All of Me by Tiffany Patterson

Chapter 22

Gabe

Two weeks after the underground fight, I awakened to the sound of paper ripping. Despite the lingering bullshit with Eli, I woke up every morning with a smile as Lena sat somewhere at the foot of the bed, writing away in her notebook.

I sat up and pushed the plush comforter away from my body before standing from my sleigh bed. I twisted my neck from one side to the other, working the kinks out before I headed to the foot of the bed. There, I found Lena, sitting on the floor, notebook in her lap, writing diligently.

I squatted next to her. “Decided to toss this one?” I asked, holding up one of the crumpled-up balls of paper.

“No. I’m keeping it, but I need to rewrite it. It’s a good one,” she answered without looking up at me. “Did I—"

“No,” I said, cutting her off, “you didn’t wake me.” It was the same question she asked every morning when I woke up to her writing new music.

It was like once the writing bug bit her, she couldn’t stop.

“I’ll get some coffee and breakfast started.” I pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Wait.” She grabbed my elbow. “I should be the one to make breakfast. You’ve made it every morning since I’ve moved in.”

I squinted. “What are you planning to make?”

She shrugged. “I was thinking of pancakes.”

“Hell no,” I said, immediately standing and stepping over her to head out the door.

“What?” she asked, standing to follow me. “I can cook.”

“Your cooking isn’t the problem, Cin.” I heard her footsteps on the hardwood behind me as I made my way to the staircase to the kitchen.

“Then what is the problem?” she asked, stopping at the entryway, hand on her hip.

“Pancakes.”

She sighed, shoulders sagging, as she peered up at the ceiling. “You cannot be serious about this.”

“Oh, but I am.” I pulled open the refrigerator and reached for the bowl that already contained the batter for that morning’s breakfast.

“So, you’re making protein waffles. Again?”

“They’re great,” I said. “You love them, right?” I gave her an expectant look.

“Yes, I do. But what’s wrong with pancakes?”

I was shaking my head before the entire question was out. “Waffles are better.”

“Gabe.” She moved closer, her hands going to my waist. “Look at me.”

I peered down at her.

“You do know that it’s the same thing, right?” She motioned to the bowl that sat on the counter, full of the waffle mix. “Like, literally. The same batter you use for pancakes is the same batter used for waffles.” She sighed, sounding exasperated.

This was the third time in two weeks we’d had this conversation.

“And I told you,” I paused to poke the tip of her nose, “that it’s not the fucking same.”

“The only difference is the way you prepare it. That’s it.” She dropped her hands and shrugged.

“And how you cook it makes all the difference.”

She shook her head. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Pockets,” I finally said.

She gave me the most confused look I’d ever seen on her face.

“Waffles have pockets, Cin. Little, tiny pockets for even more syrup and butter to slip inside. Pancakes are just flat. The butter slides off the side and falls onto the plate. Completely different experience. Waffles are better.”

She looked up at the ceiling and laughed. “You … might have a point,” she conceded.

“I know I’m right.” I kissed the tip of her nose and turned to plug in my waffle maker that sat on the counter.

My phone on the counter buzzed. It was a text from Preston.

Pres: What the actual fuck?!

I sighed, recognizing that my planned breakfast with Lena was ruined. Preston had been out of town, working with a few of our other athletes. The night before, I sent him a text, in code, alluding to what happened with Eli.

Pres: I’m headed to the office from the airport. Meet me there.

“I need to go,” I told Lena as I glared at my phone.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Work.”

“But you haven’t had breakfast.”

“I’ll pick up something later.” I hated to have to rush out like that. Our mornings had become a savored part of my day, but Preston and I needed to handle this Eli situation.

I leaned down and kissed Lena. It was lighter than I wanted, but I knew if I let myself kiss her for too long or too deeply, I would carry her upstairs and not let her up for a long while. I didn’t have that kind of time that morning.

“Sorry to cut breakfast short,” I told her.

“Don’t worry about it. Go take care of what you need to.”

I headed upstairs to change. At the same time, I dialed a number I knew Preston would hate but would likely get us the answers we searched for.

