the deal?”

  His nostrils flare. “No. He was supposed to make the fight look real, but no matter how hard your brother went at him, he held back.”

  “So you admit that you paid Moody to lose the fight?” I’m pushing too hard. I can see the suspicion growing behind his eyes, but I need him to admit it. “How much money did you make betting against him?”

  His face goes cold. “Let’s just say I doubled what that junkie brother of yours owes me.”

  Junkie.

  I frown, and Jason gives a harsh laugh.

  “You didn’t know? What did you think the money was for?” He shakes his head and places the contract on his desk. “So naïve, Isabelle.”

  My fingers clench into fists. “So you’re a drug dealer too? Your parents must be so proud.”

  “I didn’t say I gave your brother drugs, I just provided a means to get them.” He hovers over me, expression now stoic.

  “So how does it all work? The underground fighting, the money laundering…the collection of dues?”

  “Why all the questions?” He moves around the desk, then leans towards me, hands firmly planted on the arms of my chair, trapping me. “What are you playing at?”

  “I…” My stomach drops to the floor and panic constricts my chest. Taking a deep breath, I hold his gaze and push, “If I’m going to marry you, I think I deserve to know what I’m getting into.”

  His lips curl over his teeth in a sneer. “You’re up to something.”

  “No. I just…” My gaze unconsciously goes to my purse, and I immediately regret it.

  We lunge for the bag at the same time, but he’s quicker. He pulls my phone out, then tosses the purse on the floor, scattering the contents.

  “You’re recording me?” He shoves the device in my face. “That’s your plan?”

  Placing the phone on the desk, he brings a paperweight down on it, cracking the screen.

  My chair scrapes the hardwood floor as I stand, ready to flee.

  Jason grabs my arms and roughly hauls me backwards against his chest. He’s not as big as Moody, but he still outweighs me by a good fifty pounds, and my neck snaps back with the force.

  “You think you can fuck with me and get away with it?”

  “Let go.”

  “Or what?” His fingers tighten and he jerks me so that his face is inches from mine. “What are you going to do, Isabelle? My family owns this city, an
d I own you.”

  Fear grips me because I know I’m out of options.

  I struggle against him, but my attempt to get away only makes him clamp down harder. He twists me around, shoving me against the desk until I’m bent over, chest and face grinding into the cold wood.

  “Get off me.”

  “Beg me.” One palm is on my back, the force of his strength holding me down. His other hand rips at thin material of the scrubs I’m wearing.

  A cold numbness freezes my blood as I realize his intent.

  “Jason, please. Don’t do this.” Cool air hits my bare skin and I panic, feeling him wedged against me.

  He leans forward, hot breath against my ear, his erection digging into my back. “I’m going to show you what happens when you defy me.”

  Bile rises in my throat. I struggle beneath him, but he’s too strong.

  I scream, but Jason only chuckles, pressing harder against me, making it more and more difficult to get any air into my lungs.

  “Shriek all you want, darling. No one’s going to help you.”

  Anger burns in my throat, pricking the back of my eyes. I’ve never felt so powerless in my entire life. All I can think is how stupid I was not trusting Moody with this. His face is my anchor, my strength urging me to fight harder. But the more I struggle, the more I realize that there’s no getting out of this one, and the only thing left to do is beg for the darkness of unconsciousness to consume me.

  Chapter 31

  Moody

  My brain has come up with all kinds of reasons why Izzy would lie to me, but it isn’t until I pull up to Reagan’s building and see her car parked outside that I start to panic.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Izzy?” I mumble under my breath, fingers tightening on the steering wheel, my thoughts completely messed up.

  There’s no fucking way she’d come here without a good reason. Not after everything he’s done. But why the hell did she lie to me?

  I climb out of my truck and slam the door.

  Marching through the entrance, I ignore the small squeal of the receptionist. “Sir, you can’t–”

  Flinging the door to Jason’s office open, I freeze.

  A woman, blonde hair spilling over her face is bent over his desk, and he’s fucking her, or about to. I can’t tell at this angle.

  It takes me a moment to realize the woman is Izzy.

  What the fuck?

  My blood goes cold and I can’t move, can’t think. The stabbing pain of betrayal sears my heart.

  “Stop.” The desperate cry wakes me from my own mental hell that I seem to be trapped in.

  A deep growl rumbles up my chest and I’m barreling across the room. The bastard’s eyes go wide right before my fist connects with his face. I grip Jason’s suit in one hand, while my other slams into his face, snapping his neck back. My next shot makes his eyes roll back in his head, and his knees buckle.

  All I can see is red. I’m on top of him, my fist connecting repeatedly until I hear the faint, desperate cry behind me.

  “Moody, stop.” Izzy’s curled in a ball, crouched against the desk, trying desperately to fix her torn pants. Her face is streaked with tears, but it’s the fear in her eyes that grips me and rips me away from the bastard beneath me.

  My jaw clenches, teeth pressing together until it hurts. I could kill Jason. Fuck, I want to kill him. But the desperate look in Izzy’s eyes stops me, draws me to her. The need to comfort her more powerful than the urge to destroy the fucker.

  “I’ve got you.” I hover over her, but she flinches when I touch her.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” A deep voice resonates through the room.

  Jefferson Reagan stands in the doorway, bloated face red with rage as he looks between us and his son, who’s lying unconscious and bloody a few feet away.

