Fighting Love: the complete series

by Nikki Ash

  The line goes silent and I pull up my recent calls list and click on the number she called from to call her back. It rings several times and then a man answers.

  “Hello? My mom called from this number?”

  “Sorry, this is a public phone.” Shit, they still have those?

  “Is there a woman in the area?”

  “Nope. There’s no woman around here.”

  “Okay, thank you.” I hang up, and take several calming breaths to stop myself from punching something. I know my mom is hurting. I could hear it in her voice. I imagine she’s too old now to have sex with guys for money, but then again, the guys she was with would probably screw anything with a hole. I have no idea where she’s living or how she’s surviving, and instead of letting me in, trusting me to help her, she would rather suffer. She resents me so damn much, she would rather live in and out of jail than allow me to take care of her.

  I walk through the door, dirty and smelling of clay from the baseball field. The house is dark and silent. I drop my bag to the ground by the door and make my way down the hall. I stop by Alec’s room and peek in to find him fast asleep. When I get to our bedroom, Mila is already in bed. Her breathing is even, but I know she’s not asleep because she’s not snoring. Adorable fucking woman swears she doesn’t snore but she does, and I love it. It reminds me she’s sleeping next to me every night.

  I jump in the shower and when I come out, I find her in the same position she was in when I first walked in—and still not snoring. I plug my phone in to charge and lie down on my side of the bed. I wait a few seconds just to make sure she’s definitely not snoring, and when I don’t hear anything, I bring my arm around her waist and pull her into me, rolling her over in the process so she’s forced to face me.

  “Mason! What’re you doing?” Mila shrieks. “I was sleeping!”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “Yes, I was.” She glares.

  “Nope, and even if you were, I still would’ve woken you up,” I point out, and Mila huffs. “We agreed. No going to bed angry.”

  “Whatever,” she murmurs, and I pull her closer.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I don’t want anything from you, especially your money.” Her words are watery and I can tell she’s doing her best to keep her emotions in check. “I already went to the bank and transferred it all to you.” Tears spill over and flow down her face. She rolls away from me and off the bed, hightailing it to the bathroom and closing the door before I can even get a word in.

  I follow after her and knock on the door. “Mila, come out please. I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re still married and our vows said we don’t go to bed angry, so I’m not going to bed until we discuss this.” When she doesn’t respond, I slide down the door, the back of my head hitting the wood.

  “Mila, you promised to lead. I need you to talk to me, please,” I beg, needing some guidance here. I have no clue what happened, and my emotions are already all over the damn place from hearing from my mom. I’m not sure I can handle letting down two women in one day.

  As I sit on the other side of the door, I hear her soft sobs and they remind me of my mom. All the times our electric would get shut off and she wouldn’t have the money to pay it. She didn’t know I could hear her crying, but I did. Or after she would get home from work and I would hear her in the shower crying for God knows how long. Sometimes all it would take was me doing or saying the wrong thing. She would bawl her eyes out until she passed out in bed. Like the naïve child I was, I would constantly ask her what she needed, what I could do to make it better, and she would tell me there was nothing I could do. I always felt so helpless. I was hoping so fucking badly when I heard her voice today she was going to let me help her. Of course she didn’t.

  “Mila, please, baby,” I plead. “Talk to me.” The lock on the door clicks and it opens, the hard wood leaving my back. I get up off the ground and she’s standing there, looking sad with her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

  “I was paying the bills and saw way too many digits in my bank account.”

  “That’s the payment from People Magazine.”

  “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for each of us?”

  “No, two hundred and fifty total. I’m not that popular.” I chuckle. “I don’t need that money. I had them give it all to you.”

  “Mason.” She sighs. “I don’t want—” I cover her lips with my fingers before she can finish her sentence.

  “That’s all you were upset about? Having too much money in your account?”

  “That’s a lot of money, Mason! I thought maybe you were paying me off...”

  “Paying you off?” I ask, confused as fuck.

  “You know… like you were going to divorce me.”

  I pull her over to the edge of the bed and into my lap, then I kiss her hard. “That’s not happening. That money is from the interview, and tomorrow morning it will be back in your account.”

  “Minus the money for the car.”

  “The car was your wedding gift.”

  “Ugh! I would argue but I know you aren’t going to let me win,” she says, giving in.

  “Damn right.” I pull her face down to kiss her again. “And now that we’ve gotten the not going to bed angry vow covered, let’s move on to our other vows…” I waggle my eyebrows. “Like the out of this world sex.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mila

  “Run! Run! Run!” Alec is screaming next to me at Mason as he rounds second base then third. “Go home!” he screams, jumping up and down as Mason runs toward home plate. Their team made it to the playoffs and then to the championship, and if Mason gets this homerun, they will be the champions. The player in the outfield throws the ball to the catcher, and as Mason slides into home, hands first, his helmet flies off his head as the catcher leans down to tag him. Their heads collide—the catcher’s hard helmet to Mason’s helmetless head—and the crowd gasps at the loud cracking sound they make.

  “Oh, shit!” Alec yells. I should probably scold him for cursing, but I’m too busy running toward the field to see if Mason is okay. He’s lying on his back, his eyes closed.

