Sucker for Payne

by Carrie Thomas

  She hadn’t.

  I decided in that moment, no matter if Conner joined the cause or not, I wasn’t stopping. I had to be a part of it. You could have heard a pin drop in that gymnasium when she spoke about the abuse she’d suffered from her drunken father. And when she pulled out the copies of the 911 calls she’d personally dialed from the ages of seven to sixteen, a tear rolled down my cheek. She had over thirty pages in her hands.

  I recognized the pain in her voice, because I’d lived it. Throughout my time in rehab, I accepted I was an addict. Although, it’d taken a while, because I’d always considered myself a social user. Popping pills hadn’t started out as pleasure for me. It had taken me months to even know why I’d been doing it.

  Using wasn’t a pleasant experience for me, so I never missed it. Add in the professional guidance I’d received, and I understood my reason for touching the stuff had mostly been due to the fact I wasn’t grounded. My roots weren’t planted; I hadn’t a clue of who I was, or who I wanted to be. When you’re a blank canvas, anything and everything sticks to you, until one day, you’re so covered up by everyone else’s color, you don’t have any of your own. There was absolutely nothing original about who I’d been while taking pills. I hadn’t realized at the time, but once I figured out the life I was living was actually my own, I knew it wasn’t the one I wanted to live.

  And watching this woman I’d just met, bare her soul for anyone who would listen, lit a fire inside me. Watching the faces in the crowd moved something deep inside my gut, forcing me to conclude that speaking on behalf of myself, and enlightening even one person, would feed my soul.

  Beside myself at the assembly’s conclusion, I was in awe of the pure strength Michelle had. It was enviable, the way she’d turned such horrible beginnings into the life she wanted. One that she was proud of. One where she was helping others, which I was learning was kind of the point.

  ***

  “I’m so glad I got to come,” Lena said as we took our seats on the plane to Vegas.

  “Me too. I need my sidekick.” I nudged her shoulder.

  “I’m starving.” She grabbed her bag, digging through it. “I woke up late. I haven’t eaten a thing since early last night. Add in the hangover, and I’m near death.”

  “You shouldn’t have stayed out so late. Couldn’t get enough of Wade, I see,” I joked about the new guy she was seeing, nodding at the black makeup smeared under her eyes.

  “I’d like to say it was worth it, but my stomach disagrees.” She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes and leaned back.

  My phone pinged as the pilot came over the speaker to say it was time to power down all devices. I opened the text, before turning the phone off.

  “What’s that?” Lena leaned closer to see, before the screen went dark.

  “Navie sends me screen shots of Conner when she can sneak them.”

  “That’s sweet of her,” she said. I could see the furrow of her brow, even with her sunglasses pulled over her eyes. “She’s a solid nut to crack, huh?”

  I nodded. “I think she has a hell of a time dealing with her dad. After being around her a little more, I can understand now why she plays everything so close to the chest.”

  Lena buckled her seatbelt. “That brother of hers too. If I had to be around him, I’d punch him in the nuts every day, just for fun.”

  I laughed. “I bet she could take him down too. The way she handled herself with Mikey . . .” I frowned at the memory. “Well, I know she can most definitely handle herself.”

  “She’s stacked, for sure.”

  I tucked my purse under my seat and continued. “Her dad treats her like a second-class citizen.” I hated that Navie had grown up in such a negative household. “It’s like sexism on crack, around those two. I don’t know how she stands it. I don’t think he was even supportive during the trial.” I’d spoken with her multiple times through the week-long ordeal, and never once saw her dad or brother there. But she’d assured me each time, she was perfectly fine.

  Lena settled her head against the headrest. “I really hope that’s not the case. That man has enough money to make sure the douchebag never sees the light of day again. If he has even a smidgen of a heart, how could he not use his influence in this scenario?”

  I didn’t have an answer, and only hoped he had pulled strings behind the curtain.

  Conner was waiting on us when we landed. I hadn’t allowed more than twenty seconds to pass before I was in his arms. “I missed you so much!” Warmth surrounded me, as he boosted me up and around in a circle. Happiness filled my chest.

  “Me too. God, you feel good.” He kissed my lips.

  “Take that shit to your room,” Lena called out.

  “That’s the plan.” Conner lifted me higher, his lips skimming my neck.

  “I love you.” It was as if my hands had a mind of their own, touching, caressing every inch of his face.

  Conner loosened his grip, so that my body slid down his, until my feet were on the ground. He grabbed my luggage and led us to the parking garage.

  Once Conner had Lena set up with her room key at the hotel, he all but dragged me to our room. I felt bad for not offering to get her settled, but she waved us off, knowing Conner wasn’t going to wait long to get me alone. I didn’t want to stall either, but I wasn’t going to be rude about it. My boyfriend, on the other hand, didn’t care one bit.

  Once inside the room, he brought me to him so quickly, my flip-flops fell off. He picked me up and my luggage continued to roll past us on the tiled floor in the entryway of the room.

  His lips found mine, greedy and tugging, taking everything from me, before I could offer up my own kisses. I caught up to his pace just as he was placing me on the bed.

