by Nikki Ash
Clinched
Copyright © 2018
Nikki Ash
All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Cover design: Jersey Girl Designs
Cover photograph: Kruse Photography
Cover model: Blake Sevani
Editing: McKay Editing
About the Author
Nikki Ash resides in South Florida where she is an English teacher and writer by day and a writer by night. When she’s not writing, you can find her with a book in her hand. From the Boxcar Children to Wuthering Heights to latest single parent romance, she has lived and breathed every type of book.
Reading is like breathing in, writing is like breathing out. – Pam Allyn
While reading and writing are her passions, her two children are her entire world. You can probably find them at a Disney park before you would find them at home on the weekends!
Contact Nikki Ash
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Other books By Nikki Ash
All books can be read as stand-alones
The Fighting Series
Fighting for a Second Chance
Fighting with Faith
Fighting for Your Touch
Fighting for Your Love
Fighting ‘round the Christmas Tree: A Fighting Series Novella
Fighting Love novels
Tapping Out
Clinched
Takedown (Coming July 2018)
Mob Romance
Bordello
Landry series Kindle World novel
Nate (single dad romance)
Football Romance
The Pickup (Coming Fall 2018)
Table of Contents
Dedication
Clinched
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Dedication
To my children: You are the best part of me.
Clinched
Definition: A position where two people try to control each other’s bodies by wrapping their arms around one another while fighting for the upper hand, right before the takedown.
Prologue
Tristan
Present day…
“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Lexi! Happy Birthday to you!” Lexi smiles wide, her big blue eyes looking around at all of our family and friends who are here, joining us to celebrate her fifth birthday. When the singing stops, she glances my way and I give her a nod.
“Go ahead, Lex! Blow out the candles and make a wish.”
She nods back then closes her eyes hard, her cute little nose scrunching up in concentration. She leans forward, and with all her might, my little girl blows the candles out, everyone cheering and clapping and snapping photos. She opens her eyes and jumps off the chair, running toward me.
“Wanna know my wish?” She’s so excited that I don’t have the heart to tell her what parents always tell their kids. If you tell anyone it won’t come true.
Bending down so I’m level with her, I pull my daughter into my arms. “Absolutely.” She cups her hands to cover her mouth. Then she brings them to my ear and whispers, “I wished to buy all the paint in the world and color the bestest picture ever.” She says it in such a serious tone, I know she means business.
I’m not sure where it came from, but my daughter, Alexandria Scott, has the creativity gene running through her veins. She lives and breathes art in every way possible. From crayons and markers to chalk and paint, she could spend her entire day simply creating.
“That’s a good wish! How about we open up your presents after we have cake? There might be a present or two on the table that can help make your wish come true.” Lexi jumps up and down and then runs over to my mom, who is passing out pieces of cake to everyone.
“Damn, Tristan. Remember the day that little girl was born?” Mason plops his ass into a chair, cake in hand, and goes to take a bite, ignoring the fact he has a huge fight coming up in a few months.
“Bro, you can’t be eating that shit while you’re training.” I snag the plate of cake out of his hands and sit down next to him, successfully taking a huge bite of his cake. “And of course I remember when my daughter was born. How could I forget? It was the best day of my life.”
“Hey, she might be your daughter, but she’s my goddaughter, and that counts twice as much because it’s from God. You just screwed shewhoshallnotbenamed. That’s not Godly. As a matter of fact, that’s the opposite of Godly. Plus, I pretty much named her.”
“You did not name her.” I shake my head, ignoring his comment regarding Lexi’s surrogate, and take another bite of the delicious cake.
“Did so,” Mason argues.
“Did not.” Don’t ask me why I’m even arguing with this guy. He’s a twenty-nine-year-old toddler and I always fall for his shit.
“Did so.”
I watch my daughter, with her face covered in frosting, talk and laugh with her best friend, Micaela. They may live four hours from each other and be nine months apart in age, but since the day they met during our Christmas vacation to Breckenridge, they’ve become best friends, always begging to see each other.
My gaze goes to Bella, Micaela’s mom and one of my oldest and closest friends. She gives me a small smile as she sits on her husband’s lap, a little over six months pregnant with their second child. There was a time when I would have bet my life, Bella and I would’ve ended up together, the two of us raising her daughter as a family. But life has a way of working things out the way they should be, and in the end, Bella ended up marrying Micaela’s father and our longtime friend, Marco, and I was blessed with Lexi. The day Micaela was born, I thought my world had come crashing down. Only, I didn’t realize at the time, God had a different plan for me. Lexi was meant to come into my life and I can’t imagine a world without her in it.