  “Call 911!” someone shouts. Tristan and several of the guys are kneeling around Mason’s unconscious body. I drop to the ground beside him and fall into nurse mode, my fingers checking for his pulse. Then I open his mouth to make sure his airway is open and he’s breathing.

  “Should we try to sit him up?” Gavin asks.

  “No, he could be injured.” My fingers glide down the side of Mason’s face. “Mason, please wake up,” I beg. His eyelids flutter slightly. “Mason,” I say again. “Wake up.”

  The sound of the ambulance fills the air, and a minute later, two EMTs are running over to us with a stretcher. I explain to them what happened, then they carefully put a neck brace on Mason and turn him over enough to get a sheet under him. Once they have him ready, they transfer him onto the stretcher. As they’re locking him in, Mason’s eyes groggily open. He tries to sit up, but the EMT tells him what happened and to remain still. He could have a neck injury. A spinal injury. He could have a concussion. Brain damage. He could be paralyzed. My mind ticks down every possibility as I follow them to the ambulance.

  Once they have him loaded, they let us know which hospital they’re taking him to. Charlie offers to take the kids home, but Alec throws a fit. “I’m not going home! I need to go to Mason. Mom, please.”

  “I’ll bring Alec,” Gavin offers, “that way if he needs to wait in the waiting room, I can sit with him.”

  “Thank you.” I’m already heading to my vehicle when Tristan grabs my hand.

  “Leave your car here and I’ll drive you. You’re shaking.” He lifts my hand up and sure enough, I’m trembling like crazy.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  We arrive at the hospital and go straight to the front desk to get any information available. “I’m Mila Street, Mason’s wife.”

  The woman
at the front desk types something in on the computer. “It shows here you are Mason Street’s emergency contact and next of kin. Can you come with me to fill out a couple forms while he’s being checked out?”

  I answer as many questions about Mason as I can, and what I can’t, I call Tristan over to see if he knows. Once she thanks us and lets us know as soon as he’s allowed to have visitors, she’ll call us, we join Gavin and Alec in the waiting room.

  “Do you know when Mason added me to his forms?” I ask Tristan.

  “Probably this week. He had to update everything for the upcoming fight.” This information has me stunned. So many times I’ve questioned if he really is all in, especially when that money ended up in my bank account, but him adding me as his emergency contact and next of kin tells me that he really is in this for the long haul.

  What feels like ten hours later—but is really only an hour—we’re taken back to Mason’s room. Gavin stays in the waiting room, but Alec comes with Tristan and me. Mason’s lying in a hospital bed, wires hooked up to him, and his eyes are closed. There’s a nurse standing next to his bed, writing his numbers down.

  “Mason,” I cry out. He opens his eyes and looks at me, and I breathe a small sigh of relief. “What did the doctor say?”

  “They brought me back for a CT scan and did a concussion examination. The doctor also checked me for any spinal injuries. I’m fine. Probably have a concussion, so I’m stuck here for a few hours. My head is pounding and hurts like a bitch,” he complains. When he looks over and sees Alec standing there, he says, “I mean it hurts really freaking bad.”

  “Do you need more pain medication?” the nurse asks him.

  “Yes,” he whines, “I feel like death.” I cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing because an injured Mason is such a baby.

  Relieved he’s okay, I take a play from his book. “You should be used to the pain…you’re a fighter. Don’t you get hurt all the time?”

  Mason scoffs. “No, that would be the other guy. I always win.” Tristan cackles and Alec fist bumps him.

  “Yeah, Mom, Mason doesn’t get hurt,” Alec adds agreeing with Mason. “He’s too tough.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay, man,” Tristan says. “I’m going to head outside to call Charlie. You know how she is about hospitals. She went home with the girls to wait and see if she should come up.”

  After hanging out with Mason for a little bit, I insist Alec goes home with his dad. He’s not thrilled, but we aren’t sure how long it will be before they release Mason. Tristan hangs around since he’s the only one out of the three of us with a vehicle. A few hours later, the doctor prescribes some pain meds for Mason and has the nurse print out his discharge papers. With instructions to get some rest and to return if he experiences any symptoms such as dizziness, fatigue, vomiting, nausea, or ringing in his ears, we leave the hospital. Tristan drops us off at my vehicle and we agree to pick up Mason’s car tomorrow. When we get home, he holds me close and I thank God he’s okay and healthy. I’ve already lost both my parents. I don’t know what I would do if I lost Mason too.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Mila

  “Have a seat, Mila.” Dr. Burrows stands from behind her desk and gestures toward the chair on the other side. “I’m sure you’ve heard that Dr. Banks has decided to take an early retirement. Because we aren’t in a position to hire anyone new, unfortunately we don’t have a choice but to let you go.”

  I knew when I was hired there was a ninety day trial period, but I didn’t actually think I would be let go. Doing the math in my head, I figure out I’m only a couple days away from the ninety-day mark. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Oh no. You are a wonderful nurse, and if it were up to me, I would keep you on. The problem is that the other nurses have been here longer and you’re still in your ninety days. I’m so sorry.” She hands me a sheet of paper. “I wrote a letter of reference for you, and please, if you need to use me when filling out any applications, do so.”

