by Chloe Walsh
"Not long after I left The Hill," he replied. "I was…struggling with some stuff." Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. "I wanted to forget. It started off with alcohol and a little weed." He laughed harshly. "But I obviously have a lot of Derek in me because it wasn't long until I was out of control."
"Out of control," I repeated numbly.
My world felt like it had been pulled out from under my feet.
"Heroin, Hope," Jordan explained, tone flat and cold. "You think I fucked you over by leaving, but I was toxic. I left to protect you from my bullshit."
"Bullshit?" I shook my head in confusion. "You're no druggie, Jordan."
"Aren't I?" he countered. "Because I have a file as long as your arm saying otherwise."
"I can't believe this," I whispered, struggling to take it all in.
"She was my sponsor," Jordan whispered, finally breaking the horrible silence that had been suffocating us.
I looked up at him. "Annabelle?"
Jordan nodded. "I never slept with her."
Now I was the one to recoil. "You're lying." He had to be. She was his fiancée.
"I'm not lying to you," he countered, stepping closer. "The only woman I've ever been with is you."
"How?"
"How?" he shook his head in confusion "What do you mean how?"
"Sex, Jordan," I spat. "Are you honestly trying to make me believe that you haven't slept with that woman?"
"You gave me everything I ever needed," he growled, sounding oddly offended. "Why would I be with her for sex?"
"Because you're a man," I hissed, pressing my fingers to my temples. This was too much to take. "So why were you engaged to her?"
"Because she needed me."
"I needed you."
"I know, Hope. God, I know. But Annabelle…. I helped her out of a hole with an abusive ex by pretending to be her fiancé and she helped me out of a hole with….
"Me," I deadpanned. "Go on. Finish your sentence."
"I needed you to move on," he choked out. "It was a horrible fucking lie, but one I thought you needed to hear."
"Why?" I demanded. "And why the hell would you put that crap in your body?"
"Because I wanted to forget and I didn't care if I killed myself in the process," he replied honestly. "In fact, I was sort of banking on it."
"That's what I don't understand," I admitted, feeling torn between my emotions.
One part of me wanted to throw my arms around this man and comfort him through his pain.
The other part of me wanted to slap him silly.
"You don't need to understand," he whispered. "Just know that I did you a favor by leaving."
"No," I hissed, shaking my head. "You don't get to call the shots and leave me hanging like this." I tightened my ponytail and struggled to reign in my emotions. "You ruined me. I had to live these past seven years not knowing what I'd done wrong. You broke me so bad. And no amount of success or money could fill the void you left inside of me. You took my heart away, Jordan. I can't go on not knowing why. It hurts too much."
"I was going down, Hope," he hissed. "I made a decision not to take you down with me."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying to you," he ground out through clenched teeth.
"You've been walking around pretending I'm a freaking stranger, Jordan!" Every time I looked at his stupid, beautiful face, another smidgen of my dignity slipped away, fueling my rage, and igniting my wrath. "Tell me why you left me that night. Tell me or I'll walk. I swear to god I will walk away and never come back!"
"Because I was raped, okay!" The words tore from his chest, bringing with them an onslaught of emotion. "I was fucking raped and I couldn't bear to look you in the eye afterwards!"
My hands shot to my mouth. "Jordan…"
"My stepfather raped me, Hope. Over and over. For days. He tied me to the bed and the bastard raped me with his body. He raped me with…Fuck, I can't even say it…" Pulling on his hair, Jordan backed away from me, chest heaving. He looked like he was struggling to breathe. "And when he was finished, he left me there." He dropped his head in shame. A sob tore from his throat when he said, "By the time Derek found me, I had almost bled out."
I couldn't hold back the scream that ripped from my throat.
This was a nightmare.
I was having a nightmare and I so desperately needed to wake up…
"Afterwards, I wanted to die." Jordan continued to talk, filling me in on a lifetime of painful memories. "I wanted to be fucking dead, Hope."
Meanwhile, I sank to the floor and wept.
"I left you because I loved you, not because I didn't!"
"I could have helped you…" I began to say but he cut me off.
"How, Hope?" Jordan demanded. "How could you have possibly helped me?"
"I…" I felt sick. I didn't know what to do or say. "I'm so sorry."
"That day I left you?" Jordan sank down on the floor beside me. "Derek took me to a facility that day." Wrapping his arms around his legs, he hung his head. "I stayed there for eight months."
I gasped, appalled. "He locked you up?"
"I locked myself up!" Jordan corrected. "I didn't want to be near anyone. Derek was against it, but he did what had to be done." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "He signed the papers."
"Why didn’t you tell me?" I cried.
"What?" he demanded, crying too. "What was I supposed to tell you? That I tried to fight back and I couldn't?" He grabbed his hair and pulled, clearly in pain even talking about this. "Do you have any idea how that feels? To be a grown man and unable to protect yourself?"
"It happens to men, too," I whispered, blinking back the tears.
"Yeah," he laughed humorlessly. "It does."
"Would you have left me, if it had been me who had been raped?"
"It's not the same thing."
