by Chloe Walsh
After eight hours of nonstop typing and brainstorming, I'd had enough. Feeling like I wanted to blow my bedroom the hell up, I decided that a change of scenery was a much safer option.
Throwing on my winter coat, I slipped out of my room and rushed down the staircase, making a beeline for the front door, desperate not to get into another altercation with a hormonal Teagan – or worse, Lucky.
I couldn’t handle another one of his stares. The one where he looked at me and with his eyes, he told me I'd done him wrong. Everything I did lately seemed to upset someone and I was done feeling bad.
Slipping into my truck, I started the engine and sat there for a moment, letting the heater warm my bones, and my mind clear. It was freezing hard outside – typical for December. I'd forgotten about how cold it could get at home. When I'd lived in Ireland, all I'd truly had to worry about was the rain. But here at home, snow was my latest element of peril.
When my fingers felt somewhat mobile, I slipped my truck into gear and headed down the driveway with only one destination in mind.
Thirteenth Street.
****
When I let myself into my parent's house, the sound of Teagan laughing filled my ears and I balked. How the heck did that little, round ball get here before me?
Stalking into the kitchen, I spotted her sitting at the kitchen table with Mom. Mom was smiling indulgently at Teagan while she stuffed her face with cookies – cookies that were being served by none other than Derek Porter.
"Hey, buddy!" Teagan grinned, sticking both thumbs up at me.
"Hey, Buddha," I shot back, poking my tongue out at her.
Her grin turned into a scowl and she flipped me the bird.
"Hope!" Mom chastised, horrified. "What a horrible thing to say to your friend."
"It's grand, Lee," Teagan shot back, feigning hurt. "I'm used to her cruel remarks."
"Cruel remarks?" I cocked a brow and burst out laughing. "Coming from the woman who once told me I reminded her of Colton in drag? Yeah! Real wallflower, that one."
"It's the feet," Teagan shot back. "What size are you again – a nine?" She held her hands apart in front of her face and whistled. "Good lord, I've never seen anything like them."
"If you weren't housing my cousin right now your ass would be getting up close and personal with those size eight and a halves!"
"Whatever, She-Hulk!" Teagan winked at me and I returned her gesture with a nod.
And that was that.
A month of arguing was behind us.
"I give up on you girls," Mom muttered with a weary sigh.
"So," I mused as I removed my coat and hung it on the back of the door. "You and Dad rekindle your bromance?"
"Not quite," Derek shot back. "Kyle's at the hotel. I'm here to see your mom." He didn’t sport his usually goofy grin when he looked at me and for some reason that caused a pang of pain to shoot through me. "Your dad's a dick," Derek muttered under his breath, causing Teagan to choke on a cookie with laughter.
"Hope, are you hungry?" Mom asked. Shoving her chair back, she stood up and rushed over to me before embracing me with one of those mommy hugs. She was upset with me for running off and eloping, but she would never ignore me. Unlike Dad, my mother had control over her emotions. "Can I get you a plate?"
"That depends on what's on offer," I replied, pressing a kiss to my mom's cheek. "And on who cooked."
"Your father-in-law cooked," Derek chimed in and I cringed.
I'd never actually thought about it like that before this moment.
Christ, Derek Porter was my father in law.
No wonder Dad wasn’t speaking to me...
"Has he calmed down any?" I asked my mother as I took a seat at the table. "Dad, I mean?"
"Well…" My mother chuckled nervously and tucked her curls behind her ears. "He's… Your father's struggling…"
"Not one bit," Derek offered. Slapping a plate down in front of me, he shoveled a bunch of cookies onto said plate. "And me and your mom aren’t too fucking happy about it either, Hopey-bear."
I cringed.
I loathed that pet name.
"I don’t know what to say," I muttered, dropping my head in my hands. "It's not the way I ever planned on you guys finding out." I cast an evil glance across the table at Teagan who was dutifully ignoring me.
"So when did you plan on telling us?" Mom asked, voice full of hurt.
