Takedown (A Fighting Love novel Book 3)

by Nikki Ash

  “When will you be back?” Mila asks, her voice shaky.

  “I don’t know,” I say, slamming the luggage shut and zippering it closed. “Fuck! You lost your job, Mila! And instead of coming to me, you hid it. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me. I’m supposed to be your best friend, the person you turn to, yet you hid something so important from me.”

  “No, Mason.” But she doesn’t say anything else because we both know it’s the truth. I drop my luggage to the ground and pop the handle up.

  “I gotta go. I’ll call you.” When I get to the front door, I stop and look at my wife one last time. Tears of pain are rushing down her cheeks and all I want to do is go to her and comfort her. But I can’t do it. She didn’t trust me. It’s like my mom all over again. “By the way, there’s a birthday cake at Charlie’s. Alec and I went to your work to surprise you. Happy Birthday.” I open the door and walk out.

  After taking the next flight out and picking up a rental car, I finally make it to Nevada General Hospital at almost midnight. My mom is still in the ICU, so I’m told I can only visit for a few minutes since visiting hours are over. I walk into my mom’s room and I don’t even recognize her. Aside from the fact her face is completely black and blue, both her eyes are swollen and her lip is covered in stitches. She doesn’t look anything like the woman who gave birth to me. Her hair is bleached blonde whereas growing up it was a natural brown, and she’s skinnier than she used to be. Time hasn’t been good to her.

  “I was told you just arrived.” An older gentleman walks in. He’s wearing a suit and over it is a white lab coat. He’s probably in his early fifties. He must be the doctor.

  “I took the first flight out of LAX. My name is Mason Street.”

  The doctor puts his hand out to shake mine. “I’m Dr. Collins.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “And Denise Street is your mother?” he asks to confirm.

  “Yes, but I haven’t seen her in many years.”

  “When she was brought in, we did a blood and alcohol test on her. She’s free of any drugs or alcohol which is good. Often times, we see women in your mom’s condition have been doing drugs. We performed surgery on her ribs and punctured lung. I’m fairly certain she will make a full recovery.”

  “Does it say how she ended up in here? How she got beat up?”

  “The police were called and an investigation was requested because of how badly she was beaten. It was a drug deal gone bad. The police report also mentions prostitution.” Dr. Collins hands me several papers.

  “She’s going to be here for a few days. I would suggest you get some sleep and come by tomorrow once she’s awake.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Dr. Collins.” We shake hands once again before we walk out of my mom’s room.

  I’m walking out of the hospital to find a hotel when my phone rings. It’s Bella calling. My heart sinks it’s not Mila but it’s probably for the best right now. Bella and I don’t talk often anymore, our lives have gone in two different directions, but there was a time when we were good friends. Bella, Tristan, and I even spent our spring break their senior year exploring New York together. It was the first gift I’d ever been given and it was given by Tristan’s parents. From the beginning they treated me like one of their kids.

  “Hey, everything okay?”

  “Tristan called and told me about your mom. You know he’s on his way, right? But I wanted to offer you a place to stay. It’s late, and I don’t want you to be alone.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Bella. I’m not good company.”

  “Great! So, you haven’t changed a bit. Get your ass over here, Street.”

  Not able to say no to her, I agree and head over to her and Marco’s home. When I pull up, the automatic gate lets me in, and Bella is waiting for me on the front porch. While Marco is a decent guy, he and I don’t really know each other. When I moved to Vegas, he was already living in California. Some shit went down between Marco, Bella, and Tristan, and since Tristan and I are best friends, I had his back. Marco and Bella moved back to Vegas, and Tristan and I moved to Los Angeles. Shit has been dealt with and forgiveness has been given, but now that I’m here, I’m wondering if this is the best idea.

  I get out of my rental, leaving my luggage in the trunk, and walk up to meet Bella. She’s sitting on the porch swing with her baby girl in her arms.

