All of Me by Tiffany Patterson
Chapter 27
Gabe
Two months after having dinner at my father’s with Lena for the first time, I stood over a pouting Lena.
“Are you sure you have to go?” Lena asked, staring down at the suitcase next to my feet.
We stood just inside of the front door of my home, which I’d come to think of as our home. The AC had long been fixed, and since it was mid-October, the temperatures had cooled off, but I still didn’t want her to leave.
Unfortunately, though, I needed to head out to Los Angeles for work.
“I told you to bring your ass with me,” I said before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into me.
Her frown deepened, poking out those lips that no matter how much I kissed, I still couldn’t get enough.
“Los Angeles, ick.” She shivered and made a disgusted face.
“You hate it that much?”
“No,” she said. “I loathe it.” She drew out the word loathe.
“Good. All the more reason for you to keep your ass in Texas, even after you finished that album.”
Her eyes ballooned. They always did whenever I mentioned her remaining in Texas long-term.
I bent low, taking her chin in between my fingers. “All of you. Remember that,” I said against her lips right before kissing her.
The kiss was shorter than I wanted it to be. My phone buzzed, alerting me that my car had arrived.
“I’ll be right here when you get back.”
I gave her another kiss before forcing myself out of the door.
Though I hated to leave her, I was only going to be in LA for two days. Aside from business regarding No Sweat, I also had a special trip I needed to make.
Lena might have wanted to ignore the interview that prick of an ex-fiancé did, talking about her, but I couldn’t. After weeks of debating and going back and forth in my head about it, I finally listened.
The asshole had purposefully answered questions the interviewer brought up about Lena. He could’ve easily avoided them. Instead of doing that, he did the opposite. He’d leaned into his answers, often insinuating that Lena was mentally unstable and that he’d been dealing with it for years behind the scenes.
The douchebag had brought up everything he supposedly did for Lena and her career. Somehow, he’d conveniently left out the part where he made millions off of her while he worked her like a damn racehorse.
And on top of all of that, he lied, cheated, and manipulated her so she wouldn’t think she was good enough without him.
Thinking about it made me see red. The entire flight to Los Angeles, that interview played on a loop in my mind. Even when Preston and I went over our meetings for the day, I continued to replay that cocksucker’s voice in my mind.
“You look distracted,” Preston finally said about an hour before we landed.
I turned to look at him but didn’t say anything.
He leaned in. “Is this about business?”
With a shake of my head, I said, “Nah, this is personal.”
Preston eyed me, his face tightening.
I braced myself, ready to curse him out if he said any nonsense about Lena. He hadn’t said anything more about our relationship, but I believed he still had doubts about her.
“You know whatever it is, I’ve got your back.” He leveled a look at me. “You know you’ve got three brothers, right? Not just two.”
“It involves Lena,” I said.
He nodded. “I figured.” There was a slight cynicism in his voice, but he didn’t argue or try to talk me out of what I was thinking of doing.
“You’ve got one and a half. Just so you know.”
He pulled back, giving me a confused look.
I chuckled. “Brothers. You’ve got one and a half.”
He grunted, hating to be reminded of Leon. Their rift was years in the making, but for all intents and purposes, Preston was as much my brother as Micah and Ace were.
“We need to make a stop before our first meeting,” I told Preston as soon as the plane landed.
“What’s the location?”
I nodded, grateful that despite his misgivings on relationships and love and all of that shit in general, Preston didn’t hesitate to have my back. He might push back when doubts arose, but when it came down to it, I didn’t have to ask for him to have my back. It was a given.
* * *
By the timewe made it to our hotel to drop off our luggage, I had received a message telling me where I could find Nate. I’d put in a call to a former employee of Micah’s, who now worked in Los Angeles.
He was able to find out that on that particular afternoon, Nate was working in a music studio not too far from our hotel.
“You’re not going to kill him or anything, are you?” Preston asked as he followed me down the hall toward the lobby where our driver waited.
“Too many witnesses for anything like that,” I quipped over my shoulder. Though, truthfully, the thought had crossed my mind. Nate didn’t deserve anything less, but I wasn’t a killer unless I had to be. There were other ways to convey a message.
“Good, because I didn’t wear the right suit for all of that,” Preston said as we got in the car. “Oh, and we need to be back within the hour. We’ve got a meeting.”
I nodded. This meeting was with the management of another prominent fighter in the NFA. We’d already negotiated for Eli to have his first professional fight in the league. Now, we needed to work out the logistics of a fight for one of our other athletes.
The ride over to the studio should’ve been quick, but fucking LA and its traffic made it twice as long as it needed to be. By the time we arrived at the studio building, I was ready to come face-to-face with Lena’s ex.
“I know you’ve got shit to handle about your woman with this guy, but I don’t feel like going to jail either,” Preston said as the security guard waved us through the turnstile that separated the lobby from the elevator bank.
I pressed the button for the third floor before turning to Preston. “Then you better make sure no one gets on their phone to call the police.”
He rolled his eyes and grunted.
Minutes later, we exited the elevator on the fourth floor, and I pointed in the direction that led to the room number we searched for. I didn’t bother knocking before barging inside.
“The hell?” a man’s voice shrieked as I entered.
I felt Preston move in behind me and shut the door. I immediately counted the number of men inside of the room. There were two, including Nate, who sat at the far end. The second dude was big as shit, probably Nate’s security, but by his reaction, I could tell he was slow and not much to handle for Preston.
