Torment (Carter Kids #4)

by Chloe Walsh

  Teagan: Don’t make promises you can't keep.

  Hope: I didn’t. Noah is going to be FINE. He is going to cream Cole.

  Teagan: I hope so…

  Tonight was fight night and I was nervous.

  Incredibly nervous.

  Of course I lied through my teeth in each text message to Teagan, trying to assure my fragile friend that her idiot husband would be okay when the truth was I didn’t know.

  If we were talking about Noah fighting Cole before everything that had happened in the past six months, then I would say it was a no brainer. Noah would win hands down.

  But things were different now. He was different. Weaker. More vulnerable.

  I hated to admit it, but I was worried for my uncle. I only hoped that the fight would be over quickly and he would come to his senses and get the hell out of the fighting world while he still had a functioning brain.

  Aside from Noah's suicide mission, I was really proud of him. The grace and tact he'd shown these past few months was admirable, and no one, not even Max Jones, could doubt the love he had for his wife.

  They were back together again.

  Teagan was home.

  This time for good.

  She and Noah were battling their demons together now, having finally figured out they were stronger together than they were apart.

  I hoped they would make it.

  It wasn’t easy.

  Surviving the death of their child had almost broken them. I had a feeling if that didn’t break them nothing would.

  Noah and Teagan, along with the rest of our family, had left for Denver over an hour ago, leaving me behind to meet a deadline for my editor.

  At least that's what I'd told them.

  The truth was there was no deadline – well, there was, but I wasn’t worrying about that.

  My entire focus for the past three days had been Jordan.

  He was coming over tonight.

  I'd finally caved and agreed to meet him…

  The sound of the doorbell ringing startled me and I jumped. Casting a glimpse at the watch on my wrist, I frowned when I noticed it was only six thirty. He was early. He wasn’t supposed to be here until seven. Immediately, my heart began to hammer in my chest.

  The fact that Jordan stood on the other side of that door did nothing to ease my racing pulse.

  It made it worse.

  So much worse…

  "Hold on," I called out before dashing down the hallway and into the bathroom.

  "Be cool," I told myself as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. "Cool your guns, Carter."

  This wasn’t a romantic visit – quite the opposite in fact.

  He was here to talk about our divorce proceedings – well, that's what I told him when I finally caved after weeks of being asked and agreed to meet him. For the sake of my sanity, I had to think this way. I couldn’t risk getting my hopes up when it came to that man.

  Apparently, Jordan never filed the papers when he left Cork. Why, I had no clue, but I had a feeling I was about to find out. I hadn't spoken more than a few words to him in the last couple of months, choosing to put my heart and soul into helping two people who actually cared about me. Not a charlatan like my husband. I hadn't returned any of his calls or replied to his text messages since the day I found Annabelle at Derek's apartment. He could lie all he wanted

  The truth was, I didn’t trust him anymore, and if you didn’t have trust, you didn’t have anything at all.

  With trembling hands, I patted down my curls, gave my cheeks a quick squeeze, and braced myself. I had no idea how this meeting would go, but I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever.

  I walked up the hallway and took a few deep calming breaths before opening the front door.

  Like every single time I had seen him in my twenty-six years on earth, my heart somersaulted into my chest the moment my eyes landed on his face.

  "Hope," he acknowledged. With his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his faded blue jeans, he looked down at me almost nervously. The dark coat he had on was only halfway zipped up, revealing the crisp white shirt he had on underneath.

  "Jordan," I forced myself to say. Goddamn, his green eyes seared me just the same way they always had. Why couldn't I look this man in the eyes without seeing my future? It would be so much easier if I was able to look at him and not fall apart every single time.

  Jordan Porter had been blessed with height and one of those all year tans people paid a fortune to attain. He was built like a swimmer. Broad shoulders. Narrow hips. His black, curly hair was shaved tight on both sides, leaving a little extra on top, flopping slightly forward in that really sexy way men wore their hair these days

  I wanted him to kiss me. After all this time. See? I knew there was something very wrong me. I shouldn't still want him, but I did. Badly.