"On your tenth wedding anniversary?" Derek quipped.
"Never, I guess," I muttered, feeling my cheeks burn. "It's not as if it lasted long enough to send out announcement cards or anything." My voice was shaky as I spoke. "He changed his mind and left." Shrugging, I added. "End of story."
Pain encompassed me and everyone fell silent.
The disappointed stares morphed into sympathetic ones.
"Dammit," Derek hissed, tossing a baking tray in the sink. "If I'd known back then, I could have…" He quickly cut off, and shook his head. "I just wish I'd known."
"Why?" I tossed out wearily, my thoughts immediately turning to my husband. "It's not like you could have shackled him to me and made him stay."
In my mind there were three versions of Jordan.
The one I grew up loving. The kind and gentle Jordan who would never have hurt me under any circumstance.
The Jordan who was a stranger to me. The one who broke my heart and abandoned me. I hated that dick version of him.
And then there was the Jordan I was currently facing. The one who was back in The Hill. The one who showed up at my parent's Halloween party and dropped the bombshell that he wanted me back. At least, that's what I thought he meant.
I couldn’t be certain since I'd been avoiding him ever since.
I knew he was still in town, though.
He was staying with Derek.
I knew this because I'd driven past Derek's place on multiple occasions over the last four weeks. I was under no illusions as to who owned the motorcycle parked out front.
"Maybe," Derek said, drawing me back to the here and now. "But it sure as hell could have helped with his treatment."
"His treatment?" My head shot up. "What treatment?"
"Treatment?" Teagan frowned as she munched on a cookie. "Like a rehab or something?"
"I…ah…" Derek looked from me to my Mom before grabbing his coat. "I have to go!"
"No, Derek – wait!" Shoving my chair back, I rushed after him, but I was too late. He already slammed the front door and was no doubt halfway down the driveway by the time I reached the kitchen door.
Turning back to mom, I shook my head. "What the hell was that?"
Mom didn’t reply.
She was staring past me, with a look of newly discovered horror on her face.
"Mom!"
Nothing.
Not even a blink.
Throwing my hands up, I turned and stalked out of the house.
I wanted answers and I was going to get them, dammit!
I had one foot out the front door when a tall figure cast a shadow over me. Looking up, I visibly jumped when my eyes landed on Lucky.
"Don’t mind me," he said stiffly, stepping aside for me to pass. "I'm here for Teagan."
"Lucky." My heart soared in my chest and pounded at a crazy speed. "I'm…"
"Don’t say you're sorry," he interrupted. Throwing his head back, he looked up and laughed once. "Spare me that conversation at least."
"I didn’t –" Biting down on my lip, I fought to find the words to make him stop being mad at me. There weren't any, I realized, and my heart sank.
"Later, Hope," he muttered before walking into my parent's house, leaving me staring after him.
****
Chapter Eleven
Noah
"You look like ass," Colton mused. Reaching across the table we were sitting at, he grabbed a beer and clinked it against mine. "Seriously, man. You look like shit."
"Noted," I replied, not bothering to say anything else. He was right. I did look like shit. I
was in pain and I hadn't shaved since I'd left my wife.
My head was spinning and my shoulder was burning like hell as I watched Colton flirt heavily with the brunette to his left.
The one on his right was trying her hardest to put the moves on Logan, but from the look of boredom on Low's face, I partially guessed she was out of luck.
Lifting the bottle to my lips, I drank until there was nothing left.
Sitting here in the middle of a club full of fans and fellow fighters, and my mind was back in The Hill.
Was she okay?
Was she missing me like I was missing her?
Was she tired?
My life had changed in what felt like the blink of an eye; I'd gone from being me to being hers and now nothing made sense.
Fuck. I was seriously regretting my choices.
I was a selfish bastard; chasing my dreams, and leaving my wife behind when our dreams didn’t line up.
I should have stayed at home with her – taken a year out from the cage.
I didn’t want to be here tonight.
