by Izzy Sweet
“Ewwww, get a room,” Casey says, and my entire body goes cold like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over me.
Reality comes rushing back in like a tidal wave and embarrassment sinks its claws in deep.
Oh god, what the fuck was I doing?
Giving into my first instinct, I shove Emmett away.
He stumbles back, confused, his eyes still hooded and glazed.
Glancing between Emmett’s confused face and Casey’s disgusted one, I’ve never felt more ashamed.
I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never acted in such a way before.
Not with anyone else…
Shaking his head and straightening, Emmett shoots Casey an irritated look then focuses his attention back on me.
“Bree, ignore him,” he says, and reaches his hand out to me. “It’s okay.”
I take one look down at his hand, at what he’s offering, and do the only thing I know how to do.
I flee.
“Bree!” Emmett calls out as I take off running.
Running as if my life depends on it, I pray that he doesn’t chase after me.
By the time I reach the front desk, I’ve run myself so hard that when I stop I’m gasping.
A quick glance behind me shows me though that Emmett didn’t follow me. Grabbing up my purse, I fling it over my shoulder and head for the front door, only to be stopped by Chase.
“Yo, where you going in such a hurry?” Chase asks as he steps into my path.
Oh shit, if Emmett comes, Chase might find out what we did…
I can literally feel myself going white as I pant out, “I feel sick. I need to go home.”
Thank god Chase doesn’t question me.
He simply nods his head, immediately accepting the excuse. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
I swallow back a sigh of relief and follow after him, all the while afraid Emmett might pop up behind me at any second.
When we reach my car and there’s still no sign of Emmett, I count my lucky stars and say a quick goodbye to Chase.
He stands in the parking lot as I pull out, determined to watch my car until I can take my left turn onto the main street.
Once the light turns green, I glance into my rearview mirror and lift my hand, meaning to wave goodbye to Chase, but catch sight a looming figure standing in front of the main doors.
Emmett is standing there, watching me with a resigned look on his face.
Dropping my hand, I hit the gas a little harder than I mean to and squeal out into the street.
Forcing myself to drive only ten over the speed limit, I crank my radio up and fill my car with music so loud it’s impossible to think.
By the time I pull up in front of my stepfather’s house, my head is splitting and my ears are ringing.
In my rush to get inside the house and safely up to my room, I almost forget my purse twice. Once I have my car locked up, I dash up the front steps, taking them two at time.
I make it through the front door and all the way up to the base of the staircase before my mom pops out of the dining room with a smile on her face.
“Hey honey,” she says cheerfully. “How was your first day?”
Chapter Nine
Emmett
Sometimes the things we want most in the world are the things that will destroy us.
I wanted to be the champ. I wanted the accolades, the lights, and the glamor. I’ve always had the chip on my shoulder that I needed to prove something to the world and my shit parents.
Maybe that’s why I feel this huge fucking crushing weight on my chest when I watch Bree drive away from the gym.
I really do believe one damaged soul can recognize another. It’s something in the eyes and the way we carry ourselves. The way we carefully guard our words and actions.
I want to be her champion. I want to be her fucking rock. And I know without a doubt that the douche who pushed my fucking girl to the ground was an ex who hasn’t gotten the memo.
He’ll get it, and it’s going to be one he’ll never fucking forget.
Screaming the dirtiest words I know in my head isn’t going to do anything to fix this shit, though. I feel like a fucking ass for letting her go, for letting us get separated. Not that I blame Casey for it. Little dude was right, we needed a room right then.
The way she was moving against me…
Shit.
I’ve got her phone number though, and I’ve got her location too. I’m probably a dick for snooping on her, but my ass isn’t stupid enough or drunk enough to think for a second that her ex is going to let her go easy.
He’s hurt her at least once, and I’m betting he’ll try that shit again.
That fucking kiss, though. Fucking man alive, it shot adrenaline straight to my heart. It took me to eleven out of ten. Her lips, her taste, just her fucking presence in that kiss...
She didn’t kiss me with some fucking shy little peck.
Hell no, she put her soul into it.
And the way she pressed her body right back against mine, clinging to me in desperate need of something I barely understand…
It was like offering a life raft to a drowning man.
Fuck, my life is spiraling out of any semblance of control. Casey, Bree, me. Three huge new developments. Myself, being probably the biggest.
I can feel the cravings, the yearnings, and delusions starting. The deep, dark part of me wants to go back into a bottle. It would sure as fuck be easier to let myself slip back into that eventual suicide of the mind and body
Fuck the world.
Fuck the kid.
And fuck any chance at romance.
But there’s another part of me that’s slowly waking back up and calling that dark part of me a little bitch. It’s telling me I need to do better. I need to stop being a fucking pussy. That I’m not finished, and I’m not ready to tap the fuck out yet.
I’ll be that guardian for Casey.
I’ll be the champion Bree needs.
But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit the darker part of my soul doesn’t have a stronger grip on me right now.
