by Huss, JA
Because this is day one.
EPILOGUE - CORT
ONE YEAR LATER
The mood after Paulo’s first professional fight is celebratory.
Sergey paved the way for Lilith. Lilith paved the way for Ivano and Kioshi. And they paved the way for Paulo.
This might be Paulo’s first official win as far as the wider world is concerned, but they don’t care.
They flock to him, just like they flocked to all the others. They are trying to write offers as they hand him drinks. They are begging him for attention.
His eyes find mine from across the room and I hear all the words he’s not saying. Thank you. I owe you. I love you.
And I raise my glass to him and silently say it all back.
He nods, then starts paying attention to reps from the UFC and Jungle Fight as they have a bidding war, complete with lawyers furiously amending contracts on their tablets as the discussion progresses, at the after-party.
Anya slides up and hooks her arm in mine, leaning into me a little.
“Tired?”
She doesn’t say anything, but I feel her shake her head. She’s still not much of a talker, even when we’re at home. But when we’re out, she almost always prefers to speak with her eyes.
“Good. Because we’ve got big plans tonight.”
She pulls back a little, smiling. “What plans?”
“You’ll find out.”
She smacks me playfully and then says, “Get me a drink, will you? I’m gonna go congratulate Maart.”
I lean down and kiss her, enjoying the way she kisses me back. Then she turns and walks off and I wait, and watch her ass, as she makes her way across the room, parting throngs of people as she approaches, and finally lands in front of Maart.
She is gorgeous tonight.
Her blonde hair is sleek and straight. Her face has a little bit of make-up on it. And her strapless gown is the same shade of blue as her eyes.
Maart takes her hand. Kisses her lips. Plays with her hair. Smiles.
He and I are still close. We talk nearly every day and every few months we do more than that. But Maart has his gym in Rio and I have my camp out in the jungle, and, well… that’s just how shit shakes out when you grow up.
We haven’t grown apart, not really. We’re still walking the same road, but one of us is slightly off the beaten path.
He likes the attention. He likes the lights, and the parties, and the hectic pace of Rio. And I still dream about my life on the Rock.
“Now that’s a story.”
I turn at the remark and find a woman staring back at me. Slightly familiar, but only slightly.
She shakes her head. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”
“I’m sorry, I—” But then I do recognize her. The reporter from Ring of Fire. She still looks her age, but she’s wearing a dark blue gown and a jacket, not even a hint of cleavage. And her makeup is subtle, like her updo hair. She has an air of sleek sophistication. “Huh. I can honestly say you were the last person I ever expected to see again.”
She raises her glass at me. “I’m not gonna take that personally.”
I actually laugh. “Good. So.”
“Yep. So. I made it out.”
“Did you change the world with your stories?”
She nods, smirking. “But not so anyone would notice. If you know what I mean.” She pauses to chuckle. “I did my part, Sick Heart. That’s all I’m gonna say in public. I did my part.”
I raise my glass to her in response. “No one came looking to kill me, so… thanks. I think?” Then we both laugh and clink our glasses. “Here’s to doing one’s part. What brings you to Rio?”
She nods her head at Paulo. “I came to see him fight.”
“And what did you think?”
“I think… anyone who knows anything in this business can tell that kid is going all the way.”
“Yeah. I could’ve told you that back when he was five. What really brings you here?”
“You, of course.”
I cock my head at her.
“Come on. You’re not going to hide away forever. You’re young still, Cort van Breda. Your future is in the professional ring.” She nods at Paulo again. “Like him. Like all the others you and Maart have sent into the world. Maart isn’t hiding. He’s the most sought-after trainer on the planet at the moment.”
I put up a hand. “I’m gonna stop you right there.” I don’t even know this woman’s name, and honestly, I don’t want to know it. Because that life belongs to some other guy. “You’ve got me all wrong. I’m perfectly happy to slip into obscurity. And if you doubt that, you have no idea who I am.”
She presses her lips together. But everything about her is still smug. Like she knows me better than I know myself. “OK. Then… it was nice to see you. You and all your people look extremely well-adjusted and happy. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“And… if you ever change your mind…” She slips a business card into my suit coat pocket. “Now you know where to find me.” She gives me a finger wave and walks off.
I turn the other direction and get my woman her drink.
Four hours later I’m leading a blindfolded Anya towards a helicopter.
“What the hell is this?” she yells over the thumping sound of the rotors.
She has asked me that four times since this secret journey started.
When I put her in a limo after we left Paulo’s party.
When I put her on a plane when we got to the airport.
When I helped her into a golf cart that brought us here to the helipad.
And each time I say, “You’ll find out.”
It’s a little less than an hour’s ride to our final destination. A two-week getaway in paradise. But we’re still about five minutes out when I reach over and pull the silk handkerchief down her face so she can see.
We don’t have headphones on. We don’t need headphones to talk in a helicopter. She signs, Where the hell are—
And that’s as far as she gets, because she sees it.