Only reason I was in the first place was the shitty fucking stipulation in my contract sealing me into these media appearances.
"You know," Colton said when the women he'd been talking to stood up and walked over to the bar. "This pregnancy thing is having the opposite effect on me."
"Oh yeah?" I cocked a brow.
"Yeah," he confirmed solemnly. "It's throwing me off my game." Shuddering, he added, "I'm feeling all kinds of paranoid, man."
"There's something very fucking wrong with you," I muttered with a shake of my head. "You can’t catch a baby, dipshit." How was I related to this douchebag? I mean, seriously.
Craning his neck, Colt watched as a leggy blonde pranced past our table. "Still can't believe you're having a kid." He was talking to me, but his attention was completely on the blonde with the legs. If he kept this up, he would be catching something and it wouldn’t be a fucking pregnancy.
"You're not the only one." Tossing back another bottle of beer, I slammed the empty down and sighed. "I'll do right by them," I found myself adding – a defense mechanism I had built up over the years.
"We all know that, man," Colt shot back calmly. "And Teagan knows, too."
"Well lookey here," a familiar voice sneered and I groaned inside. I didn’t need this headache. "If it aint Messina and his band of pussies."
"Band of pussies? Wow. What a burn." Colt let out a whistle. "Got anything better, old man?"
"Walk away, Q," I warned, as I looked up at my former trainer. "Walk away now."
"Or what, Messina?" Quincy grinned. "You gonna take me out?" He laughed harshly. "Oh no, I forgot. It's your enemies we've got to worry about."
I moved to stand up, but Low threw his hand on my lap. "Don’t," he said in a low tone. "They're not even close to being worth it."
Colton was practically bouncing on the edge of his seat, waiting for me to give him the nod. Maybe we were related after all…
Logan glared up at Quincy, who had now been joined by Beau and Anthony Cole. "Let's leave this for the cage, boys. All scores can be settled on Saturday night."
"What the hell do you know of scores, cripple?" Quincy slurred at Logan.
"Not much," Logan shot back, never once taking his eyes off my face – or his hand. "Which is why I'm telling you to do yourself a favor and walk away."
"But first, let's have a toast," Quincy sneered, tipping his drink out in front of him. "To Tommy, the unlucky bastard, and to us. For getting the hell away from your ass while we still could." Grinning, he slurred, "Oh, Messina? Give my regards to your whore."
Losing all control, I jerked to my feet and managed to overturn our table as I barged towards the turncoat bastard. "She's my wife, not a fucking prostitute!" I roared, loud enough to draw a whole lot of unwanted attention to us. Grabbing Quincy by the scruff of the neck, I rammed him against the nearest wall. "Say it again. I fucking dare you."
"You can't do shit to me, boy," Quincy laughed, but I could see the anxiety in his eyes. I could fucking smell it. He was reeking with fear. "You put a hand on me and you can kiss goodbye to that title shot."
He was right.
I was on a warning.
One more fight outside the cage and I would be stripped of my chance.
Releasing my grip on his shirt, I shoved him once more before backing away. "The belt's mine, Q," I hissed, forcing myself to breathe. "I'm coming for you." Chest heaving, I turned and glared at Cole. "Be ready. Because I'm coming for all of you."
"Damn!" Colt chuckled when security had escorted Quincy and his crew away from our area. "You kept your head." He smiled like a kid jacked up on too much candy. "I feel like a proud father right now."
"Don’t," I managed to grunt, still raging. "Don’t fucking joke when I'm still feeling homicidal."
"Okay." Colt held out his hands in retreat. "You're the boss."
"Noah?" Logan called out as he hobbled towards us, achingly slowly. "You remember everything I said about quitting the tour and retiring?"
"Yeah."
"Forget it." Logan glared darkly. "Put that bastard to bed on Saturday."
"Don’t worry, Low." I smirked. "I plan on it."
****
Hope
I was completely torn up all the way to Derek's apartment. The image of Lucky's face and the memory of the last time Jordan rejected me impaled me, making it hard to breathe, let alone drive.