  “I hated being away from you.” He slipped my T-shirt over my head, leaving me in a bra.

  “I know. It seems like it’s been six months.” I leaned up and kissed his chin, where the cutest dimple known to man existed.

  “I’ve been dreaming of you every night. Sometimes twice.”

  “Aww. Has anyone ever told you how sweet you are?”

  “No.”

  I giggled, knowing he was telling the truth. “Well, you are.”

  “I can’t wait to make you my wife.” He pulled my body down the bed by my ankles. His hands were large enough to wrap all the way around. I played with his hair as he kissed my stomach, taking his time as he made his way down to my pubic bone. Slow, passionate kisses left goosebumps in his wake. I shivered from the chill. Closing my eyes, I reveled in the feel of him.

  The stretch from my lounge pants moved over my body like silk.

  “I’m going to make love to you like no other time, Willow. I thought I knew before I came here how hard it would be…being away from you.” He bent my knee and brought my thigh up to his lips. “I hated every second of it. If I wasn’t worried about you, I was missing you. If I wasn’t needing you, I was wanting to hear your voice. Absence has not made my heart grow fonder, it pissed it off. You’re going to have to fly out here every week next time.”

  “I can do that, babe. It’s just trial and error at first. It’s all still so new. We will get a system down that works for us. I promise. I’m here now.”

  Twenty mind-blowing minutes later, Conner’s body collapsed onto mine, shuddering. Sweat bound us at our chests, as I scraped my nails up and down his back softly. I sighed again; complete and total peace surrounding us.

  “I can’t ever go that long again,” he groaned.

  I kissed his shoulder. “I think we just made up for it.”

  “Would it be crazy if I said I was thinking I could have just gotten you pregnant?”

  I pushed him back, surprised that he would bring up pregnancy when we weren’t even married yet. “Uh, yeah. It would be. Don’t jinx us like that!”

  “It wouldn’t be the worst thing, would it?” His hopeful expression turned me to mush, considering we’d never really discussed children before, and he was
clearly telling me he wanted them. With me.

  “No.” I pushed his hair back from his eyes. “But I want us to be married first. I don’t want to have to explain to my kids why mommy doesn’t have the same last name as them and daddy.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Anything you want, anyway you want it, Willow. Forever.”

  I smiled and pulled him into me for one last kiss. Being someone’s top priority took me to new elevations. I was his everything. Being on a pedestal that tall made me not so afraid of heights.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Conner

  “I know what you’re about to do. Don’t. I’m ignoring him, and I want you to as well. We don’t need any distractions, Conner.” Willow gripped my face and pulled it to hers, after I’d stared him down.

  “Fine.” Anger surged through me. I took two full breaths, tamping down the urge to kick the shit out of Richard’s son each time he ogled Willow.

  “Fine?”

  “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” I gritted my teeth.

  “Don’t get testy with me. I’m only looking out for you. For us.”

  “Me letting an asshole eye-fuck my girlfriend isn’t what’s good for us.”

  “You’re being dramatic now.” She rolled her eyes.

  I pointed to my chest. “I’m being dramatic?”

  “Yes. You are. Preston’s doing the same thing to Lena. Look.” She nodded toward the crowd, where Steele and Lena sat with the rest of the media and TV personalities who were waiting for the pre-interview to begin.

  “Not to sound like a dick, but I don’t care about Lena. I care about you.”

  “Stop being a baby. Now, go out there, do your job, win the fight, then take me home, okay?”

  “This isn’t over.” I turned my back before she could smart off. I knew my girl was only looking out for me, but unfortunately for her, twerps acting like perverts were one area I didn’t need any help. He was going to stop, or I was going to make him. I didn’t give two shits that his father was my boss. I’d already signed the contract, and it was iron-clad. If Richard wanted to go that route, then I’d lawyer up. But his spineless son was going to focus his attention on someone else, and I planned on making sure of it.

  The interviews had gone as planned. They began by asking mundane questions about how each of us had prepared for the fight. And while they pretended to expect an answer they’d never heard before, both of us disappointed them by sticking to the same response every athlete always gave: hard work, sleep, and eating a healthy diet. I hadn’t felt the need to elaborate on the fact that I’d just gone weeks without seeing my girlfriend, and I was ready to demolish anything and anyone blocking my path for getting us back home; back to our lives together.

  My opponent, Kyle Richman, had been in the pro-circuit for a little over a year. He obviously had more experience than my two fights, but I had more to lose. Taking care of Willow was my main priority, and I wasn’t about to let him, or anyone else stand in my way.

  Three hours later, I entered the cage, focused on annihilating Richman. I wanted it over with as soon as possible. I looked to the crowd, searching for Willow. I smirked when I saw that she was seated next to Phyllis, my biggest fan—if her homemade signs and dedication to showing up to every fight were any indication. Hell, Phyllis waited after every bout for an autograph. But she hadn’t received one until my last two fights, and most of that was due to the fact that she’d punched my fiancé in the face. Given that my gracious girlfriend was able to laugh about it now, I felt like I owed the old broad for supporting me from the beginning.