“Leon, it’s Gabriel. We need some information,” I said into the voicemail of Preston’s half-brother. The two weren’t close at all, but Leon Maurizio was one of the biggest loan sharks in the state. He was also into illegal betting in most athletics, but also MMA. If we wanted answers, we needed to get to him.

“Call me back,” I said finally before hanging up and heading out the door.

Twenty minutes later, I walked into the offices of No Sweat.

“He’s in the conference room,” Miriam said before I could ask where Preston was.

I entered the conference room to find an angry-faced Preston staring back at me.

“What happened?” he asked

I ran down to him the night I received that call from Jake about Eli fighting underground.

“Coven?”

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Fuck. Who knows how many people saw him that night?” Preston ran a hand through his hair as he paced.

“It’s not just that night.”

Preston stopped and turned to me.

“I’ve reviewed his previous two losses before he signed with us.”

“Don’t fucking tell me.”

I nodded. “Eli lost those fights on purpose. I’ve watched them over and over, and he could’ve won those fights.”

“He bet on them?” Preston asked.

“Someone did.”

Preston’s response was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Leon said as he entered the conference room, shutting the door behind him.

“Leon,” Preston said through gritted teeth. “You called him?” He looked at me accusingly.

“Who else would’ve called me in?” Leon asked as he sauntered into the room. “It’s not like you call me these days, little brother.”

I moved in between Preston and Leon. Leon stood about six foot four with the same dark, slanted eyes that both he and Preston inherited from their Chinese mother.

Leon wore a tailored suit, looking the part of an accomplished businessman. However, the tattoo that peeked out from underneath his collar revealed that his business dealings were the type to send someone to jail if the wrong people found out about it.

“You would think you’d be grateful that I took the time to come and see you. I’m a very busy man.”

“I called you because we need some answers. Not to goad your brother,” I said.

“Don’t fucking call him that,” Preston growled.

“Calm down,” I told my best friend and business partner. “We need to know what the hell Eli is into.”

“Then we need to speak with Eli directly. Not him.” Preston pointed at his brother.

“Did you see Eli downstairs in the gym?” I asked. I knew the answer. Eli hadn’t shown up again for practice and wasn’t answering his phone.

Preston turned away from me, throwing his hands in the air.

Leon adjusted his cufflink. “Here I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Enough,” I growled at Leon.

Smirking, he cocked his head to the side. “You were smart to call me. I see intellect runs in your family. Your eldest brother was always excellent in school. We went to the same school. Did you know that?” Leon asked. “Though Micah was a year ahead of me.”

I stepped forward, just shy of getting directly in his face. “Thanks for the bullshit compliment, but let’s get to the point. Eli Gatlin. What do you know about him?”

Leon held out his hands. “What, no lube first? Just push right in?”

“Dammit,” Preston growled behind me.

I had to stop him from charging Leon.

“Enough of the bullshit.”

Leon chuckled but held up his hand. “That’s enough. Like you two, I have work to get back to.”

“Then let’s make this quick,” I insisted. “What do you know about Gatlin?”

“I know about that underground fight you went to a few weeks ago with your girlfriend. The one where you took his place.”

“What, girlfriend?” Preston demanded. “Fuck, do not tell me you took her with you to that shit.”

I spun around and glared at Preston. I didn’t like the tone in his voice. “Lena was with me, and I had no choice but to bring her.” The only reason I explained myself to him was that he was like a brother to me. Anyone else would’ve gotten a big fuck off if they dared to question me about my shit.

“I can’t fucking believe you brought her there. She saw what happened? So now she knows Eli fought illegally?”

“What’s the problem?” I balled my fists at my sides.

“The problem is if she goes and tells.”

“She’s not.” My voice came out low and tight.

“How do you know? You saw that video, right? What she did to her last boyfriend.”

In two strides, I was in Preston’s face. “Watch your mouth about her.”

He shook his head. “Eli told me you got in his face when she came here to visit, too. What the hell are you doing? Have you now forgotten what happens when you open up to a woman who can’t be trusted?” His voice was low, so only I could hear him.

