by J B Heller
“Of course, Miss Haynes, this way,” he tells me, then starts down another long passageway, “When we reach the crowd stay behind me, it’s pretty hectic in there right now.”
I swallow, feeling apprehensive for the first time since I realised what an idiot I was for sending Carter away. My hands tangle in the back of Arnold’s black T as he pushes his way through throngs of people cheering and yelling. I poke my head around his side and catch a flash of skin flying through the air in the ring. My eyes widen when I realise that was Carter being tossed around like a ragdoll.
“CARTER,” I scream so loud my throat hurts, but I can’t stop. “Get up, baby! Get up!”
Arnold leads me to a front row seat that’s partitioned off from the rest of the crowd, and I climb up on it so I can see better. Carter is down and his opponent has him in a headlock, “Carter, get up, baby!” I scream again.
Carter blinks slowly, as though he can’t believe it’s actually me he’s looking at, so I yell again, “Come on, baby! Get up for me, Carter! GET. UP!”
Something changes in his expression, then in a flash of movement their positions are reversed. Carter is now pinning his opponent in a position I can’t even begin to describe, but it looks painful. The crowd cheers. CRUSH ‘IM, CRUSH ‘IM, CRUSH ‘IM, they chant. Then the referee begins the count again, and I can feel my heartbeat in my veins as he slaps his hand on the mat three times, signalling the end of the round.
I’m a little shocked when Carter extends a hand to help the other guy up before they back into their opposite corners. I can’t focus on the act for long as I notice a big gash that cuts through his left brow, blood trickles down the side of his face, and his lip is busted too. My eyes roam his body, cataloguing his injuries. Split brow, busted lip, back eye, red welts blooming on his right side.
Trick squirts water into Carter’s mouth as he talks to him, and I watch Carter swirl the water around before spitting it in a bucket. Then his eyes meet mine again, and he mouths, “My second Chance,” and I feel his words as though he’s right beside me, despite the distance separating us.
I smile and nod back, but before I can say anything, his attention is pulled back to the moment, and the next round begins. I catch site of Mase standing beside Trick in Carter’s corner, then someone I didn’t expect to see steps up beside them as they engage in a heated discussion, all the while keeping one eye on the ring.
My eyes flick from Carter, bouncing around the ring on his toes, to Trick, Mase and, I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around it, but Cole. Then it hits me, the resemblance between Cole and Trick is uncanny. I don’t have the luxury of telling Cole off for being a sneaky bastard right now as the sound of bodies slamming together pulls my focus back to the ring.
The whole time, my heart is in my throat, I feel every hit he takes, and cheer with each one he blocks or dodges. But when his fists, knees or feet connect with the other guy, I can’t stop myself from flinching. I try not to, I do, but with each one he lands, my stomach turns further and further into itself. I manage not to vomit though, so I’m counting that as a win.
This continues for two more rounds, and by the end of it, both men are bloody and bruised, heaving for air. I have no idea what the outcome will be. I don’t know how points are scored and from where I’m sitting, it looked like they were pretty evenly matched in skill and agility.
I hold my breath as the ref comes to stand between them, taking their wrists in hand he pauses, then lifts Carter’s arm into the air, proclaiming him the winner. I jump back up onto my seat and cheer for him. He shakes his opponents hand briefly, then ducks out of the ring and rushes toward me.
Tears fill my eyes when he wraps his hands around my hips and presses his lips to my stomach, before lifting me in the air then throwing me over his shoulder as he strides out of the arena.
He carries me through a labyrinth of walkways and into a room with his name on the door, then slams it behind him before dropping me on my unsteady feet. I blink up at him, “I’m sorry,” I start, but that’s as far as I get in my apology, as Carter covers my mouth with his and backs me against the door.
My hands tangle in his sweat drenched hair and I cling to him.
She came for me. She fucking came here for me.
I silence her apology with my lips. I don’t need her to apologies, not now, not ever. I already made up my mind before I saw her standing there cheering for me, I’m done with fighting. I thought I needed it to get through the day, but I don’t. What I need is My Girl.
She’s giving me a second chance, and I’m not going to blow it.
Prying my lips from hers. I look into her gleaming eyes and cup her tear stained cheeks. “I’m done, that was my first and last fight. It’s not worth it. I’ve found a better way to deal with my issues. You, baby. You bring me peace. I need you more than I need anything else in this world. Including fighting.”
She shakes her head, “You don’t have to do that. I love you, and my love shouldn’t come with conditions. I’m so, so sorry,” she sobs.
Gripping her cheeks harder, I wait for her eyes to meet mine again, “Don’t you dare apologise. If I wasn’t such a stubborn prick I would have realised it in the beginning. I’m the one who should be saying sorry. And I am, My Girl, so damn sorry.”
Chance sniffles, “But what will you do now? This is your career, your passion. I can’t make you give that up for me.”