Tristan
Roughly six years ago…
I’m lying in my room with my girlfriend, Gina. She’s passed out and I’m watching reruns of That 70’s Show. I watch her chest rise and fall and wonder if maybe I’m in over my head with this girl. If maybe it would be best to accept she isn’t going to change, and walk away. When I first met her at the bar, she was so carefree I w
as immediately drawn to her. She appeared to be completely immune to the world around her, only living in the moment. What I didn’t know at the time was that her carefree attitude was due to the excessive drinking and drug use. She hid both from me at first, but slowly she started showing her true colors. We got into a huge fight about it, and she promised me she would slow it down, but that was a lie. It has only gotten worse the last couple months.
I’ve asked her to get help but she tells me she has it under control—she’s just going through some shit at home. It’s obvious she’s turning to the drugs and alcohol as an escape, but she needs help. Help I’m not in a place to give her. I don’t know what she’s been through because she won’t open up to me, but when she gets high enough or drunk enough, she’ll let little pieces slip out. I’m worried about her but I don’t know what to do. I’m a twenty-year-old college student living off a trust fund for God sakes. I’m watching one of my good friends, Marco, go through something similar, and I feel helpless.
There’s a knock at the door and Gina stirs, the blanket dragging down enough to reveal her bare ass. I rush out of the room to answer it, so she doesn’t wake up. Last night was rough. She said she was visiting her mom and then a few hours later, she showed up at my apartment drunk and high and crying. I held her hair back as she threw up until she finally passed out. I don’t know if her issue is with her mom, so I’m hesitant to reach out to her for help, but I’m going to have to do something soon. I open the door and Marco comes storming inside.
“Where the fuck is she?” he spits out. His eyes are bloodshot and glossy, and it’s clear he’s high as a kite. I see Bella hiding behind the door, looking terrified, so I try to stop him from coming in.
“Marco…you need to calm down, man.” While I’m built from years of working out, Marco is a UFC fighter. He slams his fist into the door—pushing it open—then stalks inside looking for Bella. When their eyes meet, he starts spewing out insults, calling her a bitch and accusing her of ratting him and his drug problem out to his dad.
We’ve all known for some time he has a drug problem, but because of how it started—his best friend driving them home from the club after Marco won his title fight, wrecking the car, and being put into a coma, while Marco was injured so badly he couldn’t fight—we’ve made excuses for him, hoping he would get it together. Judging by the shit he’s saying, Bella must’ve told his parents what’s going on.
I cut him off before he says anything else to Bella. “You do have a fucking drug problem. Bella was just trying to help. We’re your friends.”
Marco barks, “She’s not my friend. She’s nothing to me.” Then he looks at Bella. “You have enough problems of your own to be worrying about me. Focus on your fucking self.”
Bella’s eyes go wide and she begs him to leave.
“Why? Afraid pretty boy here will learn the truth? Or wait…did you end up doing what I suggested after all?” His eyes drop down to Bella’s stomach and a horrible feeling comes over me.
“Bella, what’s he talking about?”
Marco laughs. “Oh, this is great! You had time to call my fucking dad and stir up shit, but you forgot to mention to your best friend here that you’re knocked up.”
I’m shocked as shit because I didn’t even know Bella was having sex. Sure, she’s my best friend but we don’t exactly do girl talk.
I’m trying to get my head wrapped around the fact Bella is pregnant while Marco continues to spit shit out about her having an abortion.
“So, Bella”—Marco laughs humorlessly—“tell us. I mean you got in my business, so it’s only fair I know yours.”
Bella’s head drops slightly. “I—I’m having the baby.” I have no idea what’s going on, but it’s obvious Bella doesn’t want to say who the father is—or maybe she doesn’t know or he doesn’t want the baby.
“And who’s the lucky guy? Who’s the guy that’s fucked for life?” Marco questions.
I see the tears streaming down Bella’s face and the words come out before I can stop them. “I am, so worry about yourself.”
“I call bullshit,” Marco spits out.
“You can call whatever the fuck you want. I was just shocked you knew. Now get the fuck out. Bella’s baby is mine!”
Of course this is the moment when Gina decides to come out of the room. Her hands go to her mouth and tears well up in her eyes. I have two options: save Bella or save my relationship with Gina. I choose Bella and I continue to choose Bella for the next seven months.
Tristan
Micaela’s birth…
For the last seven months, I’ve been there for Bella and the baby she’s carrying. I never asked questions. She needed me, and like I’ve done our entire lives, I stood by her side, because even though she only sees me as a friend, I love Bella. Am I in love with her? I’m not sure. I would imagine the feelings would need to be mutual on a deeper level, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love her and care about her.
