“Kace, I love you. I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I sat down on the couch and took another bite of my sandwich as I watched him shift his weight back and forth on his feet. Standing there in his shitty boots and a pair of ragged blue jeans, he looked like a homeless man. I loved him with all my heart, but what he had done was insensitive, uncaring, and it hurt. Especially now, when I truly needed him to be here for me, it was painful. A far different pain from being hit, kicked, or slapped – it was an emotional pain from having the man you love not meet an expectation you probably took for granted.
“Let me come hold you,” he whined.
“Oh hell no. No sir, you won’t do any such thing,” I shook my head as I swallowed my food.
“Hold me? I don’t want you to touch me. You’re a stranger to me, Shane. I don’t even know who you are. I would have never guessed. Never. It’s been six weeks, Shane. Six weeks – a month and a half,” I looked up toward the ceiling and counted.
As the anger built up inside of me, I stood, “Forty-two fucking days, Shane. Forty-two nights. You want to know who’s been taking me to my appointments?”
He shrugged his shoulders again and nodded his head sheepishly.
Standing with my sandwich clenched in my hand, I felt as if I was going to start to cry. As I fought back tears, I squeezed my sandwich tighter.
I cleared my throat and raised my voice a little, “Well, I can tell you who it wasn’t. It wasn’t you. Vee. Vee took me sometimes. And Ripp, he drove me. And guess what else he did, Shane? He held me when I cried. And he told me he loved me. And guess what Ripp didn’t do? Ripp didn’t fucking leave me.”
I threw my half-eaten sandwich at him and began to cry.
He dodged the sandwich and started to walk toward me.
“Don’t. I mean it. Right now I don’t want you to touch me,” I cried as I pointed in his direction.
I reached up and wiped the tears from my eyes with the palms of my hands as I tried to regain my composure. “Right now,” I paused.
“Right now, I want you to hurt. I want you to feel the pain you put me through, you insensitive prick. You know what Shane? You taught me how to stand up for myself. And guess what? Guess what? I’m doing just that,” I hesitated, wiped my eyes again, and attempted to swallow.
I pointed toward the door he stood in front of, “Get out of my house, now. Get. Go stay with Ripp. Or Alec. Or in the gym. Or wherever you’ve been for the last six weeks. But tonight? Tonight you’re not welcome here, because this is my house, mine and my baby’s.”
“I just…” he began to say softly.
“Get!” I shouted as I pointed toward the door.
Slowly, he turned and opened the door. After he stepped onto the porch, he turned to face me. His eyes swollen from tears, and his face covered with a look of shame, he gazed into the house blankly – as if in shock.
“Shut the door, I’ll lock it after you’re gone,” I said as I flopped onto the couch.
As the sound of his motorcycle disappeared, I began to sob. If Shane Dekkar was going to be included in my life, he was going to do so because I felt it was something I desperately needed. Something I couldn’t live without.
Not something I wanted.
And as I lie on the couch sobbing, I realized something completely.
I wanted Shane.
SHANE. “Well, I’m just glad you aren’t dead. Hell, nobody heard a damned word for a couple of months. I checked every day for a few weeks – maybe a month or so. Finally gave up hope.”
In many respects, Kelsey had become somewhat of an uncle to me. I looked at Ripp’s father as my father, and Kelsey as more of an uncle. I had grown to admire and respect him, and as I sat on his couch I began to realize just what it was I had put everyone through with my insensitive behavior.
“I’m sorry boss,” I sighed as I raised my hands to my face.
“I suspect you are – and rightfully so. Based on what you said, I can’t tell ya how I would have reacted. I don’t suppose I know for sure, that’s a tough pill to swallow. I’d like to think I wouldn’t have up and left Kace, though. She’s a damn fine woman, kid,” he said as he patted my knee with his hand and stood from the couch.
“You know you’re always welcome here. You need to shower though, you stink to high heaven. Have you got clean clothes on that bike of yours?” he asked.
I stood from the couch and lifted the neck of my tee shirt to my nose, “Sure don’t boss. I have a bag strapped to it, but everything’s dirty.”
“Well, I have sweats and a tee shirt might fit you. Shirt will be a little tight, but it’s clean. Let me get ‘em,” he said as he turned toward the hallway.
He had not yet asked about the fight. Although I imagine it was on the top of the list of things he wished to discuss, he didn’t bring it up. Standing in the house with him now, I felt as if I let him down. Kelsey’s life had been devoted to training boxers. The dream of every trainer is no different than the dream of every boxer – to make it to some form of championship fight. To make it to the Heavyweight Championship of the World is the equivalent of winning the World Series or the Super Bowl. To have something so deeply desired within his reach, and take it from his grasp was inconsiderate of me as well.
I suppose we never truly know how we’ll react to a given situation until it presents itself. In this particular circumstance, I sure seemed to make an absolute ass of myself. From an outsider’s view looking in, I would be perceived as an insensitive, self-centered, selfish, inconsiderate asshole. In recalling where I’d been for the last six weeks and what I’d gone through – without any form of contact with my friends and family – I’d have to say I agree. To describe myself as selfish would be an understatement.