  Richman came out swinging. I’d been accustomed to waiting, being patient for the perfect opportunity to get my opponent on the ground, but there would be none of that with him. If I waited too long, he’d wear me out. I knew he was probably in better shape; he was barely breathing, and I was beginning to struggle. My breaths were too quick, causing me to take in less air. I remained composed, looking for any sign that his footing would be off.

  His next punch landed right to my jaw. I heard it crack, then excruciating agony surged through the bottom of my jaw bone. I closed my eyes tight, trying to push the pain away, so I could refocus. Richman didn’t give me time to create a thought. He saw my discomfort, and turned it on. One, two, three, jabs to my ribs. A second strike to the side of my head. His kicks were repeated over and over, like he was working out at the gym with a bag. I took all of it, trying to regain my composure, when I heard the bell.

  Thank God. A little reprieve.

  “Do you need medical?” Steele asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Conner, your jaw is swollen. If you keep going it could mean permanent damage.”

  “I can’t quit,” I mumbled.

  Steele nodded, understanding my stance, but worried for my well-being. I got it, I did. But I would never give up on a fight. If they wanted to call it, they could, but not because I told them to. I’d deal with my jaw when it was over.

  I figured Richman would get a little cocky, considering he was fighting the most talked about rookie in recent years. Rookie being the key word. I knew his ego would carry him farther and farther away from reality, once he thought he would win. And just like I thought, he began to stand taller and move slower, working the crowd for show. That was my opportunity to gain leverage, and I took it.

  I had him on the ground and in a choke hold before he knew what was happening. I squeezed once, and he flopped around, attempting to get loose. I squeezed a second time, feeling the air being forced out of his mouth. A third pulse from my forearms was all it took, before his neck lulled to the side, letting me know he was unconscious. The referee was down on the mat, his face fully focused on Richman, and within a second, he had the match called.

  Victory.

  I let go, forcing myself to my feet, relieved, even though my face was throbbing. It almost felt like a vein had been cut off, blocking it from supplying my jaw with blood. But I didn’t care in that moment. My status in the AFL remained undefeated. I had known the whole time my contract wasn’t completely contingent on the wins, but I felt like I deserved the million dollars more with each win I placed under my belt.

  I made a beeline for Willow, pushing through the security I had placed around her.

  “I’m so proud of you, babe!”

  “Tha—” Fuck! Pain shot all the way up to my brain. Sharp, short stabs of stinging started just below my ear, then like a bolt of lightning, branched all the way to my temple.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  I pointed to my jaw then made a breaking motion with my hands. Her eyes grew, indicating she’d been surprised and worried at the same time. That was the last thing I wanted. I brought her head into my neck and kissed the top of it, even though the movement hurt like hell.

  Once we’d made it out from the crowd, I was able to relax. The on-call doctor looked me over, indicating that I would have to go to the hospital. It wasn’t something I hadn’t already known. I spent twenty minutes trying to calm Willow down, using whatever sign language and expressions I could think of. Talking was out of the question.

  The doctor taped me up and released me, giving me the opportunity to walk out on my own. That beat the hell out of a stretcher any day, so I took it. I grabbed Willow’s hand, tugging her down the tunnel and past the flashing lights. I didn’t speak a word to any of the reporters begging for answers to stupid questions they felt the public wanted to know. Lena and Steele brought up the rear.

  “Let me drive you,” Willow said as we got to the truck.

  I shook my head, and winced.

  Once we arrived at the hospital, Willow took over like a mother hen. She filled out my paperwork, spoke with the nurses, and advised the doctor on what medications she didn’t want me to have.

  I smiled on the inside, as my girl tore through the room we’d been assigned, like a tornado, making sure everything was perfect for me. She taped news
papers to the windows, and closed the curtains, leaving no room for a close call. No one could see in. She sent Lena out to get my favorite snacks, even though I couldn’t eat any of them. And Steele was assigned to keep the press off our trail. Willow made him swear he would tell them I was in the best shape of my life.

  I didn’t understand why she was going to so much trouble for the press. I didn’t give two fucks if they knew Richman had broken my jaw; I won the fight. But she didn’t want my name in the press for the slightest thing, and that included being in the hospital for surgery. I let her have it. She wanted to take care of me, and I had to admit, it felt good being taken care of.

  When I woke up after surgery, Willow was sitting on the side of my bed, holding my hand. She’d been there the whole time, I felt it. The love she gave me unconditionally moved me. It made me feel like I could take on the world, one giant step at a time. It made the reconciliation with my mother mean more. It made my friendship with Steele deeper. The conviction I felt, knowing I’d always have her by my side, brought out a nurturing side to me I hadn’t thought existed. Her love made me want to be a father, which was something I’d always feared.

  How could I rear a child, when I wasn’t able to take care of myself for so long? My perception on parenting changed when I found her. I realized that making a child together, giving that child equal parts of myself and the woman I loved, the woman I cherished and respected above all others, would be the epitome of love. It would be a blessing to be brought up in that kind of home.

  Looking into her eyes, knowing I was about to pass out again, I tried with everything I had to tell her I loved her, but I couldn’t get anything to come out. She smiled and kissed my forehead, like she’d read my mind.

  EPILOGUE