He didn’t need to name names. I knew he referred to Vanessa and her betrayal. A woman I trusted, opened up to, and who used my vulnerability to take me down.

“Last time, it cost you a national championship. This time the shit could cost you our business.” He held his arms out wide and circled the entirety of my office with his gaze.

“That won’t happen.”

“What the hell makes her so different?” Preston demanded.

My fists tightened at my sides, and for the first time, I envisioned putting them through Preston’s face.

“Fuck you, Pres.” I poked his chest with my finger, pushing him back a few feet. “Don’t ever bring that shit up again.”

Leon cleared his throat from somewhere behind us.

“If you two are done, I can get back to telling you what I know. Unless, of course, you don’t need my help any longer.”

“Get to it,” Preston demanded, a sour expression on his face. “Is Eli part of your underground ring?”

Leon gave us both a look before shaking his head. “No, and he never was.” He shrugged. “Though, I wouldn't mind having that kind of talent fight for me.”

“Whose payroll is he on then?” I asked.

“He was on his former coach’s bankroll.”

“Wolcott,” I said.

Leon nodded. “Roger approached me a couple of years ago to lend him money for some of his athletes’ fights. I knew then he was having them throw fights.”

“Let me guess,” Preston said. “You lent it to him.”

Leon cocked his head to the side. “I’m a businessman first and foremost. You know that more than anyone, little brother.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Preston growled, trying to move around me to get to Leon.

“Tell us the rest,” I said, getting in between them again.

Leon adjusted his other cufflink. “Wolcott isn’t your problem. He’s dead.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t an accident,” Preston said, glaring at Leon.

“Heart attack. Nice to see how highly you think of me.”

“We knew that already,” I said, reminding Preston we’d found that information out months ago.

“Yeah, well, this new underground club Gatlin got himself mixed up in was hosted by a couple of employees of mine. They don’t have my permission to host the fights either. They will be taken care of.” Leon paused. His gaze darted between Preston and me.

“So, who’s pulling his chain now?” I asked.

Leon held out his hands. “Your guess is as good as mine. But from what I can tell, he’s entering these fights on his own accord.”

I turned to Preston. We exchanged a look of surprise.

“I would suggest you two tell your man to keep his nose clean. He keeps running around with the wrong people, and he will bring you both down,” Leon said.

I turned to him. “Is that a threat?”

“I make promises, not threats.” He turned cold eyes on me and then to Preston. “I’m offering a word of advice.”

“Were you the one who spread the rumors about Eli? Is that how the sponsors found out?” I asked.

Leon frowned. “It’s in my best interest that I keep my affairs private.”

“Someone who works for you then?” Preston asked, moving forward. “One of the former employees who started that underground ring?”

Leon chuckled. “Possibly, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was someone connected to Wolcott. Now that he’s dead, the rumors probably won’t gain much traction anymore. But that’s if your guy keeps his shit tight,” Leon instructed.

“We don’t need you to tell us how to handle business,” Preston said.

“Don’t you?” Leon countered. “Seeing as how I’ve been in business a hell of a lot longer. Remember you came to me for information. Not the other way around.”

“I didn’t come to you for shit,” Preston said.

I felt his anger directed at me. I didn’t give a fuck about his tone. We got the information needed to know.

Leon moved to the door, pulling it halfway open. “Think of this as a favor from me to you.” He nodded with a smirk and left, shutting the door behind him.

I turned to Preston, who was pacing.

“Leon doesn’t do favors for free.”

I snorted.

“He’ll eventually want something in return for the information he gave us.”

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

Preston glared at me. I could fill his ire bubbling up. He was still pissed that Lena knew about the underground fighting. I didn’t waste my breath explaining that she wouldn’t betray my trust. I knew it in my soul, and that was enough for me.

“We need to find Eli,” I said instead. He was the final piece to this bullshit jigsaw. It didn’t make sense how he was throwing his career away, and possibly, by extension, ours.

He had some explaining to do.