Shaking my head, I retrace my steps back to Casey. We need to pack it up and get out of here. Shit’s going to be rough for us as we figure out how to get past Tommy’s ghost and my failings as a decent human being. Maybe it’s not the ghost we need to get past, but maybe it’s the one we have to come to terms with.
“You know you’ll be taking a couple of physicals and drug tests over the next couple of months. Probably the sooner the better,” a voice says from behind me.
Dammit. Yet another person I know that has seen the shit side of me.
Turning around, I slow my walk to a stop. “Hey Avery, I wasn’t…”
“Chase has his own big brother hang-ups that he has to deal with. Big muscles and big brains don’t always agree with each other,” she says with a laugh before holding up a hand to stop my protesting. “I’m more of a Friar Lawrence type of person, not the overbearing parents and cousins…”
What the fuck? Was that a Romeo and Juliet reference?
“Um…” is about the only word I can get out of my mouth.
“Don’t worry. Mum’s the word on you two needing to get a room,” she says with an exaggerated wink.
Ah, shit.
“Avery…” I say, and I feel this need to protect what has just started between Bree and me.
My hackles are raising at just the thought of us having any sort of interference.
I’m not ashamed though of what she saw or Casey. It wasn’t what I would have liked to do in public, but it is what it is. I’ve never felt anything like that before. Ever.
Fuck, I’ve never straight up practically made love to a woman through just one kiss. Especially on the first day we meet. That’s never fucking happened to me before.
That was some serious me, Tarzan, you, Jane, let’s go back to the cave and mate for life shit right there.
Avery takes my arm and pulls me slowly to the sid
e of the gym. “Relax, Emmett. I just want to honestly talk to you about Casey before you get in too far over your head.”
From where she has us angled, I can see Casey shouting encouragement to one of the fighters we were tasked with looking over. He’s so in the element surrounding us, it’s almost easy to forget all that’s been going on with him.
Easy to forget the gigantic storm cloud that’s been circling over his head.
“He’s… He’s going to need a lot of emotional stability. He’s going to need a person in his life who can take the abuse he might give. He needs someone who’s going to be there and help him transition from this broken little boy into a man,” she says quietly.
My first gut reaction is to tear her apart, to ask her how the fuck can she call Casey broken.
But I don’t because I know he is, just like me. But he’s worse because I carelessly left him broken. I allowed this to become the dark stain on his soul that it is.
“I’m going to try to do every—” I manage to say before she cuts me off.
“I could use a Yoda metaphor like I do with the kids who come here needing help, but honestly… Don’t fucking just try Emmett. Trying won’t help him grow and learn to be the person he needs to become,” she says quietly, but with more vehemence than I’ve ever seen her have before.
“I know, he’s got the fucking weight of the world on his shoulders,” I say, and the reality is maybe setting in.
I’m going to be taking care of a child that’s not my own, that has been royally fucked over with life, and he’s had no support from one of the most important people in his life.
“Take some of that load, show him he’s not alone in his guilt for being left alive while the one parent who gave a damn in his life is now gone.”
Nodding my head, I really don’t have any words for what’s going on in my thoughts. She’s right on all counts, and I need to step the fuck up.
“Good. Now back to the other part, you’re going to be doing drug tests and physicals for the fight board. Your body from here on out belongs to the gym,” she says with a grin.
“What do you mean?” I ask, and I can feel that little part of my brain again screaming at me that something is about to fuck my world over even more. “The fight board doesn’t give two shits about me raising a kid.”
Avery motions to my pocket. “No, but your contract does. You might want to check your phone when you get a chance. I’m pretty sure it’s about to explode.”
“What the fuck?” I ask as I pull it out.
A sickening urge to vomit hits me as I open up my phone. I always keep my phone on do not disturb when I’m at the gym. Even now I have to turn on notifications. It’s a holdover from when I was in training. It kept all the distractions at bay.
But now that the notifications are turned on, my phone starts lighting up like fucking Christmas. Dings and pings are going off from missed calls and texts that aren’t in my contacts. My email app shows that I have over a hundred unread emails. The text app has just as many, if not more.
What the fuck?
“Dale has contacted the company and he’s put in your official request for a rematch. He’s also let it slip to a couple of key news outlets,” Avery says with a wide grin.
“What the fuck?!” I shout at her.
They have no fucking right to do something like that. He’s not even my official contact for the company. I can feel the heat of my anger rising up my chest and flooding my face with pure rage.
“You guys can’t fucking do that!” I all but yell, and remember too late where the fuck I am.
“We can’t do what?” Chase asks with a pissed off look on his face as he marches over to where Avery and me are talking.
“Fuck you too, fucking Frankenstein’s creation asshole,” I spit out at him. “You guys don’t have the right to act like my manager. That’s Tommy’s…”
Shrugging his shoulders, Chase moves to stand next to Avery. “We did and you will be fighting. Dale’s already got the schedule for you. Avery has her classes for Casey scheduled for the times you’ll be here, as well. So it’s going to be a family affair thing.”
