Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Cameron

"Oh Cameron, I'm so proud of you, but I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. He kept hitting you again and again. And look at the cut above your eye. It looks...horrible," my mother said, reaching out to put the ice pack on my eye… again.

I hated her fussing over me. This was my time to be alone and heal. Relax. But I wasn't being allowed that luxury, especially with them here at Chris's apartment with me. Thankfully, they weren't spending the night. Mom had insisted that they ensure I got back here safe and sound. As though I was still her child who needed to be tucked into bed or something.

"Mom, I'm okay. This happens all the time." I regretted those words instantly.

"That doesn't make me feel any better about this. Why can't you get a normal job like your brother? I don't lose sleep worrying about him, like I do over you and your career," she stated.

"There's no reason for you to worry about me either. It's not like I'm fighting in the streets or in some gang. I'm a highly trained professional," I reminded her.

She huffed and turned to my father. "Why are you just standing there? Talk some sense into your son," she demanded.

"Sarah, he is not a child. Cameron makes his own decisions, just like Chris. We don't have to agree with them."

I took the ice pack off my eye and looked at him. "You have an issue with me boxing too?" That was the first I was hearing of it.

He looked at my mother, and she crossed her arm.

"He's talking to you, not me. Cameron already knows how I feel," she stated.

Dad turned to me, "I used to watch boxing with your grandfather when I was young. Your grandmother hated boxing. She would go out onto the porch and do her knitting just to avoid hearing it on the TV. That never stopped us from watching. If your grandfather were alive today, he'd be as proud of you as I am. And he would've been ringside cheering you on. And even though your mother doesn't like boxing, you should've heard her yelling and cussing when he had you up against the ring. I think if she could've climbed into the ring and hit your opponent herself, she would've."

"Patrick, that is not true. I wasn't that bad," she tried defending herself.

"Did you or did you not swear repeatedly at the referee?" he asked her.

"Maybe once or twice," she snorted.

Dad laughed. "Yeah. Okay. And when Cameron started to lay into the other guy, I believe you said, ‘give it back to him', with a few other adjectives in that mix."

"You make it sound like I cuss like a sailor."

I had never known my mother to use foul language, but she wasn't denying it. I was too preoccupied with the fight to even think about where they were seated or whether they were enjoying the fight. Somewhere along the line, I stopped listening to my parents' debate about what transpired at the fight and thought back to the match itself.

For a while, I wasn't sure if I was going to last the second round, never mind, win the belt. I had trained hard and even though I felt ready, I had gone up against a three-time winner. I knew that the odds weren't in my favor, and anyone who wagered money knew it as well. All that did was make me push even harder.

It paid off, but it wasn't a knockout. The judges determined by points that I was the winner by a slim margin. Not going to lie, I got lucky with the last few jabs to his right temple before the bell rang and the match was over. We were both tired and bleeding. We had both given our all. Yet sitting now on Chris's couch with the belt nearby, it felt surreal.

My cell phone buzzed again, and my father asked, "Aren't you going to answer it?"

I shook my head. "Not tonight." Chris and I had spoken on the phone already and the other person I wanted to hear from did not even have an idea that there was a title match tonight. It was best that way, otherwise, Sunday's date might not happen. Everyone else could wait until morning. "All I want to do is soak in the jacuzzi and get rest."

"Do you want me to go run you a hot bath with some salts in it for you?" she offered.

I looked at my father and he read my mind.

"Sarah, he doesn't need our help. What he needs is his privacy." He got up and extended his hand to my mother. "Come on, let's go to the hotel."

She took his hand and got up, but said, "But look at him. He needs someone to stay with him tonight. What if he needs more ice or something for pain? If I stay the night, he won't have to get out of bed to get it."

And I want to jump out of the window because there is no way in hell that my mother is checking on me in bed.

Before I could voice my opinion, Dad said, "He doesn't need a doctor. And if he does, I'm sure he knows how to call one." He looked at me and said, "We will see you for brunch tomorrow. Get some rest."

