Until My Last Breath

by Tiffany Patterson

  Joshua placed the files down on my desk before moving to me, wrapping his strong arms around me. Melting into his body, I wrapped my arms around him and inhaled deeply.

  “You know I’m with you a hundred percent of the way for anything you want to do. I’ll move heaven and earth to get you whatever it is you need.”

  I smiled against his shoulder before pulling back. “Right now I need you to finish what we started a few minutes ago.”

  He sighed and his green eyes lit up in excitement. “God, I was so hoping you’d say that.”

  My laughter was cut short when Joshua pulled my mouth to his, covering it with his lips.

  Mortality rates, doula certifications, and everything else could wait.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Present

  Joshua

  “So you’ve known Buddy for a long time then, huh?” I questioned my father, just after we entered the dark basement area of the seemingly abandoned building. The sounds of the cheering crowd could be heard as soon as we stepped over the threshold of the metal door. We were in the underground fighting ring, simply known as The Underground. My father, of all people, had introduced me to fighting nearly nine years earlier, though he rarely came to these matches with me.

  He nodded as I glanced over at him. “We go way back.”

  “Look what the wind blew in,” Buddy greeted as he strolled over in our direction.

  He was about a half a foot shorter than my father. He’d always said his height was the main reason he stuck to training and not getting into the ring himself. Though, I was sure he could handle himself if he needed to. You don’t spend more than fifty years around a boxing gym, fighters, and training some of the best of the best, and not pick up on a few things yourself.

  “Buddy,” my father greeted, extending his hand to Buddy and pulling him into a short but warm embrace.

  The many sides of my father often intrigued me. One minute he could blend in with a dingy fighting club and its trainer, and the next he could command the boardroom whose occupants combined for a net worth in the tens of billions. And a minute after that, he’d come home and be a doting, loving husband and father. He was a chameleon. But I wouldn’t dare call him a jack-of-all-trades, because unlike that saying, he actually was a master at it all.

  Do it a hundred percent or don’t do it at all. Don’t half ass anything.

  I remembered that lesson he taught me when I first came to work at Townsend Industries. I’d made it clear from the beginning that I wasn’t interested in the energy side of things but I was all in when it came to the real estate division. My father had told me those words and then got out of my way to let me sink or swim on my own.

  “I know you’re getting old, but are you getting senile on me? You came down here to fight?” Buddy questioned.

  My father shook his head. “Just checking up on my third youngest. Seeing how this operation of his is running.”

  Buddy’s gaze shifted to mine. “The kid’s doing alright. A chip off the old block.”

  I grunted at Buddy. “Whatever. I didn’t come here to talk and reminisce. You came to watch me fight or what?” I questioned my father.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  “Finally.”

  I parted ways with my father and Buddy to head to the bathroom to change into my fighting gear which was only a pair of boxing shorts, boxing shoes, and hand wraps. I waited until Buddy entered to tie my wraps.

  “Damon’s not here tonight,” he informed me.

  I nodded, already knowing he wouldn’t be making it. “He’s a newlywed. I don’t expect him to be coming as often.”

  Buddy snorted and laughed. “Same with you. We’re lucky if you make it out here once a month.”

  I shrugged. “I’d rather be at home in bed with my wife and daughter than looking at you all night.”

  “I’m hurt,” Buddy stated, clutching his chest.

  “You’ll get over it.”

  I left out of the bathroom, chuckling as he retorted something to my back. I glanced up into the ring to see Doc inside. That was his nickname. He was actually a doctor, which, obviously, was how he got the name.

  “What’s up, pretty boy?” I taunted as I entered the ring.

  “Townsend. Oh, how I’m going to enjoy this opportunity to mess up that grin of yours tonight.”

  I grunted. “Don’t count on it.”

  “Alright, boys, you know the rules. I won’t exhaust myself going over that shit again,” Buddy yelled as he stood between us. “Let’s go!” Stepping out of our way, he allowed us to do our thing.

  Doc and I circled one another, and while I was certain he was the quietest one in the room, I could feel my father’s eyes on me, watching me. It didn’t make me nervous, however. It did the same it’d always done when I knew my father was observing. It made me brave.

  “Shit!” Doc cursed when I saw an opening and landed a left hook to his right side ribs.

  “That was just a fucking love tap. Don’t be a pussy!” I taunted.

  “Fuck you, Townsend,” he retorted.

  He swung and just narrowly missed clipping my chin. But I didn’t let that near miss deter me. I went in for a sweep of his right leg, but he saw it coming and side hopped it. However, I caught him on my way up, sending a right cross to his chest, causing him to stumble backward. Nevertheless, Doc was no easy win. He wasn’t too knocked out by my cross and quickly recovered, trapping my right hook in his grasp.

  “Oh hell no,” I blurted out, knowing he was going to try an arm lock move that he was known for. Fuck that.

  I pivoted and kneed the same side of the ribs I’d punched earlier, causing him to loosen his grip on my arm just enough that I could free myself. We continued to go blow for blow for three more rounds before Buddy ended it. It was a draw.

  “You went easy on me, Townsend,” Doc stated angrily.