Kelsey walked out into the living room with his arms full of bedding and clothes.
“Making a place to stay in here will be much easier than cleaning out one of the rooms. You can sleep on the couch,” he said as he dumped the contents onto the cushion beside me.
“Here’s pillows, sheets, sweats, a tee shirt, and a pair of boxers. Don’t bitch,” he paused.
“The skivvies are new, not used,” he chuckled as he dropped them beside me.
“Thanks boss,” I said as I looked down at the pile he had dropped.
“And there’s a clean razor in the bathroom on the sink. Shaving cream is under the sink. You need to shave, kid. You look like hell,” he grinned as he rubbed his face with his fingertips.
I tilted my head his direction and attempted to smile. Feeling rather embarrassed regarding everything, I grabbed the sweats and boxer shorts and slowly walked toward the bathroom. A shower should relax me and allow me to think for the rest of the night with a clear mind. The eight hour ride from Anthony to Austin was far from relaxing, and I needed to wash the road tar, bugs, and six weeks of sorrow from my skin.
After shaving and taking a long hot shower, I felt revived and full of guilt. As if the soap and water washed the feelings of sorrow and misery away, I was left standing cleansed and filled with shame. In walking into the living room, I noticed Kelsey had taken the time to convert the couch into his best representation of a bed.
Tired and regretful for everything I had done, I lowered myself to the couch, pressed my head into the pillow, and immediately fell asleep.
The referee held our hands at our sides as the sound from the overhead speaker wailed noise I wasn’t able to comprehend.
I could feel the crowd chanting, but wasn’t able to understand the meaning behind their repeated screams.
The echo from the overhead speaker caused the hair on the back of my neck to rise.
The crowd went silent.
And the winner…by knockout…and still the Heavyweight Champion of the World - Tyson Tick-Tock Brock. Sharply, I felt the referee tug the hand of the man standing beside me into the air. Embarrassed, I turned to face the crowd. One side of the arena was filled with unfamiliar faces – the friends and family of my opponent.
I turned to the other side of the arena and blinked my eyes.
Empty.
Completely empty.
I sat up on the couch and wiped the sweat from my face. The dream seemed very vivid and realistic. Still confused and uncertain of what had just happened, I walked down the hallway toward Kelsey’s bedroom.
“Hey boss,” I said as I knocked on the half-open door.
“Hey boss,” I said as I knocked again.
“Shit, what is it kid?” he said as he sat up in bed.
“Call Brock’s manager. Or whoever. I want that fight. As soon as we can get it organized,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Well, hell. I knew you’d come around, kid. We’ll call them first thing in the morning,” he responded groggily.
“First thing?” I asked.
“Yep. I’ll call them right after breakfast,” he responded.
I nodded my head and smiled without speaking. As I walked back to the couch I considered the fight and what it meant to me. It wasn’t a gold championship belt hanging on my bed post, or the framed cover of a Sports Illustrated magazine on the wall over the fireplace that drove me toward wanting to fight for the championship. Not any longer.
It was meeting the expectation of those who loved me.
As I sat on the edge of the couch, I reached up and clenched my dog tags in my hand and prayed.
It’s me again. I know I come to you often, but I imagine that’s much better than not coming at all.
I need some help.
I’ve abandoned my friends and family and everyone who cares about me because I was scared, selfish, and I had lost faith in everything and everyone; including you.
Help me make decisions based on what’s best for those around me. The rest, I’m sure, will take care of itself.
And as far as our little boy goes, I’m okay with whatever happens. As long as he’s born alive, I’ll be just fine with whoever he is or becomes.
You see, I know now, and I never quite looked at it this way before, but whatever happens, I can live with. I can make sense of it all. You give me a son, and I’ll give him the best father the world has ever known.
Ultimately I know everything will be fine, because…
I paused, sniffed, and tilted my head toward the sky.
You got this.
SHANE. She sat on the couch with a plate of cookies, peeled bananas and strawberries in her lap. I quietly sat across the living room in a chair and did my best to listen and understand what I had put her through. As she poked another strawberry into her already full mouth, she tried to speak.
“That’s fine Shane. I’m glad you found whatever you needed to find to accept everything. Me?” she pointed at her chest.
“I don’t have a choice. He’s inside of me, growing,” she paused and picked up a peeled banana.
“Don’t think for one little minute I’m happy. I’m not. I’ll never forget what you did. I’ll probably never forgive you either. I’ll hold onto it as long as I live. What you did was wrong. The fact that it happened when it happened?” she swallowed the strawberry and took a bite of the banana.
“Makes it worse,” she said as she began to chew.
“I understand,” I sighed.
“No you don’t. Don’t act like you do,” she shook her head and took another bite of the banana, finishing it completely.
“I love you, and I know you love me, but I won’t let this go. I’m not going to hold it over your head, but I won’t forget it either. After today, we’ll move on. You already promised, but I want you to know something. If you ever leave me again, I’ll divorce you. I will. And it won’t end there,” she paused and picked up a cookie.