The moon won’t be new until tomorrow. But that’s OK. That will be day one.
The helicopter lands on the Rock’s top platform and even through the dark night, I can see my other family get up from their nests and begin to cry out a ‘welcome home.’
When I look at Anya, she’s got tears in her eyes. Or maybe that’s me?
We get out, the helicopter leaves, and we say nothing. We will probably say nothing this entire trip.
Two weeks?
Two weeks of silence is just a warm-up.
But when we look at each other, and start taking off our fancy clothes—dropping them into piles at our feet—we laugh and giggle like the kids we never were.
Then she takes my hand and we run.
And then we jump.
Try another JA Huss book…
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Narrated by Teddy Hamilton, Tad Branson, Savannah Peachwood
When AJ and Logan walked into Yvette Nightingale’s bar they didn’t expect to be there long. They certainly didn’t expect to be dancing with her, or having sex with her, or spending the night with her.
Because they were sent there to kill her.
Not fall for her.
Not feel sorry for her.
Not want to take care of her, or protect her, or be in to her.
But sometimes people enter your life for a reason. Sometimes they even enter at the very moment you need them most. And Yvette Nightingale needs AJ and Logan.
She needs them even more than they need her.
In To Her is 320 pages of dirty smut, fantasy scenes with erotic toys, MFM and MMF ménage, and an angst-y HEA that will leave you guessing until the very last page. (This is not a love triangle).
END OF BOOK SHIT
Welc
ome to the End of Book Shit. This is the part of the book where I get to say whatever I want about the story (or anything else!). It’s never edited and it’s always pretty last minute. Though this time, I’m writing the EOBS two weeks before release because I need to get my paperback uploaded for preorder.
I started writing the End of Book Shit back in March of 2013 because I was sad. My dog had to be put down the day I finished my Junco book, Range, and I was a newbie writer back then and figured I was obligated to write some kind of “end of book shit” (acknowledgments or author’s note to most people) and I didn’t want to do it. So I called it the End of Book Shit because that’s what those words felt like. Just a bunch of shit. And from that point on, it became a thing.
So.
I have a lot of feelings about this book. Most of them are good ones. Sick Heart is definitely one of my most favorite stories ever.
Sometimes I finish a book and I’m like… meh. It’s a book. I’m not going to tell you which ones I have those feelings about because for the most part all my books have about the same rating. Somewhere between 4.0 and 4.8. And to me that means that the people who are generally reading the books like them about equally.
Of course, everyone has their favorites. And like me, their not-so-favorites. But the ratings tell me that it all evens out in the wash. About an equal number of people always seem to like the books and an equal number of people always seem to dislike the books. So I don’t want you guys to know which books I don’t like. If there was a clear winner in the “I-Hate-This-JA-Huss-Book” category, I probably would tell you because then I would disappoint fewer people when they realized I hated the book THEY loved.
And because I am able to have this perspective on the books, and because I have written so many, and published so many, and gone through the entire book process nearly a hundred times now, I can take a step back and separate myself from the story once it’s over.
For instance, people who hated Mr. Romantic – I GET IT. The book was about a guy who was accused of rape in college and had a thing for rape fantasies afterward. That book is definitely what I would call dark.
And Meet Me in the Dark. I mean, the title says it all. You’re gonna meet this asshole in the dark. And what you find there is gonna be equally dark. So if people hate Merc, I GET IT.
And in Bully King. Cooper is a jerk. Again, the title explains in very clear language what’s going on here. He’s a bully. He bullies a girl because they have a messy past he can’t quite wrap his head around. You know what I absolutely love about the negative Bully King reviews though? I always—ALWAYS—know who read the book and who didn’t. Because the twist comes very late in the story and um… yeah. It’s called a twist for a reason.
Anyway, like Nolan in Mr. Romantic and Merc in Meet Me in the Dark, Cooper the Bully King is looking for redemption. (Though, Nolan didn’t *really* need redemption. He did nothing wrong. But regardless, he was still looking for it.)
These are dark books. They have dark heroes. These heroes are broken, they live outside what most of us consider socially acceptable norms, and they do this by CHOICE.
I love all three of those books, by the way. None of them come anywhere near the “meh” feeling I have gotten for some over the years. These three are masterpieces, actually.