I smile and drop a quick kiss on her perfect lips, “You aren’t making me do anything, you should know by I don’t do anything I don’t want to,” then I shrug, “I have an idea of what I’d like to do, it will mean going back to school for a bit, but that’s okay.”
Her eyes light with interest, “Oh yeah, like what?”
“It doesn’t matter right now, what matters is you’re back in my arms where you belong,” I tell her, then go back to kissing her like my life depends on it. Even though my busted lips protest, I can’t stop. I never want to stop kissing My Girl.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay angry with me for just a little bit longer,” Chance whispers in my ear, “I hear angry sex is the bomb.”
And just like that, everything else falls away as I hoist her up until she wraps her legs around my waist. “We don’t need angry sex, My Girl, sex between us is already explosive, especially since it’s been a while,” I grin.
Chance rolls her eyes, “Horndog.”
My smile falls, and I blink slowly, “Always for you baby, always,” I say, and I thank god she’s wearing a skirt, as I free my cock from my shorts and move her underwear to the side, sliding inside her wet heat in one long, deep stroke.
“Damn, I love that you still have your weird style,” Carter says, as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind, tugging my back into his front.
I glance up at his perfect face over my shoulder, “What’s weird about this?” I ask, then look down at my outfit. It’s not that bad, I don’t think.
He chuckles against my neck, peppering it with kisses as he speaks, “Baby, you’re wearing a long sleeve, thigh length dress,” he pauses, “That’s covered in cats. It’s weird. But I love you, even in the weird dress.”
Well, I thought it was cute but whatever, I like it and I really don’t care what anyone else thinks, except maybe Carter. I run my hands down over the fabric enjoying the feel against my palms until I come to Carter’s hands and I slide my fingers between his, “So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask.
“Nope,” he says then he spins me around to face him, “Now get your shoes on, it’s time to go.”
Carter went back to school and took the necessary classes to get a degree in special education after his one and only fight. He is now a counsellor at a newly opened centre for people with Down Syndrome. He helps families come to terms with what it means to have a child with the disability, and is very involved in community awareness programs.
I’m so proud of the man he has become, and the way he turned his
pain and frustration into a positive by helping others to see how blessed they are to have someone with Down Syndrome in their lives.
Bella is an amazing young woman who has taken steps to pursue a career in modelling since our first shoot a few years ago. She is an ambassador for youth with Down Syndrome and speaks publicly at schools and conferences about the opportunities that are there, if you have the courage to purse them.
My heart is so full of love for my family, I don’t know how I could possibly be any happier.
We pull up out the front of a government looking office and I turn to Carter, confused. I thought he was taking me on a surprise date or something. “What are we doing here?”
His smile becomes nervous, “You know how we spoke about fostering to adopt instead of having our own children?” he says cautiously.
“Yes,” I reply, careful not to get too carried away before he tells me exactly what is going on.
Carter reaches across the centre console and takes my hands with his, twining our fingers together, “I know we discussed it as something we would do in the future, when the time was right,” he pauses, swallowing hard, “But sometimes things happen and the right time comes to you when you least expect it.”
I nod, thinking back to the day Carter became a part of my life and I smile, “Yeah, I know.”
He glances at the building we’re parked in front of then, back to me. “Well, My Girl, I got a call from Child Services yesterday, a little girl was left at the fire station over on Fifth street and she needs a home. They called me because I had previously mentioned our desire to foster,” he says.
Happy tears fill my eyes, and I grab my door handle, “Well let’s go, where is she? That building is depressing, we have to get her out of there,” I tell him.
But he pulls my hand back, “I love your enthusiasm, My Girl, but you need to know, she has Down Syndrome, she was left with a letter from her parents noting her date of birth and a few details they had about her disability.”
My heart sinks, and I cover my mouth with my hand, “They didn’t want her because of her Down Syndrome?” I ask, and when Carter nods, it steels my resolve, “Then they don’t deserve her,” I tell him. I don’t need to hear any more. I swing my door open and get out of the car. “Well, what are you waiting for?” I ask a stunned Carter, who is staring at me from the driver’s seat.
He shakes his head, then climbs out of the car too, both of us slamming our doors at the same time. We hold hands as we enter the sterile building and go through the mountains of paperwork required to become our mystery girl’s official foster parents.
Her biological parents hadn’t even taken the time to give her a name, which sent me into a fit of anger. Carter however remained calm. “How are you not outraged right now?” I ask him.
He shrugs, “Because I know she will have a better life with us then with a family who can’t appreciate the gift they’ve been given,” he says coolly.
And just like that, my anger evaporates. He’s right.
When we leave Child Services, Carter drives us straight to a Target store where we purchase everything we think we might need for a new born baby. A cot, a car seat, nappies, wipes, bottles, and a bunch of warm clothes. Carter also picked up a couple of extra things he said she would need to help her breathing if she has difficulties at night time.
We arrive at the hospital exactly one hour after leaving Child Services. Excitement and trepidation fill my chest. Will I be a good mother? I know without a doubt that Carter will be an amazing father to this little girl. But when we’re ushered into a room with only one tiny clear bassinet in the middle of it, and my eyes land on the precious little bundle wrapped up inside, all my fears fall away.