  I shrugged. “Didn’t want to end your career.” It came across as a joke but I was partially serious. I still didn’t fully comprehend why a doctor, a surgeon no less, would risk his livelihood by getting into an underground fighting ring that had few rules.

  We slapped fives, and I hopped out of the ring, coming face-to-face with my father.

  He patted me on the shoulder. “You half-assed it in there.”

  “How could you tell?”

  My father lifted a brow. “I’ve seen you in action when you really want to take someone down.”

  I nodded. “Are you disappointed?”

  He shook his head. “If you took it easy on him, you had a good reason.”

  I inclined my head, grateful that there were some things that my father just understood. He didn’t require long explanations for everything. He had a sixth sense better than anyone I’d met in my entire life.

  “Need someone to unwrap those gloves?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. While you’re at it, you can tell me more of you and Mother’s story.”

  “More?” he asked as if perplexed.

  I gave him a deadpan expression. “Don’t act like there isn’t a shit ton more to the story. You didn’t just sweep Mother off her feet, force her to break up with that Kaden guy, and live happily ever after.”

  Chuckling, my father lowered his head. He realized that I knew my mother’s ex-boyfriend’s name was Cohen, but I’d intentionally said the wrong name, as he’d done all of those years prior.

  “I see your mother has been sharing more of our story with you.”

  “And now it’s your turn to spill as well. What happened once Cory was out of the picture?”

  He chuckled and held out his hands for my hand to begin unwrapping as I sat on the wooden bench in the bathroom.

  “Let’s see … a lot happened after that …” he began.

  ****

  Then

  Robert

  “You’re shaking, princess,” I stated, as I pressed my hands to cover Deborah’s shoulders as I stood behind her. I squeezed the tops of her ar
ms through her silk blouse, and ran my hands up and down them.

  “I’m nervous,” she admitted.

  Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to the column of her neck, causing her to shiver. “Relax,” I whispered in her ear.

  It’d been two months since Deborah and I had officially begun dating. Eight weeks and four days since she’d broken up with Cameron or whatever the fuck his name was, and I’d claimed her as mine. That night, we were back at the same Crown Jewel restaurant where we’d originally bumped into one another over two and a half months ago. We were set to have dinner with my family. An event I didn’t necessarily look forward to but I needed to get it out of the way in order for Deborah to know what she was getting herself into. My parents, in particular my father, weren’t my favorite people in the world, though I worked with the man almost everyday. Or, truth be told, I was the one mainly running Townsend Industries and had been for the past five years, though to the outside world it looked as if he was still running the show.

  He wasn’t.

  At least, not entirely. He still had enough sway with the board and the upper level management to prevent me from really delving into technology the way I wanted to.

  “Hey, where’d you go? You can’t zone out on me now.”

  I lowered my gaze back to Deborah, who had turned to face me.

  The worry in her eyes unsettled me. I bent low, pressing a kiss to her naturally pink lips. “I’m right here, princess.”

  She pushed out a breath. “Good, because they’re here.”

  I spun around to see my parents following behind the hostess as she walked toward us. I moved to Deborah’s side, my hand resting at the small of her back reassuringly.

  “Your brother’s not with them,” she whispered.

  I frowned. “If there’s one thing you can rely on Jason to be, it’s late.” And a complete let down in all areas of his life. But that's a story for another day.

  “Son,” my father greeted, a grim expression on his face as he huffed, sounding partially out of breath from the short distance of the restaurant’s entrance to the table where we stood.

  I nodded. “Father.”

  “Robert,” my mother greeted more warmly.

  I kissed my mother’s cheek as she moved in for a hug.

  I took a step back, again wrapping my arm around Deborah’s waist again. “Mother, Father, please meet Deborah Tate, my girl—” I frowned, realizing how much I hated the word girlfriend. It sounded so juvenile. Like the word belonged on the lips of a teenage boy introducing his crush for the first time to his parents. That wasn’t this. While the words went unsaid, I was introducing my future to my family.

  “My woman.”

  I ignored the gasps from my mother and Deborah herself. However, I didn’t ignore the dip that occurred in my father’s eyebrows. My gaze narrowed on him as his eyes drifted downward, following the length of my arm as it stretched behind Deborah’s back.

  “Deborah, it’s so nice to meet you,” my mother stated, breaking the brief moment of tension.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Townsend.” Deborah extended her hand.

  My mother, on the other hand, opened both of her arms, pulled Deborah into a hug, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

  Deborah appeared surprised at first but soon leaned into the embrace.

  My mother’s response even surprised me a little but I realized this was the first time, ever, that I was introducing a woman to my family. She realized how serious this was.

  “Deborah,” my father began, a haughty tone in his voice.

  “Thank you for taking the time from your busy schedule to have dinner with us, Mr. Townsend,” Deborah stated.

  He nodded curtly. “Let’s sit, shall we?”

  I moved around the table to hold out Deborah’s chair for her. When I saw my father sit before my mother, I did the same for her. While I had some of my own hang-ups about my mother, she was actually a sweet woman. One who I never fully believed deserved the mistreatment by my father.

