Worth Forgiving
Page 52

“Caden,” I admonish.
“What? You don’t think I’ll win?”
“That’s not what I meant.” I peal his fingers from my waist and level him with an icy stare.
“You can’t still be mad at me for what happened. I thought we moved past that.” He forces the hand I’d just removed back around my waist and tugs me to him.
“Get off of me, Caden.”
He ignores me and keeps going. “You just made me so mad, letting that ass**le touch you.”
“You’re not listening to me, Caden. Get off of me.”
He leans down and whispers in my ear. “You’ll be begging for me to stick my dick inside you when I win.” Revulsion courses through my veins.
“Don’t hold your breath.” I wiggle from his hold. “Finish what you need to do with Joe and go back up to 59th Street. I don’t want you down here anymore.” I walk away.
Chapter 30
Jax
I answer a few emails and decide to send Lily flowers. I know her and Joe will be leaving for Vegas today or tomorrow with the fighters, so I use it as an excuse to send something and wish her luck. The thought of her being anywhere near Caden makes my blood boil. I’m feeling so frustrated it’s making me crazy, but I keep some semblance of control, reminding myself I have no right to feel the way that I do. It’s my own fault I don’t have a right anymore. I had it once and I have no one to blame but myself for losing it.
My cell phone rings and I hit REJECT, seeing my father’s name flash on the screen. He thinks now that I’m back in D.C., things will eventually go back to the way they were. But things will never go back. I hate hotel living, but I’d rather be here than living on his property.
I shower and throw a few things in my gym bag, not bothering to pack a suit for after my workout. It’s Saturday and the office will be scarce anyway. I’m just about to walk out the door when my cell goes off again. My finger hovers over the button to send the call to voicemail, assuming it’s my father calling again. Instead City Bank appears on my screen.
“Hello, Mr. Knight?”
“Yes.”
“This is Gertrude Waters.”
“Hi Gertrude. How are you?”
“I’m good. But I wanted to discuss something with you. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Well. I had to finish my report on the Ralley’s Gym financing…” Gertrude trails off. I never withdrew my financing application, even though the sale wasn’t happening anymore. I was afraid the bank might use it as another reason to pull Lily’s line of credit. I expect Gertrude to tell me she knows what I’ve done, but she doesn’t.
“I took a little extra time going through the reports I took back with me. Hoping maybe I could find some redundancies between all the gyms that I could suggest to Ms. St. Claire to consolidate for savings considering their cash flow was a bit tight.”
“That’s great, Gertrude. Thank you.”
“Well. The problem is I did find some things. But they weren’t the type of things I had expected to find.”
“What do you mean?”
“I downloaded the vendor payments from all sixty two stores into one file and sorted them by name. I thought perhaps I’d find duplicate insurance policies or memberships that could be eliminated. Since the gyms all have their own set of books, it would be hard to see redundant expenses unless they were all merged together.”
“Okay.”
“I did find one expense that seemed to be recurring throughout all the locations. It wasn’t huge individually, a thousand dollars per location, but when you add them up…and sixty one of the sixty two locations were paying this vendor for almost the last year, it amounted to roughly three quarters of a million dollars.”
“What was the expense for?”
“That’s what I wasn’t sure of. So I called one of the locations and they told me it was a management fee they were instructed to pay monthly from the main office.”
“Who is it to?”
“Ralley Training, Inc.”
“Maybe it’s a loan that Joe gave to the business at one time?”
“I thought that at first too. But there wasn’t a loan on the Ralley’s balance sheet. So then I looked up Ralley Training and it’s not owned by Joe Ralley.
“Who is it owned by?”
“It’s owned by Caden Ralley.”
Rage travels through my veins like electricity through a two hundred and twenty volt live wire. “Are you sure?”
“I am, Jackson.”
“Did you tell Lily?”
“Not yet.”
“Don’t.”
“But…”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m absolutely positive.”
***
“Anyone can enter the MMA Open, right?” I say to Mario, my trainer at the D.C. Ralley’s Gym, without offering an explanation as I put on my sparring gloves.
“Yep.”
“How are the matchups chosen?”
“Sealed gym ranking. The trainers rank the fighters they put in and they match up within weight class based on the ranking.”
“How do you rank a fighter who has never fought in a professional fight?”
“You thinking about entering?” Mario smiles.
“Not thinking about it. Doing it.”
“It’s about f**king time.”
“Can you rank me so I get matched up with someone specifically?”
“Has the guy fought in a sanctioned fight before?”
“Yes.”
“Then no.”
“Why not?”
“Max someone can rank an inexperienced fighter is a level five. Most fighters that have won a few fights will be a six or better.”
Fuck.
I blow through two sparring partners in ten minutes, feeling more angry than when I started. Fighting usually helps me blow off steam. But this morning the more I hit, the more enraged I become. The third one gives me more of a challenge, catching me off guard with a strike that’s more powerful than a usual sparring partner gives and we go at it full force.
I hit him with a series of quick strikes and he stumbles back, his back arching against the ropes. He grins at me, seemingly delighted at finding a worthy opponent. If this were a real fight, I’d not have let him regroup. Instead, I would have followed up with a leg strike hoping to double him over and bring him down with a knee to the back.