  “Damn, woman. She’s adorable.” I sit down next to her. “Too bad she doesn’t look anything like you.”

  She elbows me. “She looks like her daddy.” She lifts her up and kisses her forehead. “Want to hold her?” she offers.

  “Sure.” I take her from Bella and she looks up at me with tired eyes. The last baby I held like this was Lexi. “Can’t sleep little cutie? Now’s the easy part. You get to get spoiled by your parents.” She coos at me and I laugh softly. I think about what Mila had said about wanting a little girl, and I picture a tiny baby: half Mila and half me.

  “So, your mom?” Bella questions.

  “She was beaten. I don’t know all the details.”

  “When’s the last time you saw her?”

  “Saw her? When I was thirteen. Who called you? Tristan?”

  “Yep. Your wife is freaking out. But the way he was talking, it sounded like you guys are having your own issues.” When I don’t respond, she adds, “We don’t have to talk about it. But I’m here.”

  “Thanks, Bella.” We continue to swing in silence, my arms holding the precious little girl who will hopefully never know heartache. I watch as her tiny lids eventually flutter closed. I never imagined wanting a baby of my own until Mila, now I have to wonder if it’s too late. I don’t want to think it is but right now I’m fucking hurting.

  “She’s asleep.” I hand her back over to her.

  “For now.” She giggles. “She’s a night owl.”

  Bright lights from a car pull up and the gates open. A few seconds later, Tristan and Mila are getting out of Tristan’s truck. They must’ve driven here.

  “I’m going to lay Liza down,” Bella says before excusing herself.

  “Are you serious?” Tristan yells. “Let me see my Goddaughter.”

  Bella lets out a dramatic huff and hands her over to Tristan. “Come with me to put her to bed? Marco’s inside.”

  “Sure.” Tristan looks from Mila to me. “I’ll be back out in a second. I got us a hotel room near the hospital.”

  Once they’re gone it’s only Mila and me, neither of us knowing what to say to each other. Finally she comes forward and reaches out to take my hands. I pull back slightly, and her face falls.

  “I’m sorry, Mason. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.” I can hear it in her voice that she really is sorry but it doesn’t change the fact she didn’t tell me. She didn’t trust me to help her, to take care of her. She didn’t even give me a chance. My head fills with the image of my broken mom laying in the hospital room.

  “I need time, Mila. I know it isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s all I got. It’s all I can give you right now.” Her bottom lip begins to quiver and tears fall down the sides of her cheeks, so I pull her into my arms. “Thank you for coming out here with Tristan. Just give me some time. Please.” She nods into my chest, and I can feel her hot tears soaking the front of my shirt.

  We go inside and find Marco, Tristan, and Bella conversing. “Hey man.” I greet Marco. “You ready to go to the hotel?” I ask Tristan.

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks for letting us make this our pit stop,” I joke, pulling Bella into my arms for a hug. “Will you be at the fight?”

  “Yep! We have two guys from our camp fighting. Are you staying here until the fight?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I have some endorsement and promo shit I’m scheduled to do anyway. Mind if I crash your gym?”

  “You’re always welcome, man. You know that,” Marco says.

  “Thanks.”

  We say our goodbyes and head out. Mila rides in the car with
me, but we don’t say a word the entire way. When we get to the hotel, we check into the two bedroom suite. Tristan takes one room, and Mila and I take the other.

  “I can sleep on the couch,” she offers once we’re alone. “I’m sorry for coming. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “It’s okay. We can share a bed. It’s only for one night. You’re going home tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah,” she whispers. “I guess I am.”

  We change out of our clothes and lay down at the same time. We’re in the same bed, yet she feels like a million miles away. Several times I want to close the space between us, but I don’t. I can’t. My head and heart are so completely fucked up right now. It didn’t matter that I’d given our marriage my all. At the end of the day, my wife didn’t trust me. Just like my mom didn’t.

  And as we both fall asleep, I can’t help but think about the fact that in less than twenty-four hours we broke pretty much every one of our wedding vows we made to each other.