  There’s no denying what was going on. Jason’s pants are half-undone, his shirt untucked. One glance at Izzy, and I can see that Jefferson knows exactly what his son had done, or what he was planning on doing.

  A shiver slices through me at what would have happened if I hadn’t barged in.

  Izzy stumbles when she tries to stand, and despite her protest, I scoop her up in my arms.

  “Get her out of here,” Jefferson says, a look of disgust curling his lips.

  “My phone,” Izzy whispers hoarsely. Her fingers tighten in my shirt. “On the desk…beside your contract.”

  The screen is shattered when I pick it up, along with the papers. Her purse and its contents are spewed across the floor, and I’m grateful when the receptionist hastens to pick it up and hand it to me.

  Jason groans starting to come to and I feel Izzy tense in my arms.

  There’s a small audience of men and women watching now from just outside the door.

  “You’ll keep your son away from her if you know what’s good for you,” I say to Jefferson as I walk towards the exit.

  He bristles, but gives a curt nod.

  Izzy is trembling uncontrollably in my arms by the time I get her to my truck.

  “My car,” she says weakly, as I place her in the passenger seat, and pull the seatbelt over her shoulder, buckling it.

  “I’ll have Theo come get it.”

  She blinks up at me. “I…I’m so sorry.”

  “Izzy, look at me.” I tuck my hand under her chin and force her gaze to meet mine. “I need to know if he…” My back teeth grind together on the words. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

  She gives a small shake of her head and says almost inaudibly, “He didn’t have a chance.”

  “Good.” I press my lips to her forehead and exhale roughly. I pull back, cupping her face with both hands. “We’ll talk about it later. But I want to get you home now.”

  She nods and I release her.

  I’m still on high alert, every muscle in my body pulsing with tension as I drive out of the parking lot.

  Izzy doesn’t speak the entire drive back to her apartment, or when I open the door and help her out of the truck.

  Silently, we walk up the stairs. Izzy fumbles with her purse, dropping her keys when she tries to unlock her door.

  “Here.” I pick them up. “Let me.”

  “Thanks.” Her voice quivers on the word, and she bites her lip to stop the trembling.

  Inside, she stands still, looking lost. Gaze clouded over, she just stares into space.

  I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, and bury my face in the crook of her neck.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what happened. What were you doing there?”

  Her entire body goes tense. “I…I need a shower.”

  She starts to pull away, but I don’t let her. Instead, I place my arm under her knees and pick her up, carrying her to the bathroom, not letting go until we’re both standing in the large ceramic tub.

  I turn the water on, and she sputters, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not leaving you.” I keep my voice steady, gaze unwavering from hers.

  Wrapping my hands around her waist, I let the warm water cover us, plastering our clothes to our bodies.

  “Talk to me, Izzy.”

  She shivers and drops her chin. “I…thought I could help.”

  “Help what?”

  “Jas–” she cringes. “He called. Said you didn’t fulfill your end of the contract. That he was going to make you pay the debt, or ruin your career.”

  “Bastard.” I should have known he’d try to use her to get to me.

  “I thought if I could get him to admit everything. If I recorded him. That maybe–”

  “You recorded him?”

  She winces. “I messed up. He saw my phone, and…”

  I wrap my arms around her, drawing her tight against my chest. “You shouldn’t have gone there alone.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted to protect you.”

  “That’s not your job.” I run my hands down her back, feeling the tension in each muscle.


  “Yes, it is.” A sob breaks up her words, and she looks up at me, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t you understand? You’re always taking care of everyone. Putting others in front of yourself. I knew if you found out, you’d probably do some stupid heroic thing that would put you in danger.”

  “So you thought you’d do it for me?”

  “Yes.” She shakes her head. “No. I thought I could fix it.”

  “I can only imagine what his terms were.” Frustration thickens my words. “What were you willing to sacrifice? Yourself? Us?”

  “If it meant protecting you, then yes. He was threatening to destroy your career.”

  “I don’t give a damn about my career if it means losing you.” I tangle my fingers in her damp hair, forcing her to look at me. “None of that matters. Don’t you understand that? Do you really think I could live with myself knowing he’d hurt you because of me?”

  Tears stream down her face. “And how am I supposed to live with myself knowing he destroyed your future because of me.”

  “Damn it, Izzy. You. Are. My. Future.”

  Silence stretches between us as our eyes war with each other, both struggling with what the other is willing to sacrifice. The question neither one of us want to answer. Am I really worth it?

  “Yes,” I growl out.

  “What?” Her brows furrow.

  “You’re worth it Izzy Stewart. Your worth giving up everything for. Because there’s no future that I can think of that’s worth living in if you’re not in it.” I rest my forehead against hers. “And you know what else?”

  “What?” her lips quiver on the word.

  “I’m worth it, too. I’ve probably fucked up more than anyone I know, and I can’t promise that I won’t continue to. But I promise that there’s no one on this planet that will ever love you more.”

  Her body softens against mine, some of the tension finally dissipating.

  “You really want to spend your life with me?” She runs her palms up under my t-shirt.

  “More than anything.”

  Her breath comes out as a soft quiver, blue eyes locked on mine. “I work too much.”

  I shrug. “As long as you come home to me when you’re done.”

  “And I’m a really terrible cook.”