  Forcing myself to step aside, I gestured for Jordan to come inside, and when he did, I had to clench my fists at my sides to physically stop myself from touching him. He looked good, I begrudgingly thought to myself. Too good...

  "Thanks for agreeing to meet me," he said as he removed his coat and shook the rain drops that had landed on his hair off. "God, I haven't been inside this house in…" He looked around at our surroundings before facing me. "What – it must be twenty years?"

  "Try ten," I shot back, closing the door after him. "We snuck up here after my junior prom, remember?" With cheeks burning, I walked past him and into the living room.

  "Oh yeah," I heard him say from behind me. "I forgot about that night."

  "I didn’t," I shot back angrily. I couldn’t stop myself from being angry. Not after everything that had happened between us. "So." Walking over to the armchair closest to the fireplace, I took a seat and faced him. "What did you want to discuss?"

  ****

  Teagan

  This was bad.

  Something felt very wrong as I watched Noah walk into the cage

  The crowd were screaming and calling out his name.

  All I wanted to do was cry.

  This was my husband – the only thing I had left.

  I couldn’t afford to lose him.

  As I watched Noah salute his fans, it suddenly dawned on me that it was exactly one year to the night that he'd found me in Cork.

  One year had passed since he invaded my life and recaptured my heart.

  So much had happened...

  Knowing Reese was sitting on the other side of this cage didn't bother me anymore. Back before everything had happened, I used to obsess over that stupid woman. Not anymore. She was nothing to me. Nothing but a distant memory.

  Nothing of importance.

  I had come to learn that the only important things in life were the things you couldn't live without. I could easily live without the anger and jealously. But the one thing I realized that I couldn't live without was enclosed in the metal cage, fighting for a freedom he already had but never accepted.

  Noah stopped in the center of the cage, eyes on me, searing me. So full of emotion and heat. He stared hard at me and I stared right back at him, willing him to know how much I loved him. Wanting him to know just how proud of him I was in this moment.

  His glove covered hand moved to his chest, to his tattoo, and I felt faint. I knew what he meant. He was doing this for our daughter. For me.

  Lifting my shaking hand, I placed it against my heart and mouthed the words I love you.

  He didn't reply.

  He remained completely motionless with his eyes on my face and his hand on his heart.

  Then the referee rang the bell and the moment was gone, broken, evaporated by the drones and screams of the hordes of fans.

  I watched both men circle each other like lions, waiting to see who would be reckless enough to make the first move.

  I felt every single one of the punches Cole landed on my husband's body and I cheered his name every time he came back swinging.

  It was a brutal fight. A blood bath. And most of the blood being s
hed was coming from Noah.

  'This is all wrong," I whispered to Logan who was sitting beside me. "He's not ready for this." He couldn’t win. He'd been shot. His weakness had been exposed to the whole world and now his opponent was taking full advantage of that damn shoulder.

  "I know," Logan replied, tone worried, as he patted my knee. "Cole's one weak son of a bitch. He can't beat Noah clean, so he's fighting dirty."

  I braced myself and looked back at the cage.

  Instantly, I felt like throwing up. Cole had Noah on the ground and he was digging his fingers into Noah's shoulder viciously. He'd been doing that throughout each round, weakening my husband, making him drop to his knees. Technically, Cole wasn’t doing anything illegal, so the ref allowed it to continue, but morally he was soulless.

  "Throw it," I blurted out, turning to Logan. "Throw the fight, Logan."

  "I can't," he replied gesturing to his legs.

  The sound of oooohhs and ahhhhhs filled my ears then, followed by heavy booing. Even the crowd knew the fight was dirty.

  I need to stop this…

  Springing to my feet, I shoved through the crowds, racing towards the barricade separating the audience from the cage.