"Thanks, Dad."

"But..."

"Sarah, just tell him you love him, and let's go," Dad said.

She sighed. "I love you, Cameron. Don't listen to your father. You have my number. Call me if you need me."

"Love you too. Good night," I said.

Dad tugged on her arm and reluctantly, she left. The sound of the door latch clicking behind them was wonderful. Finally, alone.

I dragged my ass off the couch and headed for the bathroom and started the hot water. Even stripping off my clothes seemed a chore. The adrenalin from earlier had worn off, and I was left feeling sore and exhausted. I wasn't one who took meds for pain. The jacuzzi was all I needed now. But I wouldn't mind the gentle touch of Sydney massaging my shoulders.

Just one touch from her, and it wasn't my shoulders that I would want her hands on.

Damn it!

Even as spent as I was, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Those thoughts only reminded me of how badly I wanted her. I had no choice but to resist acting on my needs, but the title match was over. Nothing stopped me from pulling her into my arms, carrying her to my bed, and enjoying every single inch of her.

Stepping into the jacuzzi, I let the hot water and jets pound on my sore and bruised muscles. This would need to do for now but I wasn't taking care of all that ached in me.

Shit, it's been too damn long.

Chris joked about my having a little black book of numbers that I could call depending on where I was. I hadn't put Sydney's number in that book and didn't want to. Not because she didn't make the cut, but because somehow there was something different about her. We'd been talking for a week, and we had only kissed… once. That wasn't like me at all. Hell, had it been any other woman I would've stopped talking to her and moved on.

Deep conversations never had been something I enjoyed. I mostly avoided them if possible. Yet I meant it when I asked Sydney how her day was. I wanted to know. I just wished I didn't need to lie when she asked me about mine. It wasn't a good way to start a relationship.

Fuck! This isn't a relationship. It's just going to be a date. ONE date.

I had to keep reminding myself of that. She might be different, and I wanted to talk to her, but let's be realistic, it wasn't going to last. Hell, I couldn't even believe I suggested that we spend the entire day together on Sunday. But I wasn't about to back out. I knew she was looking forward to it. And if I was honest with myself, I was too.

My phone buzzed again. It was midnight and they just weren't giving up. They could all wait until morning. There was no reason why I needed to be disturbed by the noise all night. Grabbing my phone off the stand next to me, I went to put it on silent, but it began to slip through my wet fingers. Before it fell into the water, my eyes caught one name. Sydney.

With a splash, it was completely immersed. Trying to locate it through the bubbles wasn't easy, but I finally pulled it out from under the water. The screen wasn't completely black yet, but close.

I spoke too soon. It shut off. People said putting it in a bag of rice and it will save the phone. I'd never heard of anyone telling me that it actually worked for them. I was too late to go to the store and get another one. I'd need to do that in the morning. But I didn't care about the phone. Right now, I was worried why Sydney had reached out so late. What if there was something wrong and she needed me? I had no way of getting in touch with her, or her to reach out to me again.

Getting out of the jacuzzi, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist. I searched the apartment for a phone but found none.

Great, Chris. You have everything one could want in this place except for a landline so I could call Sydney.

Since I didn't know her home address, it wasn't as though I could go and check on her myself. I wasn't about to call the police for a well-check when I had no proof that she was in trouble. No stores were open, but I had options. I could drive to my parent's hotel and use their phone or head downstairs to the bar.

Finally, something about this place that I like. A bar that's open 24/7 to the people who live here.

I threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Grabbed the keys and rushed downstairs. When I entered the bar, there were a few people sitting at the table talking. I didn't want to get into a lengthy conversation, so I headed to the bartender.

"Sorry, man. But I dropped my phone in the jacuzzi, and I needed to make a call. Can I borrow yours for a minute?"

He looked me over and then I realized why he was hesitating. "Sorry. I'm Cameron Giampietro. I'm staying at Chris Giampietro's apartment. You can verify this with the doorman if you need to."