“I… shit,” I mutter. So they’ll be using Casey to keep me in line. “What’s the timeline? I don’t think I’ll be ready for a fight in the contract’s allotted time frame.”
“Two months,” Dale says from behind me.
I’m going to fucking puke, I can feel it right now. Bile is rising up my throat. Holy fuck. Two fucking months. There’s no way. I haven’t prepared or trained in six months. I’ll be fucking killed out there in the ring.
Casey will lose two people if I agree to the fight.
“There’s no fucking way… I mean… I…”
Fuck me.
Dale claps me on the shoulder from behind. “Sink or swim.”
“So, tomorrow your system should be clear enough to do the first preliminary drug tests,” Avery says. “Unless there’s something besides booze in your system.”
Fuck, I almost wish there was. That would be an easy way to get this shitshow of a circus to come to a grinding halt. “No, just alcohol.”
“You sure?” Chase asks as he peers into my eyes.
“Yeah, just the alcohol,” I say.
“Any pain meds?” Dale asks.
“Nah, I took the pain meds from the surgery, but then self-medicated with alcohol.”
“When was the last pain med you took? Ibuprofen, Tylenol, Aleve?” Chase asks.
“Two weeks after the surgery,” I say.
Looking to Dale, Chase says, “Notify the board about that. Give ‘em the down and dirty facts. No sense in hiding anything. This way they don’t have any surprises. They’ll contact the USADA, and we need to as well to make sure there’s not any complications.”
“You’ll have to get the medical records from the surgery. They should have been sent over, but we need to make sure we have copies. If we need to explain why something is in his system, that’ll cover it all, I think,” Dale says.
It’s like I’m a fucking child all over again. They’re talking about me as if I don’t even have a choice in all this shit.
“Do I get a say in any of this?” I ask.
Knowing that they’re doing something for my benefit like this is infuriating and comforting, I guess. But fuck, I’d really like at least some input.
“Not really. Starting tomorrow, your ass is mine,” Dale says before walking away to ruin someone else’s life.
“Go get Casey home, fed, and settled. You guys have a lot on your plates, and tomorrow both of your worlds start anew,” Avery says as she flashes a smile at me before walking away.
Chase smirks at me before he walks away too. “I don’t let runts date my sister.”
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” I mutter.
Walking into the house with Casey in tow is an odd feeling. Besides the guys today, it’s been a long time since anyone’s actually been here. So long that I immediately feel that awkward shame people get when someone sees their dirty home. It’s not like I’ve had any real reason to take care of the place, but I still feel the embarrassment of having a kid see I can’t keep my shit together.
Casey wrinkles his nose. “Grandma would kill me if I ever left my room like this.”
He’s got a point. Now that I’ve been away from the place for more than a couple of minutes, I can smell the copious amounts of alcohol and grime that have taken over. This place smells like a fucking dump, and my stomach starts churning at the thought of all the alcohol.
“Kinda smells like the arena after a fight,” he continues as he walks around the living room. “Looks like it too.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I grumble as I move past him, motioning for him to follow me. “Let’s get your room set up, then we’ll order some food. I need to take out the trash too, I guess.”
Mercifully one of the three spare bedrooms in the house is clean and relatively empty except for a couple of old boxes of workout gear.
Leading him into it, I turn on the lights and show him the private bathroom.
“All yours… Beast,” I say while opening up my arms and spinning around the room.
I’m pretty proud that this room is setup nice enough that it’s livable. It’s got a bed, a couple of dressers, a big tv, and even the bathroom is stocked up on the necessities.
Back before my shoulder got wrecked and everything turned to shit, my house was pretty fucking nice. I didn’t subscribe to the whole bachelor pad thought of mind. I kept my shit clean and looking good. I wanted to make it as much of a real home as I could.
Lots of things were different back then. I had a stable home here. Tommy and Casey would come by all the time and stay the night when it got too late. It was like our own little family.
Tommy’s mom even helped me decorate the rooms.
I wanted to make it as real as I could. I wanted the warmth that her home always had, wanted it to be the exact opposite of what I lived through with my real family. No more eviction notices, drugs laying out in the open, empty refrigerators and cabinets. Fucking hell, I wouldn’t have to put up with passed out strangers invading my space ever again.
Casey drags his bags up onto the bed and starts to pull his clothes out. “Can I bring my gaming systems over?”
“I don’t see why not,” I say as I pick up a couple of piles and help him with opening up the dresser drawers.
“Grandma said this was a working summer break, so I wasn’t sure I’d be allowed.”
That throws me a little.
“Huh? How long has this been in the works?”
“Since right before school let out, I guess,” he says.
I don’t even know how long ago that was. If I’m being honest, I don’t have a firm grasp on where exactly I’m at on the calendar.
“How long ago was that exactly?” I ask and put another stack of shirts in the dresser.
“What do you mean?”
“Like… Shit. When was that?” I ask and feel like an even bigger asshole lush.
“Grandma and Avery started talking about you three weeks ago. Two weeks before I got out,” he says like I’m an idiot.