  Thirty-Eight

  Mila

  I woke up before Mason did. I took a shower and left a note telling him I love him and I’d wait to hear from him. Then I grabbed a cab and headed to the hospital. I checked in with the front desk and received my visitor’s pass. I took the elevator up to the recovery level since his mom had been moved out of the ICU. But when I got to her room, she was sleeping. I went down to the cafeteria and got a coffee and a little while later went back up. Mason was in the room with his mom, but I couldn’t hear anything that was being said, so I left without him knowing I came by.

  I wanted to go to him but I promised I would give him his space, and I didn’t want to upset him more. So I called Gavin and told him I needed a few days. I didn’t want to leave if there was a chance Mason might need me. I checked into the same hotel he’s staying in, and I’ve gone to the hospital every day, hoping something will change but it hasn’t, and now it’s the fourth day since I arrived and I have a flight scheduled to return home this afternoon. As much as I want to stay, I have a little boy who needs me at home.

  As I approach the room, I hear arguing. I look around and put my ear up to the door. Mason’s mom, Denise, is yelling at him, telling him to go away and she doesn’t want his help. Mason responds by begging her to let him help her. She keeps saying she can’t but he keeps begging. He sounds like a little boy begging his mother to love him, and my heart breaks. Finally he gives up and says he’ll be back later. I slide around the corner out of sight and watch him leave. When he gets to the elevator, he slams his fist into the wall and then steps inside.

  Once I know he’s gone, I step into Denise’s room. She’s laying in her bed still covered in bruises and stitches but they are already beginning to turn yellow. She’s propped up slightly so she’s not lying flat on her back and she’s bawling her eyes out. She doesn’t look like a mother who hates her son, who resents him and thinks he’s a burden. No, she looks like a mother who has the entire world resting on her shoulders. And then it hits me. What if she isn’t pushing him away because she doesn’t want his help, but because she is afraid she doesn’t deserve it?

  I clear my throat, and she looks up, her eyes shining with fresh tears. “Can I help you?” she croaks out. I could go for the jugular. Yell and scream and beg her to let Mason in, but I’ve learned in my years as a nurse, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. So, instead I sit in the chair next to her.

  “My name is Mila Street.” I wait for my words to sink in before I continue. “I’m your son’s wife.”

  She nods slowly. “Did he send you here?”

  “No. He doesn’t even know I’m here. I wasn’t going to come in here but I heard your argument.” I give her a pointed look and she doesn’t argue. “You went from considering him to be a burden to not letting him take care of you. Something doesn’t add up. My guess is you feel guilty, and your guilt is eating away at you. It’s not that you don’t want his help, but you don’t think you deserve it.”

  When she doesn’t argue, I continue. “I made a grave error and didn’t trust him, and now I’m not sure if we’re going to make it. But it’s not too late to save your relationship with him. He loves you and wants to help you, to take care of you. Please let him. Mason is the most selfless, caring man I’ve ever met. He loves with his entire heart, and despite it being broken by you over and over again, he still continues to love with that same broken heart, even if he won’t admit it.” Denise closes her eyes for a moment and I can see new tears leaking out.

  “The next time he comes to visit you, please let him in. Let him get you away from here. I know you’re pushing him away. Mother’s guilt. You couldn’t take care of him, so you don’t think you deserve for him to take care of you. Am I right?”

  Denise nods. “The only reason I came to him for help regarding Al, my pimp, was because he threatened me. He found out Mason was my son and said if I didn’t get Mason to help get him out, he would take away all my clients. I never wanted to ask Mason for anything. I don’t deserve it.” She begins to cry. “I failed him. I was his mother, and it was my job to take care of him and I didn’t, and they took him away.”

  Grabbing a chair, I pull it next to her bed and take her hand in mine. As a mother I can understand where she’s coming from. “Maybe so, but I lost both my parents and would give anything to have them back. You and Mason still have each other. All he ever wanted to do was take care of you. All you have to do is let him. Love him and let him love you back. You can’t change the past, but you can put your pride and guilt aside and let him in now.