“I already talked to him, and he said he’d do it. I’m gonna give Ripp a hammer and have him come find you. Do you hear me?” she said as she waved her cookie filled hand my direction.
I nodded my head, “Yes ma’am.”
“I will,” she assured me,
“I believe you,” I said.
“And he will,” she nodded.
“And I believe that too. He already told me,” I sighed.
“I was scared too, Shane. But running doesn’t fix anything. Heck, I’m still scared. I think about what might happen every day. But I can’t change it. You know, worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet is like building a dam for a river that doesn’t exist. It’s kind of dumb,” she shook her head for a short second and looked down at her cookie.
“Want a cookie?” she asked.
I shook my head and smiled.
“I can’t eat these, the thought is making me sick,” she said as she dropped the cookie onto the plate.
She stood and rubbed her stomach lightly and walked toward the kitchen with the plate of cookies. I watched as she reached up toward the basket of fruit and pulled another banana from the stack of fresh fruit inside. While she peeled it, she smiled.
“I love bananas now, it’s weird. I can’t eat enough of them. You wouldn’t know anything about that though. Because you weren’t here when I started liking them so much,” she said as she tossed the peel into the trash.
“Kace,” I said softly, attempting to apologize again.
“I know you are. Leave me alone, Shane. I’m enjoying this,” she said as she sat on the couch and took a bite of the banana.
“So,” she said as chewed what was in her mouth.
After she swallowed, she waved the remaining piece of banana toward me, “You going with me today?”
I shrugged my shoulders, not sure of what she had planned, “Sure.”
“Okay, we’re going shopping for baby stuff. More baby stuff. And we’re taking the Mini. And I’m driving. You know why?’ she asked as she stuffed the remaining banana into her mouth.
I waited for her to swallow, and I shrugged my shoulders. Without a doubt this would be some form of comeback for what I had done to her. Everything she had said so far was, and this shouldn’t be any different.
“Why?” I said, smiling.
“Because I don’t need you to drive me. I’m fine driving myself, unless it’s to the doctor. I don’t like going there alone. But anywhere else, I’m fine. So, we’re going shopping, I’m driving, and we’re spending your money,” she stood from the couch and rubbed her stomach.
“Oh my God, come here, he’s doing it,” she squealed, waving her arms frantically.
I jumped from the chair and stumbled across the room. As I got within arm’s reach of Kace, she quickly grasped my wrist and pressed my palm to the side of her stomach. As my hand flattened against her shirt, I felt a rise in her skin and against my hand. Shocked, I looked up into her eyes, and then down at her stomach. For a long second, the movement remained, and then slowly moved a few more inches and disappeared.
I stared into her eyes and smiled, my hand still resting against her stomach.
He wiggles like that a lot. They call it kicking. The baby’s kicking, Shane. But you wouldn’t know anything about that,” she pulled my hand from her stomach and tossed it to the side comically.
“You know why?”
Still amazed at what I had felt, I smiled and stared, not really caring what she said. Right now, she could say anything and it wouldn’t matter. My little boy – our little boy – was alive inside of her, and aching to be released. He was capable of moving, and doing it with such force that it stretched her skin into my palm.
As I stood and stared I realized that everything was going to be just fine. We had each other, and needed nothing more. Together, we could conquer whatever obstacles God placed before us. Each standing alone, we represented only half of the whole created when together.
A single shoe.
A one wheeled bicycle.
I opened my arms and waited.
As she fell against me and wrapped her arms around me, she pressed her head into my chest and sighed.
“I do Kace,” I breathed.
She raised her hand to my mouth and pressed her index finger agai
nst my lip, “Shhh. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
As I held her tightly I felt something against my stomach, and immediately assumed it was her hand. As the feeling continued, I looked down and realized both of her hands were behind me, holding me no differently than I was holding her. Once again, our little miracle was kicking. Slowly, I pulled my chest away from her, and pressed my stomach tighter to hers. As the wiggling inside of her continued, I stared down into her eyes and smiled without speaking a word.
Because there were no words to accurately describe it.
Quietly, she stared up into my eyes.
And we shared what we had developed together.
A living miracle.
SHANE. Pregnant or not, Kace remained the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. As time passed, I felt more and more like a terrible husband for having left her the way I did. Now seven and a half months along in her pregnancy, she appeared to be cuter than ever. Watching her walk made me smile with pride, and seeing the changes in her personality as the pregnancy matured caused me to fall even further in love with her with any and everything she did or said. If she was half as good of a mother as she was a wife, this child would be blessed in yet one more way.
“That has to be the best spaghetti I have ever eaten, babe. What was different?” I asked as I pushed my plate aside.
“Same as always, Shane. I always make it the same, and you always love it,” she grinned.
“Well, mark it down as one of my favorites. No, mark it down as my absolute favorite,” I sighed as I leaned into the back of my chair.
“I did a long time ago, goof ball,” she said as she picked up the plates from the table.
“Let me get that for you, babe,” I said as I leaned forward.
Unbroken (Fighter Erotic Romance #4) Page 3