  "Don't get too close, Mrs. Messina," one of the security guards said, blocking my way when I reached the barricade.

  "Back off," I warned him as I shoved back and took Colton's outstretched arms as he lifted me over the rail.

  "Throw the fight, Colt," I screamed.

  "I can't," he shot back, clearly torn. "Noah will kill me."

  "No!" I roared, "He's going to get killed in there. Throw the fucking fight, Colton!"

  When Colton didn’t move, I took matters into my own hands and grabbed the towel from his shoulders.

  "Stop," I screamed out. Scrambling into the cage, I rushed towards my husband and threw the towel at the ref's feet. "Stop the fight. Please!"

  "Noah," I cried out when Cole released his hold on him. "I've got you," I cried, wrapping my arms around his battered body. He dropped to his knees then, head bowed, his big body trembling.

  Succumbing to the overwhelming sense of dread inside of my body, I sank to my knees in front of him. "Noah," I repeated, cupping his bloodied face in my trembling hands. "Can you hear me?" My voice broke. "Answer me."

  "Thorn?" Noah's eyes were unfocussed, glazed over, as he tried to concentrate on my face. "Teag…an?"

  "I'm here," I sobbed, clutching his sweat soaked hair with my fist. "I'm here, Noah."

  He was so badly beaten; his left eye was almost sealed completely shut from swelling.

  Blood was caked over his head, dripping down his brow.

  "No more," I announced, voice distraught, as I wiped the blood away from his eyes. "This is barbaric."

  Noah opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. "I…"

  His eyes rolled back in his head, and then I was pinned underneath an insufferable amount of weight.

  "Get a doctor," I screamed as Noah began to convulse on top of me. "Somebody get a fucking doctor."

  ****

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Hope

  I couldn't remember the last time I wanted my dad.

  It must have been years, but sitting here, opposite the man who'd broken my heart repeatedly, I really wanted my dad. I needed his strong arms around me. Telling me that everything would be okay. Promising to make things right for me. But all I had instead was the source of my pain.

  I couldn't figure Jordan Porter out. Why he'd come here or why he hadn't left already. It didn't make sense. He'd run all too quickly out of my life many years ago, and now he wouldn't go.

  "Are we going to talk about anything important?" I asked when Jordan attempted to bring up the past for what had to be the tenth time. "Because our past is a hard limit for me, Jordan."

  "There's no shame in loving me, Hope," Jordan whispered and I balked.

  Oh no he didn’t…

  "No shame in loving you?" I shook my head in disgust. "You married me and then you abandoned me!"

  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. "I didn't do it on purpose."

  "But you still did it. On purpose or not. You still broke my world. You self-destructed and you took me down with you," I hissed. "I think that's pretty damn shameful."

  The mixed signals he was sending me weren't doing my heart any good. I was up in a heap trying to figure out what he wanted from me.

  We'd been so young. I'd fallen so hard for him. My feelings hadn't changed. I was broken inside because I seemed to be solely programmed to love Jordan Porter. But I knew what I needed to do. I needed to make him go away. For the sake of my sanity, I had to break free from the chains he had wrapped around my heart.

  He was gone for so many years that I'd learned how to cope. How to adjust to life without him, but he was back now. What the hell was I supposed to do with these feelings?

  It wasn't as if I'd gotten over him.

  "You were always with me!" Jordan roared, chest heaving as he finally rid himself of that infuriating cool demeanor. Standing up, he stalked over to the living room window and looked out. "Just because I wasn't with you in the flesh, doesn't mean you stopped being the pivotal fucking element of my world."

  "Well that's too damn bad," I screamed. Standing up, I kicked the coffee table with temper. "Because I signed your papers. I've suffered enough and I'm tired, Jordan." Looking him dead in the eye, I said, "So do me a kindness and walk away from me because I'm not willing to put myself through another round with you. I always lose and it's too hard."