The thing about Bella is she’s easy to love. When you’re in her circle, she’ll give you all of her, and that’s why, when she needed me, I chose to give her all of me. I know, without a doubt, Bella would have done the same thing for me, no questions asked.
But as I stood there, after having our daughter ripped from my arms because she needed a blood transfusion due to severe anemia, I realized maybe I should have asked questions. When she told me the father didn’t want the baby, I left it at that. Did she technically lie to me? No. But she kept a huge detail from me. When I lied to everyone, saying the baby was mine, I had no idea who the real father was.
Marco.
Marco is the father of Bella’s baby.
The guy who I almost beat the shit out of for turning his back on his baby and Bella.
The guy who just spent ninety days in rehab getting clean so he could be a good dad.
The guy who was rushed somewhere in the hospital to donate blood to save his daughter’s life, and he could do that because his blood type is the same. And like a punch straight to my face, it hit me, I’m not the father. As much as I love Bella and this baby girl who I watched grow in her mother’s belly for the last seven months, I am not the father. Marco is.
And fuck if that didn’t change everything.
I screamed.
Marco yelled.
Bella cried.
Our parents begged us all to calm down.
I left.
Marco stayed. Because Marco is the dad.
When I went back to talk to Bella, I found her and Marco holding their baby like a happy fucking family. Like he didn’t tell her she was dead to him. Like she didn’t keep the fact he was the father from him. Like he didn’t tell her she should abort her baby. Like she didn’t lie to everyone and say I was the father. And the visual of the three of them is what led me to the bar where I am currently getting shitfaced, hoping to forget everything that has happened in the last seven months.
“You planning to drive?” the bartender inquires as he hands me my sixth, maybe seventh, double shot of Johnnie Walker Black.
“Nah, I’ll get a cab,” I slur, and even I can hear the drunkenness in my voice.
“You want some company?” I glance to the left of me to see none other than my ex-girlfriend, Gina. I don’t bother to acknowledge her. It’s not that I’m mad at her. I’m just mad at the world and she’s part of the world.
She doesn’t say anything else, just sits down next to me and orders herself a Coke.
For the next few hours, I get drunk while Gina keeps me company. She doesn’t say a word and neither do I. I don’t even know what I would say. When the bartender makes the ten minutes until closing call, I take a good look at Gina, her jet-black hair and banging fucking body, and think about what it would be like to get lost in her. It’s been seven months since I’ve been with a woman. Seven months of stroking my dick in the shower.
“What?” she asks, giving me a shy smile.
“I want you.” I’m drunk as fuck and the
words come out slurred, but I think she gets the idea because she smirks and stands up, throwing a couple bills onto the bar.
I stand, my head fuzzy, and reach into my pocket to pay my tab. I have no clue how much it is or how much I have, so I throw a bunch of bills on the bar as well.
I follow Gina into the bathroom, and before she can even lock the door, I’m on her. I have her body pressed up against the sink with my dick pushing against her.
“Tristan, fuck me now,” she begs and I don’t question it. Grabbing her hips, I lift her up, her skirt scrunching up to her waist. I push her panties to the side, and then unbuckling my pants just enough to pull my dick out, I thrust into Gina over and over again, not sure if she’s getting off, not sure if I’m getting off, just focusing on one thing.
Getting Lost.
I wake up, and with one eye, I check out my surroundings. My head is pounding and I feel drunk. Drunk? And it all comes flooding back to me.
Bella.
The baby.
Marco.
The bar.
Johnnie Walker.
Gina.
More Johnnie Walker.
Fucking Gina.
Fuck! I fucked Gina. In the bathroom of the bar. In her kitchen. In the shower. In her bed. I look at the bed and her side is empty, but on the nightstand, there are empty drug baggies and a pipe. Guess she’s still the same woman she was seven months ago…
Grabbing my cell phone from the nightstand, I see it’s only seven in the morning. No clue how I woke up this early, but knowing I need to talk to Bella, I make my way to Gina’s kitchen and take a couple Advil to help my hangover. I wash my face and teeth the best I can, and call a cab to take me to the hospital. I get there and Bella is awake with Marco sleeping next to her. The anger that I’ve been keeping at bay hits me. This guy chose drugs over her, over their baby. I was there for her. I chose her. And what does she do? She lets him back into her life without giving it a second thought. Doesn’t she realize he’s going to hurt her? And when he does, does she expect me to be there to pick up the pieces?