When I finally mustered the courage to get out of the truck, I spent another ten minutes standing on their doorstep, debating on whether to knock or just run while I still could, knowing that once I saw him again my choice would be taken away from me.
See, I had no power over myself when it came to that man. I never had. From birth to the age of eighteen, Jordan Porter had been the focal point of my world. I lived and breathed him. Then he broke me and I spent eight long years trying to piece myself back together, dreaming of the day he would come back into my life and tell me what a mistake he'd made.
He said he was back for me.
Had he meant it?
Only one way to find out…
Bracing myself, I bit the bullet and knocked.
Only then did I realize that knocking had been the easy part. The hard part was the waiting.
Well, I was a pro at waiting…
After what felt like an hour, footsteps came from behind the door and I quickly tucked my hair behind my ears in an effort to make myself look somewhat presentable.
The door swung inwards then and I was greeted by a woman.
A blonde woman.
My heart stopped dead in my chest as I stared at her.
"Who the hell are you?" I heard myself ask.
"Annabelle," she replied, looking equally confused. "Who are you?"
I staggered backwards, clutching at my chest like I could somehow stop the pain that was spearing through my body. But I couldn't.
"Annie?" I heard Jordan call out from somewhere inside the apartment. "Who's there?"
"Some woman," she replied, clearly puzzled. "Hey – are you okay?"
"I'm…" I shook my head and backed away. "I'm…"
Just then, Jordan appeared behind her, shirtless, and the cruel and torturous penny that seemed to follow me wherever I went dropped.
"Hope!" He hissed, pushing out past his fiancée. "Don’t go – it's not what you think!"
But it was too late, because I was going. Swinging around, I stumbled down the steps and rushed for my truck, unable to take another second of this fucking pain.
The minute I was inside the safety of my truck, I slammed the automatic lock button, locking all the doors. Jordan continued to bang on the side of my door as I started the engine and backed out of the driveway, but I didn’t look at him.
In truth, I didn’t think I would ever look at him again.
Teagan was playing on her guitar in the living room when I got home. I recognized the song the instant I let myself ins
ide. Michelle Featherstone's We are Man and Wife. Her voice was so beautiful it gave me chills. Her voice had always done that to me. Cut me right down to the bone. Teagan had a voice that deserved to be on a stage, being heard by millions of people.
Barging into the living room, I rushed over to the couch and threw myself on the mercy of my best friend.
****
Teagan
It didn't matter how many times I listened to Taylor Swift's album. Every song always felt like it had been written about and for me and Noah.
The car accident, going up in flames in the Ring of Fire. Finding me. Saving me. Sacrificing himself for me. He'd always loved me more than I deserved. He brought me to life. I showed myself to him. Every part. Every piece. He brought me to life. It was crazy. But he made me feel insanely happy and free and wild and unstoppable. It was insane. But he had me.
He was the opposite of everything I thought I wanted. He was the epitome of everything I never knew I wanted and knew I couldn't live without. He was it for me. All of him.
I cursed his name more times than I cared to remember.
Angry, hard love…
The sound of my ringtone blasting all but gave me a damn heart attack. Startled, I dragged my earphones out of my ears and scrambled to accept the incoming call.
"Hello?" I almost shouted as I pressed my hand to my heart, willing myself to calm down. I guess that's what I got for dozing off while listening to music on my phone.
"Thorn."
"Noah." I sagged against the couch. "You almost gave me a heart-attack." I exhaled a shaky breath. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure a little pee even came out."
"Do I need to know what you're talking about?" my husband drawled and I quickly shook my head.
"Nope. Doesn’t matter." Moving from the couch to the floor, I stretched my legs out as I tried to relieve a cramp in my butt cheek. "Tell me what's happening with you."
"I'm just home from an appearance," I heard him say and immediately I grimaced. "Don’t worry," he assured me with a chuckle. "It was boring as fuck and I left before eleven."