There was a third guy behind the glass in the studio’s booth. He looked no taller than five-six, and he was scrawny as he rapped about some bullshit. He wasn’t much to take on. The only issue was whether they had weapons or not, which I bet at least one of them did.
I advanced on Nate, getting in his face before he could think of pulling a weapon.
“Calm down,” Preston said behind me. “We’re just here to talk.” He spoke to the burly motherfucker, who also stood up.
“Talk about what?” Nate demanded, his face pinched in a scowl.
“Lena,” I said.
Recognition dawned on his face. “Oh.” He chuckled like something was the fuck funny. “You’re the son of a bitch who’s fucking her now, huh?”
The sentence was just out of his mouth before I connected a right hook with his jaw.
“Argh,” he bellowed, bending over from the hit.
“Shut up,” I said through clenched teeth. “I only hit you with like thirty percent of my full force.”
I converged on him right as he covered his mouth that’d begun bleeding. I pinned him against the wall with my hand to his throat, squeezing it tightly.
“Get. Off. Me,” he wheezed out while gasping for air.
“No, see, we need to get something straight first.”
“Calm down, tiny,” Preston said behind me. I heard some sort of scuffle, but I didn’t bother to look over my shoulder to see what was happening. If anyone could handle it, it was Preston.
“What the hell is going on out there?” the scrawny rapper in the booth asked.
He kept his ass right where he was, though, so I knew he wouldn’t be a problem.
“Tell him everything’s square out here,” I told Nate.
His eyes bulged, looking almost as if they were going to pop out of his head. My only problem with that was if he got blood on my damn suit jacket. I planned on wearing it to our next meeting.
“Tell him,” I demanded, pushing his head into the wall behind him.
He leaned over and pressed the intercom button for the studio. “E-Everything’s cool,” he strained, although I’d loosened my grip slightly.
“A-ight.”
“That was some interview you did a few weeks ago,” I said, my tone dripping with ire and hatred for this dumbass.
“Sh-She sent you?”
I shook him by the neck. “Don’t ask me any questions. Especially not about her. All you need to do is listen and nod. Is that clear?” I waited for a beat.
When he didn’t respond, I tightened my grip on his neck and shook him again. “Is that clear?”
He nodded fervently.
“Excellent. From here on out, you don’t do any more interviews about her. If someone mentions her name, you pretend like you don’t know who the fuck she is. Got it?”
He hesitated, and I slammed his head against the wall again.
“Got it?”
He nodded.
“Good. This conversation’s going great so far. Don’t you think so, Pres?” I glanced over my shoulder.
Preston had Tiny on the floor, his foot on his back, and a gun pointed at his head. Since I knew he hadn’t brought a weapon, I figured he’d taken it off the guy.
“You probably should get better security,” I told Nate, smirking. “Nothing to say to that?” I taunted. “It’s okay. I don’t need you to say anything. I can’t fucking stand the sound of your voice.
“All we need to get clear is that you are to keep my future wife’s name out of your fucking mouth. Today, tomorrow, and with every day that passes from here on out. This is your first and last warning. Be grateful I chose to give you one.”
I pushed away from him, releasing the hold I had on his throat. He doubled over, coughing and struggling to breathe.
Standing over him, I trembled with the urge to punch the shit out of him again. The only thing that held me back was knowing that soon Lena would be able to cut ties with this scumbag once and for all.
She was steadily writing. With each passing day, she grew closer to completing her album on her terms and how she wanted it done.
I was proud to see her in her element, and I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize that.
“I should call the damn police,” Nate said as I backed up toward the door.
“Do it.” I wanted to see him act like a bitch and call the police.
He didn’t move, but he continued to glare at me.
“What I thought.”
“You’re a fucking professional fighter. Your hands are deadly weapons or some shit. You will go to jail for attempted murder.”
Preston sucked his teeth. “Not that bullshit rumor again.”
I chuckled. “You’re trying to manage fighters and don’t even know that’s a fucking myth?” I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “No wonder Eli or any other serious fighter hasn’t signed with you.”
That got Nate riled up as he beat his fist against the wall. But he didn’t come after me or Preston, who still held a gun on his security. He wasn’t that stupid.
“You keep your hands out of the fighting world. Leave it to the people who know what the hell we’re doing.” I circled the room with my gaze, pausing as I glanced over at the guy still in the booth, staring wide-eyed between Nate and me.
“Focus on your other endeavors. You’re going to need that focus once Lena finishes this album and is no longer contractually obligated to you.”
I scowled at him, my fingers still twitching to pummel his damn face, but I held back.
“I think you’ve proven your point,” Preston said. “It’s time to go.”
I moved to the door and waited for Preston to hand the security back his gun.
“Nothing personal,” Preston told Tiny as he handed the gun back after he removed all of the rounds, including the one in the clip.
“You’re going to regret coming at me like this,” Nate finally said right as I stepped outside of the studio.
I started back for him, but Preston held me back by the chest. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Come the fuck on, Gabe,” Preston growled. “His ass is just talking shit. You know this.”
It always amazed me when people got balls once your hand was no longer around their neck.
“Keep talking shit,” I threatened but didn’t push past Preston. I knew Nate’s type. He had a massive ego, and the thought of losing face in front of his security guard and that wannabe rapper was enough to get him to talk shit.
As long as he kept his mouth shut about Lena, I’d let him keep his life.
“Let’s go,” I told Preston. This visit was over. I wasn’t concerned with his stupid ass.