  “Mason’s going to come in here expecting you to push him away once again. Just like you’ve been doing since he was old enough to help you. For once, put your son first. As a mother, you’re right. You failed your son. But you’re getting a chance to make it right. Please, make it right.”

  I stand back up and walk to the door and Denise calls my name. “Are you going to make it right?”

  “I sure as hell hope so. Maybe I’ll see you in LA.”

  I leave and go to the cafeteria like I always do. I have a few hours before my car arrives to take me to the airport. Just as I’m finishing my second coffee and about to head downstairs, Tristan sits down across from me.

  “I’ve seen you here every day.” He raises his eyebrows, daring me to deny it.

  “Has Mason?”

  “I’m not sure. He’s been all over the place. I was worried if he didn’t get his mom to leave this city he wouldn’t be able to focus on his upcoming fight. But funny thing…I saw you coming out of his mom’s room this morning and then while he was at the gym working out, he got a call from his mom asking him to come back. First time she’s called him willingly since she’s been here.”

  “And?”

  “And she agreed to let him help her.”

  “She’s going to California?”

  “Yep, he’s going to rent her a place once she’s cleared to leave. I’ll be bringing her myself since Mason needs to stay here.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad she’s giving him a chance to help her.”

  “Mason might not know you spoke to her, but thank you. Whatever you said worked. How much longer are you staying?”

  “I’m actually about to leave.”

  “Can I drive you to the airport?”

  “I’m okay, but thank you. Take care of Mason.”

  “Always.”

  Thirty-Nine

  Mila

  It’s been close to a week since I’ve returned home. Alec asked where Mason was and I used the excuse that he’s in Vegas preparing for his upcoming fight, which is the truth. He hasn’t called or texted me once. Mother’s day was last weekend and I did receive a beautiful bouquet of flowers from him with a note saying I’m a wonderful mom. I cried for a good thirty minutes.

  I hate that we’re at a standstill, but I know he needs to get ready for his fight. It’s his job and he doesn’t need any distractions. While doing the laundry yesterday, I came
across some papers pretty much confirming what I have suspected in regards to Mason and me. I wanted to call him and confront him, but decided it’ll be better to wait until we’re in person. His stuff is still at my house, so I’m assuming once he’s done with his fight, he’ll be back.

  To stay busy, I’ve been applying everywhere for jobs and I’m crossing my fingers I find one soon. I’ve also helped Mason’s mom get situated in her new place. Mason found a furnished condo for her to rent only a few minutes from where we live. Tristan has been by daily to check on her, bring her food and see if she needs anything. He knows I’ve been coming by to hang out with her, but I’ve asked him not to mention it to Mason. I don’t know where we stand and I don’t want to upset him. His mom is filled with guilt, and we talk a lot about what she’s been through, as well as what Mason went through. I mentioned that it might be a good idea for her to see a therapist and surprisingly she agreed. When I’m not looking for a job or visiting Denise, I’ve been hanging out with Charlie at the art studio, helping out. Her sister-in-law, Morgan, is due in two weeks, so she’s at home resting.

  But today I’m at Alec’s school for a special event. He wrote an essay for a writing contest at school and the parents were invited to hear their children read their essay. Gavin and I are sitting together in the auditorium along with several other parents, while Alec and his fellow classmates, who chose to enter the writing contest, are sitting on the stage. I’m so proud of him. I haven’t heard the essay yet, so I’m excited to hear who or what he wrote about.

  The principal speaks for a few minutes about the essay contest and tells everyone the topic was to write about the person you want to be like when you get older.

  Several kids are called up to read their essays, and they are so adorable. Finally it’s Alec’s turn. He comes up to the microphone and says, “My name is Alec Sterling, and I wrote my essay about three people: my mom, my dad, and my stepdad, Mason Street.”