  "I am leaving, Hope," he replied, eyes locked on my face. "I don’t have a choice. I need to leave today."

  "Why am I not surprised to hear you say those words?" I squeezed out, feeling like the air had been dragged clean out of my lungs. Blinking rapidly, I took several steps backwards. "Do you enjoy this?" I gestured to myself. "Do you enjoy hurting me?"

  Overflowing with unrecognizable emotion, I stalked towards him, and unlike every other time, he didn’t shy away from me. "Why'd you come back here, Jordan?" I demanded. Curling my fingers in the front of his shirt, I resisted the urge to thump him, letting out a harsh cry instead "I mean, why bother coming back at all if you're leaving again, huh?"

  "I came back because I realized I'd left something behind," he told me, voice gruff and thick.

  He stepped closer to me and I shivered.

  Achingly slowly, he placed his hands on my waist and dropped his brow to rest on mine. "Something I've spent a very long time looking for."

  "What?"

  "You." His hands circled my wrists. "I've been searching for hope."

  "No!" I shook my head, rejecting his cruel words and torturous promises. "You don’t mean that."

  "I do," he rasped, claiming the space I'd put between us. "I mean it so much I want to carve it on my body."

  "You don’t." Tears filled my eyes. "You can't." I looked around aimlessly and shrugged my shoulders. "You left me."

  "And I spent every waking moment regretting that," he choked out. He reached out and cupped my face with his hands. Immediately, I clenched my eyes shut, desperate to block this out.

  "Look at me." When I refused, he shook me gently. "Hope, look at me."

  Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked into his.

  "I am so sorry," he whispered. "For lying to you and leaving you." He exhaled a shaky breath. "I swear to you, everything I've done has been for you." His hands moved to knot in my hair. "I know I don’t deserve you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I'm in love with you. I want you, Hope, and I'm too fucking weak to walk away again. So I'm going to ask you the impossible." He pressed his brow to mine. "Come away with me, Hope Carter."

  "You can't just say that and expect me to be okay with it, Jordan," I sobbed brokenly. "You can't just barge your way back in my life and ask me to go with you! I've risked it all for you before and look where it got me."

  "I know I've fucked up," he countered hoarsely. "
I know I've hurt you and screwed everything up. But I need to be honest with you, Hope –" His voice broke off and it took him a moment to continue. "If I don’t do it now, I'll never do it, and I can't fucking leave again with you believing that you're not the most important person in my life. Because you are. You always were and you always will be."

  "Then why did you do all of this to me?" I sobbed. My hands reached up and cupped his face of their own accord. "Why did you break me?"

  "I have a lot to explain," he whispered. "I know that."

  "If I go with you," I said in a shaky voice – weighing up my options. "I want full disclosure."

  Jordan cocked a brow and I stared hard back at him.

  "You won't ever look at me the same," he replied.

  I shook my head. "I don’t care. I want to know."

  "You will care," he muttered.

  Taking a step back from me, Jordan unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.

  "What the hell is that?" My voice was barely more than a soft cry as I stared at the insides of his wrists. I could hardly breathe. I wasn't sure why I was asking Jordan to explain something that I clearly already knew, only that I needed to hear it from his mouth.

  "You know what that is," he choked out, green eyes locked on my face, imploring me not to pry.

  Stepping closer, I took his left hand in mine and carefully rolled the sleeve up to his elbows. "These cuts?" My eyes were locked on the ugly crisscross welts on the inside of his wrists.

  "Self-inflicted."

  "Why?"

  Jordan sighed. "Because sometimes the physical pain is easier to deal with than the emotional pain."

  My fingers trailed over the scars on his wrists. I touched the lines of his marred flesh. The purple swell of his bruised and battered veins. The marks on his veins caused a tremor of unease to roll through me.

  This was evidence of his lifelong pain.

  "When did all of this start?" I asked, not trusting myself to say any more and scare him back into that shell he loved to hide in.