She is perfect. I can’t imagine how anyone could look at her and not fall in love at first sight. Quickly, I pull out my phone and google girl names that mean perfect. Results fill the screen, and I scroll through until the right one practically leaps off the page, Arieanna.
“What are you doing?” Carter asks me, looking over my shoulder, and I pass him my phone as I stare down at our new baby girl. “Arieanna, meaning powerful, perfect, and complete,” he reads under his breath, then looks at our beautiful girl, sleeping soundly. Smiling, he murmurs, “Arieanna, it’s perfect.”
It’s in this very moment, when Carter’s eyes find mine, that I see my life with blinding clarity. This is where I’m supposed to be. Right here, with Carter and our new baby girl, Arieanna. This is what we are supposed to do. All this time it was right in front of us, and we never saw it. We have enough love to share with many more children like Arieanna, and I know that’s exactly what we’re going to do.
We had to wait two more days to take Arieanna home, and it felt like forever. We took turns staying at the hospital with her while the other would go home, shower, and get things organised for her arrival.
We brought her home yesterday, and today everyone has come to meet her. Vivian is first to arrive, at nine A.M. on the dot. I smile as I open the door for her and she embraces, “Where is my grandbaby?” she asks trying to look behind me.
I chuckle, “Getting a fresh nappy, Chance will bring her out soon,” I tell her.
Next is Bella, I hug her tight when she enters, “Hey Princess,” I say and she rolls her eyes at me, apparently, she’s too old to be called Princess now that she’s an Aunt.
“Where’s the baby?” she asks excitedly.
Stepping out of the door way so she can look past me I tell her, “With her new Mumma.” I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to calling Chance that, but it suits her. The way she dotes on Arieanna and the fiercely protective love she has for her, you would never know that Ari isn’t our biological child.
Tears fill Bella’s eyes, “She’s so tiny and perfect,” she sniffles.
Propping the door open with a stopper I wrap one arm around my sister’s shoulders, “I know, I think so too. How about we introduce her to her Aunty Bells?” Bella’s eyes go wide and we make our way over to the couch sitting on Chance’s other side.
Vivian raises a brow at Bella, “I’m holding her first, I’m her Granma, that beats Aunty,” she chuckles, and so does Bella.
While Bella and Vivian squabble good naturedly about who is going to hold Ari first Hux, El and Kass arrive, then Mase and Scout. The latter two arriving together. I waggle my brows at Mase and he shakes his head adamantly, so I let it slide until I can get him alone.
For now, I’m content to sit here and take in my family. We are a mismatched bunch, held together with super-glue and love but we are a family. And I’m so grateful to My Girl for making it possible.
The next book in the series will follow Mase, Scout and Kassidy.
I didn’t know I was going to write a book for Chance until I finished Hux and Eliza’s. Chance had such a small roll in their book, but a very powerful one. And I wanted to explore how it would affect her to know how pivotal her existence was for her father and brother.
The woman Chance became really spoke to me, she is strong, courageous and an inspiration to me, and I hope to others also.
If you could take a minute to leave a review, I would really appreciate it. Also, I’ve got this pretty awesome support group on Facebook, JB’s Junkies, I’d love to have you there, www.facebook.com/groups/jbsjunkies
Thanks for reading,
Jemma
I have to thank my incredible PA Anastasia Austin, without her constant encouragement, support and let’s be honest- occasionally bossing me around, this book wouldn’t have been written in a timely manner. She picks up my slack and pushes me to be better. So, thank you Ana, the day you entered my life things got a lot easier.
My girl Liz Lovelock is always there to help me out whenever I need her. Be it writers block, a plot hole or just everyday motherly issues, Liz is always there. You are my rock and I’ll forever be grateful for your friendship.
And to you, my readers, I wouldn’t even be here right now if it wasn’t for you. I never im
agined I’d be publishing my 11th book and prepping for my 12th and 13th. You’ve made my dream career a reality and I can never thank you enough.
All my love and gratitude,
Jemma
JB Heller is an average Aussie housewife in her late 20’s with a wicked sexy imagination. She and her awesome husband are the parents of three wicked cool little minions, two Great Danes and a Cat who thinks she’s a person, a Scaly Breasted Lorikeet, two randy Peachface Lovebirds and a Fig Parrot.
She spends her days running around after her children and jotting down stories in her flower embossed leather notebook (She is very particular about her stationery.). She’s a self-confessed Stationery Addict who is constantly on the lookout for more even though she has boxes of blank notebooks just waiting for their purpose to be revealed.
Most day’s JB can be found glued to her laptop, taking advantage of school hours- writing as fast as she can while she can. Or trolling Pinterest for her next potential muse. And when she needs a break from the voices in her head she indulges in her favourite past time, reading.
Want to know more about JB? Check her out, you’ll be guaranteed a good laugh if nothing else.
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