  “So, Darlene—”

  “Deborah,” I growled, correcting my father. “Deborah Tate. Get it right.” My voice was stern, and only when Deborah reached over, grabbing my balled up fist to loosen it, did I realize how tense my body had gone.

  My father gave me a dirty look but cleared his throat and began again. “Deborah, do forgive me. I don’t think I have heard your name before. Tell us, what is it that your family does?”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but Deborah was faster than I was.

  “Well, Mr. Townsend, both of my parents are deceased.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” my mother chimed in, reaching her hand across the table to lightly cover Deborah’s for a second before releasing it.

  Deborah smiled at her. “Thank you, Mrs. Townsend.”

  “And what did they do before they died?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Deborah’s hand went to my forearm, staying my anger. “My father was a coal miner and my mother worked a series of jobs in our little town of Beattyville, Kentucky.”

  My father’s forehead wrinkled. “Beattyville. That doesn’t ring a bell. And what is it that you do for a living?”

  “Are you serious with this line of questioning?”

  “Robert, calm down. I’m sure your father’s just trying to get to know me.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” I responded while glaring at my father across the table.

  “Son, am I not supposed to question the first woman you’ve invited to dinner to meet your mother and I? Surely, that makes no sense.”

  “Having a discussion is fine, but interrogating her to discern pedigree and status is not. She’s not a show pony.”

  “Robert, calm down,” my mother added. “We just want to get to know the woman who obviously has so much of your attention.” My mother looked across the table to Deborah. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’ve noticed for some time now that my oldest son seems less stressed and happier. I suspect you have something to do with that.”

  Deborah turned to me and smiled, her hand still in mine. “My coworkers have said the same thing about me. Even with all of the craziness going on at the office, they say I seem more relaxed.”

  My mother lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? And where do you work?” The question was casual enough, but due to my father’s questioning I was already on edge.

  “I work for Glamour Cosmetics.”

  “Oh!” My mother’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “I love Glamour. Their foundation and blushes match my skin perfectly. Do you work directly with developing makeup lines?” my mother inquired, genuinely interested.

  Deborah placed the glass of water she’d just taken a sip of back on the table, shaking her head. “Not directly. I work in the finance department.”

  “Finance?”

  Deborah nodded. “That’s right, Mr. Townsend. I studied mathematics at Stanford.”

  “Is that where you two originally met?” my mother asked, looking between the two of us.

  “Yes, Mother. We were in the same class.”

  “Though our first introduction was a bit unorthodox,” Deborah joked, glancing in my direction.

  It helped to lighten my own mood, and I reached over and pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered, “I’ve more than made up for that little indiscretion.” If we hadn’t been sitting around a dinner table with my parents, I would’ve done a hell of a lot more than whisper in her ear.

  Deborah gave me a sly grin.

  My mother went on to say something about Glamour Cosmetics, and she and Deborah broke off into a conversation. I mostly remained silent, letting the women talk, but I kept an eye on my father. His face read displeasure, which wasn’t uncommon at all. However, the way his eyes kept drifting to Deborah’s clasped hand in mine, spoke to how he really felt about our union.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  Four heads peered up from the table where we’d been eating our meal to find my brother, Jason, staring down at us,
a stupid smirk covering his face.

  I frowned as the odor from whatever cheap alcohol he’d gotten his hands on practically punched me in the nose. And while that was bad enough, it was the sight of the woman in a leather jacket, tight, ripped jeans, and a half shirt who he had his arm wrapped around that really pissed me off.

  “Jason.” My father’s voice was clipped as he glared at my younger brother and the woman he’d shown up with.

  Jason’s smirk widened. “Oh, thank you,” he said to the hostess, who’d brought over two extra chairs for he and his date. He made a big show of making space for himself and the woman at the table. “Here, Lydia. This is Lydia, by the way,” he introduced, glancing around.

  “Hey,” she responded waving at everyone at the table.

  My father huffed. “You’re nearly an hour late and you make this spectacle?” my father stated in a hushed tone across the table toward my brother.

  “What? I apologized. You want me to do so again? Fine. I’m sorry, big brother, for arriving late to your dinner to introduce us to your …” He paused when he finally looked at Deborah. His eyes narrowed. “You look familiar. I’m Jason—”

  “Don’t fucking touch her,” I growled as he reached his arm out for her to shake.

  “Robert—” Deborah began, but I shook my head.

  “No. We have no idea where his hands have been.” I glanced at the woman next to him whose eyes were halfway closed. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  “We’re all just happy you could finally make it, Jason,” my mother spoke up, trying to smooth things over. “Jason’s been doing a lot of traveling,” she said to Deborah, likely because she believed Deborah was the only one who didn’t know the truth.

  For her part, Deborah smiled and nodded.

  What my mother was unaware of was the fact that I’d already told Deborah that Jason had been in yet another rehab facility for the past three months. He’d barely gotten out two weeks ago and here he was, drunk again.

  “I think we need to order a drink to celebrate Robert’s relationship.”

  “Put your fucking hand down,” I ordered to Jason as he lifted his hand to call over a waiter. “You’ve obviously been drinking already. And I don’t give a damn what you do once you leave here, but while you’re at this table you will not be drinking anything except water.”