Shifting onto my knees, I crawled over to him and wrapped my arms around him. He stiffened under my touch, but he didn’t push me away "Would you have left me because of something I was a victim of?"
"No!" he hissed. "Of course not."
"Then you should have told me."
"I couldn't," he whispered.
"Why?"
His green eyes were glassy and full of self-loathing when he said, "because it wasn't a one-time thing."
"What do you mean it wasn't a one-time thing?" My blood ran cold. "Jordan." My voice was shaky. My body was trembling. "What do you mean?"
"It started about a month after mom married him."
"But you were only fourteen…Oh god." I heaved. I physically heaved, feeling like my insides were being dragged out of me.
"It stopped when I left," he whispered, trying to assure me. "I got bigger. Stronger. I could fight back..."
"Jordan," I wept.
"But sometimes I didn't…" He shuddered violently. "Sometimes… oh god, sometimes I just laid there and took it… " His voice broke off and it took him a few moments to continue. "I thought that when I came to you, that it was my fresh start. I thought I was free. Free to start my life with you." He laughed humorlessly again. "I was wrong."
"I hate this," I choked out. Reaching up, I gently cupped his cheek, and pretended not to notice when he slightly recoiled from me. Allowing my fingers to trail over his cheek bone and down to his stubbly jaw, I sighed. "I want to go back in time and change things for you."
He stiffened beneath my touch. "This is why I didn't want you to know." Clenching his eyes shut, he continued to speak. "The way you're looking at me now. The tone of voice you're using."
"What tone?"
"Pity," he hissed. "Disgust." My hand fell on open space when Jordan suddenly jumped to his feet and stepped away from me. "I need to go."
I watched him run out of the room and instantly I was on my feet, running after him.
He wasn’t leaving me.
Never again.
Rushing down the steps, I reached him just as he kicked off the pedal of his motorcycle.
&n
bsp; "I'm not stable, Hope," he said in a warning tone, face down.
"I don’t care," I replied as I swung my leg over the back of the motorcycle and got on.
"I can't guarantee you anything," he whispered, shivering. "I'm an addict with a record for fucking shit up."
"And I'm a Carter with a heart that belongs completely to you." Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pressed my cheek to his back and said, "Where you go, I go."
****
Chapter Thirty-Two
Noah
"You don’t throw a fight," I roared, chest heaving. "Not fucking ever."
I couldn’t believe this.
All that work, all those months of grueling training sessions, and my team had thrown in the towel– correction; my wife had thrown in the towel.
"If she hadn't, you'd have lost a hell of a lot more than that belt," Logan snapped. "Goddammit, Noah, he had you beat out there, man."
Clenching my fists, I leaned back against the cool tiled wall behind me and sighed. "It was a concussion." Clenching my jaw, I forced myself to inhale a calming breath. The air came but not the calm. I was so fucking worked up right now I could hardly see straight. "I've fought with a broken fucking jaw before, man. Have you ever seen me quit?"
When Logan didn’t answer me, I turned to Colton and tossed the icepack I'd been holding to my eye at him. "You should have stopped her."
"What did you expect me to do?" Colt shot back, red faced. "Wrestle her to the ground?" He shook his head. "That's your wife, Noah, and what she did for you tonight took guts."
"I could have lost you tonight, Noah," Teagan hissed, storming into the dressing room, tears filling her pretty eyes. "After everything…" her voice caught in her throat, and she shuddered. "I can never lose you, Noah."
"Thorn," I groaned. "You need to stay out of this. I was handling myself out there."
"Handling yourself?" Teagan repeated, outraged. "You were getting killed out there!"
"Then don’t watch," I growled before turning to Colton. "Go back out there," I told him. "Ask Cole's team for a rematch. Right here. Right now."
Colton gaped at me. "Noah, I really don’t think that's a good idea, man –"
"Just fucking do it, Colton," I roared.
"Don’t you dare, Colton," Teagan commanded.
"Teagan!" I hissed. "Goddamn, baby, stay out of this."
I nodded my head to Colt and he left the dressing room with a heavy sigh.
"She's right," Logan piped up. "If you go back out there, then you do without me." Standing slowly, Logan hobbled towards the exit. "I'm not going to watch you get yourself killed," he said over his shoulder. "I'll have no part in it."
"Noah." Wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, Teagan whispered, "You’ve been putting your body through hell for the last twenty years." She sniffled before adding, "I need you alive and breathing, Noah. I need you."
"I'm not going anywhere, Thorn."
"I mean it, Noah," Teagan snapped. "I can't watch you do that again. I won't watch you go through that again."
"Where are you going?" I called out, feeling achy and annoyed, as I watched Teagan storm over to the door and pull it open
Turning around, she looked right at me. "There is a house full of people waiting for you at home. People who love you. People who know that you are enough with or without that fucking belt. I'll be waiting for you, I won't leave again, but I sure as hell am not going to watch you commit suicide in a cage anymore. I've done enough of that."
Having said that, Teagan walked out without another glance.