But here’s my point—Sick Heart isn’t about a dark hero. He isn’t looking for redemption because he doesn’t need redemption. And I do not care what kind of shit people want to write about me for saying that, it’s an accurate assessment of Cort the Sick Heart and here’s why:
1. He’s not into dark shit in bed. He’s actually pretty apathetic about sex. Sex to him, and all the adult protagonists in this story, has lost its meaning. Sex is NOT the reason he takes Anya with him to the Rock. He takes Anya to the Rock because he intuitively knows Lazar is a piece of his puzzle and she could be a way to crack that secret. He never clearly articulates this in his thoughts, but it’s there. Trust me, I wrote the fucking book, it’s there. And despite what one early reader said – there is no dubious consent in this book. This person actually complained that Anya didn’t agree to the first sex scene because she never said the word YES out loud, even though Anya doesn’t fucking talk. Like… did we read the same book here? I was very confused by this accusation because there is no dubcon in this book. Anya’s view of sex is even more apathetic than Cort’s. She gives no fucks at all about sex. But she clearly gives permission in that first sex scene three separate times, for all three men. There is an explicit conversation about her consent. But beyond that, she is laughing in that sex scene. It is playful. She is drunk, yes. They all are. But this is not a frat-party-drunk sex scene. This is a we’re-still-fucking-alive-celebration sex scene. And even though her permission was given in Cort’s point of view, she has no regrets afterward. She doesn’t complain about being taken advantage of. She makes a decision during the fight to help Cort win. She CHOOSES HIM in that moment. She joins HIS team. This happens before HE chooses HER. This is part of Anya’s permission as well. Furthermore, when they arrive at the Rock and Cort hands her the hose to wash him off, Anya understands this is an act of trust. That he is trusting her not to hurt him. He literally hands her a way for her hurt him and she rejects it. I she were feeling taken advantage of in the first sex scene, she would’ve missed that subtle act of trust he was showing her. She would not have cared if she hurt him with the water hose. And she did care, because she says, very clearly, at the end of that chapter, “I won’t.”.
Now. Perhaps Anya SHOULD’VE felt taken advantage of. That’s another topic. I get that. Maybe she should’ve felt that way. But it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that she DIDN’T feel that way. And the reason she didn’t feel that way was because she has no fucking feelings about sex anymore. It has lost all meaning to her. She does not care how her body is used. Her strength comes from her silence. She is a mental ninja. She cares about her words because her speech is what she controls. Her silence is a way to make sure no one ever really knows if they have hurt her or not.
So this dubcon thing. I don’t know where this person came up with this, but it certainly didn’t come from the actual text in this book. I have some guesses though, and I’ll get to that in a sec. I’m still making my list about why Cort will never apologize for his actions…
2. Cort didn’t choose his path in life, he was forced. It’s either let them win and kill you, or kill them first. And in my mind—and Cort’s mind too—it would be a greater sin to give up without a fight than it would be to rise in the ranks and take your place as winner. He killed people. A lot of people. But he’s not a killer. He’s a fighter. And not only is he a fighter – he is a survivor. He owns that word. He has been through hell and he’s still here. He’s still fighting. He didn’t make the rules, he just lived within their boundaries. Could he have escaped before this moment in time? No way in hell. He got out in the end because he was finally in a place where he had no other choice but to put it all on the line. He and his friends finally had some control over things and everyone played their part. At what other point in his life would his camp all have put their lives on the line to break free? There was never a reason to rebel before now. They could always fight back, take out a few people here and there, and then what? Nothing would change. They would not get away, they would all be killed. It is not until Cort has earned his freedom that they finally see a way out and that way out is through Cort.
3. The darkness in this book has nothing to do with Cort. The darkness in this book is all about the evil people who run the world that Cort and Anya live in. They were used up as children. Both of them should be dead by now, but they aren’t. They fought. They survived. Yes, all the vicious scenes in this book that deal with the sick ways in which they were used are a part of my fiction. But unfortunately, child sex trafficking isn’t a fiction. It’s a real thing. And if me writing a love story about two survivors of that dark world creates the perfect storm of conditions for you to r
ail and rage against me, then that’s all you. Not me. It’s got nothing to do with me. All I did was write a book to highlight the fact that child sex trafficking exists and it’s the victims that get left behind who matter.
In Sick Heart – I made the victims matter.
And I did that by turning them into survivors.
And if my greatest sin in this book is that I gave these two survivors a love story, well…
This is where I usually say…go fuck yourself. But I’m gonna show some restraint today and say something else instead. Because I understand how sick the premise of this book is. I get it.
But this is why I put a trigger warning on it, bitches. OK? I did my part. I hate trigger warnings. I almost never use them. But I did this time because I understand how disturbing the back story of Cort and Anya is. This world my characters live in is sick in the heart. And I wanted to give readers the chance to opt out. If you picked up the story and read it and then got angry because I wrote a love story about two people who survived the most horrific childhoods imaginable, that’s all you.
Don’t blame me. I didn’t do anything wrong and I will never apologize for the words I wrote in this book.
OK. Now that that’s all out of the way, I’d like to say one more thing:
If you hate this book for reasons other than those listed above—the writing, a plot hole, the pacing, my unusual use of paragraph spacing (my editor tried to change that but I changed it back, so it’s fine if you hate it. I knew what I was doing…) the personality of the characters, the unlikelihood of a little boy surviving out on an abandoned oil rig for three months and being fed by a bird, whatever it is – well, then that’s totally fine.
I don’t care if people hate my stories.