  She stands and sticks her hand out to shake mine. I shake hers as well, silently cursing her and this practice, but on the outside smiling because I will need to use her as a reference when I apply for other jobs.

  Since Alec is with his dad for the night, I head straight to the hospital to speak to the Human Resource department hoping they’ll have something open. Becky, the HR manager, tells me they’ve already found my replacement but has me fill out a new application to keep on file in case there’s an opening in the future.

  Feeling defeated, I head home. I’ll have to hit the pavement tomorrow in search of a new job. I have the money from the magazine shoot, but I used the majority of it to finally pay off my student loans, credit cards, and my mortgage. I was hoping to put some away for Alec’s college. Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t have used that money to try to get ahead. Now I’m debt free but without an income.

  When I step into the house, I hear Mason talking to someone. His voice is angry and feral, the opposite of his usual patient and easy going voice. I’ve never heard him speak like this, and it kind of scares me.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Mason

  My mom never did call back that day, or the day after, or the day after that. But you know who finally did call me? My attorney, to let me know my mother had contacted him and asked if he could get her pimp out of jail. Apparently he was arrested for possession with intent to sell and is currently sitting in a holding cell trying to find representation. And instead of calling me so I could help her get away, she called my fucking attorney.

  “She said she hates to ask but you’re her last resort,” my attorney said, repeating her words back to me.

  I’m her last resort…She wants me to use my money, not to help her, but to help the man who cooked his crack in our basement and finds guys for her to fuck. She won’t talk to me, won’t let me help her or take care of her, but she wants me to help him.

  I hang up with my attorney after telling him I need to think about this. I consider calling Mila, but then remember she’s at work. So instead I call Tristan. As the phone rings, I realize my hands are shaking. I’m so fucking pissed…so fucking hurt. I’ve spent years wishing my mom would come to me and when she finally does, it’s to help him.

  Tristan answers the phone, and for the first time in my life, I lose it. I tell him about my dad and my mom and her pimp. I yell and scream and curse the goddamned world to hell. My words aren’t directed at him and he knows this. He just listens quietly while I let it all out. I yell about her not wanting my help, about her not trusting me. I scream and curse, and when I stop talking, Tristan asks, “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m not giving her a goddamned dime of my hard-earned money. Fuck this, and fuck her. She’s not getting shit.”

  “Mason?” I spin around and see Mila standing in the doorway looking nervous. This is exactly why I called Tristan. I don’t want to bother Mila with my bullshit. Take my anger out on her.

  “Hey Tristan, Mila just got home. Let me call you back.” Tristan tells me to call him any time before we say goodbye.

  “Where’s Alec?” I ask once I’ve hung up the phone, ignoring her silent question.

  “With his dad for the weekend. Is everything okay?” She tries to steer the conversation back to me, but I’m not ready to discuss this rationally. It all feels too raw.

  “Can you do me a favor and put the conversation about the phone call you overheard on hold? It was regarding my mom and I just… I need to calm down before I discuss it. Why don’t we go away? You and me. Two nights on the beach. Your birthday is next week. We can celebrate early.”

  She smiles softly. “That sounds nice.” I sigh in relief that she let me get away with not discussing my mom, and grabbing my laptop from the end table, find us a hotel and book it.

  “Let’s pack and head out. We can check in as soon as we get there.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Mila

  Mason asked me to gi
ve him some time before we discuss what happened with his mom, and I agreed. Mostly because I was in shock over the one-sided conversation I heard. He was so upset about her asking for money I was frozen in fear over telling him I lost my job. Not that it’s the same thing, but I didn’t want to add to his frustration. The last thing he needed in that moment was me telling him I’m no longer employed, and him feeling like he needs to take care of me, which isn’t the case. Instead, I’m hoping after our weekend away, I’ll find a new job, and we can celebrate instead of stressing over me losing this one.

  A couple hours later, we pull up to Hotel Casa Del Mar. It was once an exquisite private beach club designed to reflect on the Italian Renaissance in the early 1920s. It’s since then been restored and turned into a luxury hotel. I’ve seen it many times when visiting Santa Monica beach, but I’ve never stayed here.

  After checking in, we head up to our suite, which is beyond gorgeous. The first room I check out is our bedroom. A huge handcrafted king-size bed takes over the room. My hand runs along the comforter and you can tell it’s of the highest thread count. I step into the bathroom and notice striking marble covering the spacious area. There’s a large spa tub and a separate shower. I walk out of the bathroom, back through our bedroom, and into the living room. On the far side is a large window giving us the most amazing view of the Pacific ocean. It almost looks like a picture, it’s so perfect. When I press my forehead against the window and strain my neck to the right, I can see the Santa Monica pier and the multi-colored Ferris wheel.

  “Do you like it?” Mason asks, coming up behind me. I turn around, my back pressing up against the warm glass, and look around him. The living room isn’t like a traditional hotel room, instead it reflects its original European style. All the dark wood furniture appears to be hand crafted just like our bed. The sofas and loveseats are plush with floral patterns accented with gold tones.