****
Teagan
Feeling useless and annoyed, I stormed out of Noah's dressing room. There was no point staying there and fighting with him. I'd probably just end up hitting him and fracturing the other side of his stupid head.
Did he not get it?
Was he so stubborn and pigheaded that he couldn't see that this sport was going to kill him?
I knew he had a score to settle, but he had been shot.
He was never going to fight like he had pre-shooting.
It just wasn't going to happen for him.
Anger churned inside me. I needed him. Alive and breathing and preferably with his head intact. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't watch him go out time and again and take beatings for no good reason.
It wasn't about money anymore.
Even if Noah never fought again, he had amassed more than enough to live very comfortably for the rest of his life.
I was here, begging him not to do this, and he was refusing. I wanted out of this world, and I wanted him to leave it behind with me.
We'd grown so close lately and it broke my heart to think that we were heading right back to square one. Fighting and arguing. I was too weary to fight him on this, and too in love with him to give him an ultimatum.
I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I almost didn't notice Kyle as he rushed towards me. "How's he doing?"
"Oh, he's as stubborn and uncooperative as ever," I told him. "He's demanding a rematch."
Kyle smirked.
"Do me a favor," I said wearily. "Have a word with your brother. He's not listening to a damn thing I say."
"You look shattered," Kyle noted and I had to nod in agreement.
I was beyond exhausted.
I'd had my fill of excitement for one lifetime.
"Here," he said, handing me the keys of his truck. "I’m parked half a block away – down fifth. Go home and I'll go talk some sense into Top Gun."
"Yeah," I sighed in agreement. Being here wasn't going to do either of us any good and I was bone weary. "Wait," I called after him. "What about you?"
"That's why I had so many sons." Kyle grinned. "Plenty of drivers on hand."
"You promise you'll stop him?" I knew I sounded weak, but I needed an assurance and I trusted Kyle's word.
"I'll do better than stop him," he called out over his shoulder. "I'll drop him home to your door."
"Thanks, Kyle."
"Anytime, Blondie."
I left the arena through the back exit, knowing full well that there would be a media frenzy out front.
Maybe Kyle could talk some sense into him? I had to do something to stop this from continuing.
That was my last coherent thought before a strong smelling cloth was pressed against my face, making everything slip, slide into oblivion.
Sleep came quickly, stealing me from consciousness without my permission.
****
Chapter Thirty-Three
Teagan
Like a horrible recurring nightmare, I knew where I was the minute I came to. There was only one place on earth that had the ability to terrify me to my very core and obliterate my common sense.
Yeah, there was only one place in the whole damn world I vowed never to return to.
Unluckily for me, that's where I was. The smell of Marijuana and cigars and the huge ring of fire surrounding me were all too familiar.
I had dreamt of this place for years. I'd been haunted by the memory of how close I had come to death out here in this barren emptiness.
I was here again, but this time I was on my own – without Noah.
Alone and tied to what felt like a steel pole.
Clenching my eyes shut, I pretended to still be asleep as I pulled and yanked at the chains that held my arms captive above my head.
How the hell was I going to get out of this?
I wasn't, I realized, and my heart sank.
The last words I'd spoken to my husband were cruel and nasty. I was going to die out here and he was going to blame himself. I would never get a chance to say goodbye to him.
Tears burned the back of my eyelids, scalding me, churning with an everlasting amount of regret.
I didn't want to die, I realized.
I wanted to live.
I wanted to grow old and have a life with Noah. Even if it meant I had to watch him fight in the MFA until he was freaking forty.
Go
d, it seemed so stupid now.
We'd been fighting over something so miniscule.
It really was true; you don't know what you have until it's gone.
I would gladly go back and argue with Noah over silly things than be in this position.
Would Noah even find me? After my death, I mean?
Would they have the good grace to return my body to him?
I doubted it.
He would never know what had happened.
He might think that I left him.
Again…
I had to force myself not to groan as I thrashed in physical pain; the thought of my husband's grief too much to bear.
Look at how badly he had blamed himself for Einín's death.
What would this do to him?
****
Noah
By the time Colton dropped me back to South Peak Road, with Kyle snoring loudly in the back seat, I was in fucking agony and seriously regretting refusing the paramedics offer of a ride in the back of their ambulance.
A hospital admission would be worth it to get my hands on some kick ass painkillers right about now.
Colt never spoke to me the entire way to the house and when I climbed out of the car, he drove off without a word.
I'd fucked up with him – Logan, too. I knew it. I'd put him in a horrible position and then I had blamed him for something out of his control. I would make it up to him later, but first I needed to make it up to my wife.
Christ, I'd been so insensitive to her. Getting angry with her for loving me and worrying about my health. What the hell was wrong with me?
Pride, I thought to myself. My pride had been wounded because tonight it was finally clear that I was done. Cole had beaten the shit out of me and Teagan had shown me mercy by throwing the fight. I wasn’t in the right shape to compete professionally anymore and I wasn’t ready to give it up. I couldn’t control it or turn back the clocks. Facts were, my fighting career was over at twenty-seven and I had to find a way to make peace with it.