He shook his head. "We are all made aware of any guests here. Just making sure you are okay. You look as though you've been in a..." His eyes widened and then blurted out. "You're him. The underdog that just won the WBA middleweight title match tonight."

I looked around because his voice wasn't low. The two gentlemen looked up at us briefly, then back to their own conversation.

Nodding, I said, "Yeah. That's me. But I really need to borrow your phone."

He pulled it out of his back pocket and asked, "Can I get you something to drink while you're here?"

I shook my head and went to call Sydney. Then I recalled I didn't know her number off the top of my head. All I knew was her animal clinic.

I searched Google, found her phone number, and called. Please have an emergency answering service. Sure enough, she did. That didn't surprise me. Sydney was dedicated, or as she said, ‘married to her job'."

"Sir, do you have an emergency?"

Yes. I need to know if Sydney is okay.

" Yeah. I need to see Dr. Swoony."

"She is not the one on call tonight. I could have another vet call you if needed," she said.

That wasn't going to work. "You don't understand. This is a special circumstance. She said to call if I needed not matter the time. I don't have the card with her cell phone on it. Please, if you let her know it's me, I'm sure she will be okay with you calling her. Tell her it is Cameron Giampietro."

"I...I will try, but I can't promise you that she will call."

"Okay. But she will. And be sure she calls this number, not my other one. Thanks."

I ended the call and turned back to the bartender. He reached out for his phone and asked, "Are you all set now?"

"You might be getting a call for me." At least I hope you do.

"No problem. Are you sure I can't get you a drink while you wait?"

I could really use a drink, but I still needed to hydrate after that fight. "Water if you don't mind."

He nodded, reached beneath the bar, brought out a bottle of Perrier water, and handed it to me. Normally, I'd just drink from the tap. Nothing fancy. But this worked too.

A few minutes later, he pulled his phone out from his pocket again, and said, "One moment please, and I'll give the phone to Mr. Giampietro."

He handed me the phone and I asked, "Sydney, is everything okay?"

"Yes. Is everything okay with you? You're the one who called my clinic for an emergency," she stated.

"Yeah. I saw you tried reaching out to me, but I dropped my phone in the jacuzzi, and I had no way of reaching you to find out what you needed."

She let out a long sigh. "Thank goodness that's all."

"That doesn't answer my question. Are you okay? Did you need something?" I asked.

"I sent you a text message earlier in the evening. Not at one in the morning. But I can see how you would be concerned if you thought I had."

"Oh. Yeah. My bad. I am sorry for waking you up," I said.

"That's okay. So, don't have a phone?"

"Nope. Guess I will need to take care of that first thing in the morning," I said.

"I know a place that is reasonably priced, and they have a nice variety of phones. If you want, I can pick you up in the morning and bring you," she offered.

"I've already disturbed your sleep. I can't ask you to come and pick me up early too," I said.

"I don't believe you asked. I offered," she corrected.

"True. Okay. What time?" I asked.

"They open at eight. How about I pick you up at seven-thirty?"

"Perfect. Since I don't have a phone, I'll just be waiting in front of the building. Hope you can get back to sleep," I said.

"I'm one of those people whose eyes close once my head hits the pillow."

"Good. Sweet dreams, Sydney."

"You too, Cameron," she said and ended the call.

I handed the phone back to the bartender and said, "I really appreciate that." Then I reached for my wallet and pulled out a fifty.

"The water was on me," he said.

"That's for the use of your phone."

I laid it on the counter, but he didn't pick it up.

"Try to get some rest, Mr. Giampietro. You've had a big night. And congratulations again on the win. I heard from my brother that it was an amazing fight. He was there."

I nodded and headed back to the apartment. Sleep was what I needed desperately. Not sure I was going to get any now. Sydney's sweet voice, filled with concern for me was going to haunt me all night for sure.

At least I knew that I'd be seeing her in a few hours.

Once again, the doc to my rescue.