Page 82 of Saving Blood

I close the distance between us. “We don’t have to talk about anything right now if you don’t want to.”

Javi’s funeral and the emotional turmoil has taken its toll on both of us.

“Nah, I want us both to get the fuck outta our pasts.”

Blood motions to the couch, and we both sit. What looks like an expensive bottle of wine rests on the coffee table with a note attached. Blood opens the card and smiles.

“Seems like Marisol has more faith in us than we do.” He hands me the card.

“Every celebration deserves a good bottle of wine, and since Blood knows nothing about wine, I took the liberty. Hope you enjoy it. Love, Marisol”

“P.S. Don’t screw it up, Blood.”

“She’s so sweet.” I reread the card. “She was so kind to me last night.”

“Yeah, anybody who can keep Smoke’s wild ass in line has to be special.” Blood pushes off the couch. “Let me find a corkscrew.”

I reach for his hand. “Let’s talk first.” I tug him back to the sofa.

He reluctantly sits. “Babe, this isn’t necessary. Like I said before, I don’t care about what happened with you and?—”

I press my forefinger to his lips. “I told you about me holding out when the other girls went to work in the brothels, and how Hector sent for me and told me I would train in the gym, have my own living space, and then join the other female cage fighters. I actually thought I’d bested him until he laid out the rest of the bargain.” I draw in a slow breath, determined to get this out without breaking. “What I didn’t tell you is I was to live with him at the ranch house in Rosarito, which included sharing his bed.”

“That bastard,” Blood growls. “I wish I could put another fuckin’ bullet in him.”

I swallow down the quiver in my voice. “He made it quite clear there were no other options if I wanted to keep breathing.” I concentrate on the hem of my t-shirt for fear I would see Blood’s pain, anger or utter disgust.

“Hey.” He gently cups my cheek until I look at him. “You were practically a child in a foreign country, with nowhere to go and no means of escape. A prisoner, so I don’t want you to ever blame yourself or feel less than what you are and what you’ve accomplished under the worst circumstances.”

I draw my lips inward. “You really feel that way?”

“Shit, babe, of course. You chose to survive, and that’s what makes you one of the best female . . . one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen. You had and have the will to survive.”

His strong arms circle me, drawing me closer, and I burrow into his warm chest, loving the scent of him.

“Believe me, I’ve done way worse.”

I push away from him but stay close. “Now it’s your turn for the truth.”

BLOOD

I have no way of knowing how Maxine would react to my past, but if I don’t come clean, we could never move forward.

“I just want you to know, the only other person who knows this story is Smoke.” Yeah, I’m stalling for time, but admitting to killing your own father isn’t something people usually talked about.

Maxine stays quiet but grabs my hand in hers, her eyes pleading with me to continue.

“Believe it or not, I grew up in Beverly Hills, the only son of Jack and Doris Collins. My father worked for some of the biggest stars in the business. He was what you would call a ‘fixer.’ If a celebrity found him or herself in a compromising position, my father would take care of it, for which he was paid very well.

“We lived in a beautiful home with an inground pool, tennis courts, and all the perks my father’s money could buy. Unfortunately, my father was also a son of a bitch who would do any dirty deed to make a deal. He gathered incriminating information on political and city officials, which ensured his luxurious lifestyle. I won’t say he actually killed anyone, but I know he had people threatened to get what he wanted.”

Maxine hasn’t moved a muscle, like she expects the worst.

“What I couldn’t excuse was the way he treated, or I should say, mistreated my mother and me.” I pause as the memories flood back. “My mother’s suspicious ailments, putting her to bed for days, were really her nursing a black eye or a broken jaw.”

“And he hit you too?” Maxine asks.

“Until I got as big as him. Then he took me down mentally, telling me I was stupid and worthless, and he had no trouble voicing these opinions in public.”

---