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Fighting Attraction

Page 27

by Sarah Castille


  His words slice through my heart and coalesce into one. Worthless.

  The story of my life.

  * * *

  “Are you gonna be okay?” Ray holds my door as I step into my car outside Amanda’s office. Raindrops slide down his face, patter on his leather jacket, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

  “Yes. I’m fine.”

  “I’m worried about you.” His hand clenches around the top of the door. “Why don’t you come to my place? Sia’s making lasagna tonight…”

  “I don’t think I would be good company. I just want to go home.” My voice cracks, my emotions so raw I am afraid they will spill out all over the street. Ray is a good friend, but not the kind of person you want around when you’re having an emotional breakdown.

  “I’ll call you later,” he says, reluctantly. “Make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m a big girl, Ray. I’ve been through breakups before. In fact, I’ve been through worse and survived.”

  For the first few miles, after I drive away, I manage to keep it together. But then Adele’s “Someone Like You” plays over the radio, and I am utterly destroyed.

  Pulling into a gas station, I give myself over to emotion. Why did I think this relationship would be any different? Why did I think I would be different? I’m the same person. No matter how hard I try, I always screw up. I couldn’t please my father. I couldn’t make Adam happy. And now, I’ve betrayed the one person I wanted more than anything. All it would have taken was a few damn words…words I couldn’t say because I was trying to do the right thing.

  I start the car and drive through the rain. My normally cheery house is gray in the fading light, water streaming off the roof, trickling down the windows like tears.

  Inside, I toss my wet jacket in the hallway and make my way to the bedroom. Clarice follows me, silent on her little cat feet. It has been so long since I cut, I am halfway to the night table before I remember the ritual. Cat out. Clothes off. Towels, bandages, antiseptic. But what’s the point of going through all the motions? Why waste time?

  Clarice watches from the hallway as I strip down to my underwear and inspect my thighs. What a mess. Jack’s marks are everywhere, obliterating the scars on my legs, leaving no inch untouched. I look for my pain, and I see only him.

  “Fuck.” I turn from side to side, but he was thorough with his punishment. Finally, I find a small section of unmarked skin near my inner thigh. I trail my fingers over it, remembering the softness of Jack’s lips when he kissed me there, the rasp of his five-o’clock shadow, and the determination in his eyes when he made me promise that before I did this again, I would come to him.

  Promise me.

  Yes, I promised him. But curiously I don’t feel the urge to cut myself. The monsters are silent in my head. The darkness has given way to the light of the love he showed me when he marked my skin. I may have hurt him, but I had no other choice. It was a lose-lose situation from the start. At least I had a chance to tell him I loved him before I lost him and to feel his love returned to me.

  Ten minutes later I am in my vehicle driving through the night. The rain has stopped. Lights flash. Horns blare. Meghan Trainor’s “Like I’m Gonna Lose You” plays on the radio, and a curious calm settles over me. I know what I have to do.

  I pull my vehicle to a stop in the parking lot of the Twin Peaks lookout. High above the city, with an incredible view of the Golden Gate and Bay bridges, beneath the stars, I am utterly and blissfully alone.

  Pushing open my door, I am greeted with the scent of pine and a cool mountain breeze. Gravel crunches under my feet as I make my way to the low stone wall that separates the parking lot from the formidable drop into the valley below. Lights twinkle in the distance, lining the freeways, illuminating buildings and signs.

  I breathe in deep, place my hands on the cold stone wall, and ground myself in the darkness.

  Yes, the darkness is still with me. And I am at rock bottom all over again. It was bad with my father, worse with Adam, but now that I know what love really is, losing it is the worst of all.

  But the difference is that this time I had it. I gave it. And I believe in it. But more than that, I believe in myself.

  “Worthy,” I say into the stillness. “Not worthless.”

  I pull the little green plastic case from my pocket and throw it over the cliff. After I hear the soft thud, I pull Adam’s ring off my neck and throw it and the chain away, too. Adrenaline surges through my body, giving me the same rush I got the night I slit my wrist. I feel release and freedom. I feel no pain. It’s not over, but I’ve taken a step in the right direction. And now I will take another.

  I pull out my phone and call Cora. “It’s Penny,” I say. “Do you fancy a trip to LA?”

  * * *

  RAMPAGE

  2:30 a.m. I text Penny for the tenth time.

  2:35 a.m. I throw a few bills on the table and walk out of the all-night diner.

  2:45 a.m. I drive to Penny’s house.

  3:10 a.m. I arrive and park outside. Her lights are off. Her car is gone. I knock on the door, ring the bell, and peer into the window. Is she inside? Hurt? Bleeding? Will she ever forgive me for being such an ass? For the first time ever, I miss Clarice.

  3:15 a.m. I jog around the back of her house and check out her bedroom window. The curtains are open, and her bed is made. Where the fuck is she? Now that I’ve cooled down, I regret my overreaction. Yes, I wish she had told me, but I understand why she did what she did and how she tried her best to warn me without compromising her ethical responsibilities. My Penny has honor, which is more than I can say for most of the people I know, including me.

  3:25 a.m. I sit on the front steps to await her return.

  3:45 a.m. I mentally prepare to grovel and beg forgiveness. Rehearse a few lines out loud.

  4:00 a.m. I flip through the news on my phone, just in case something has happened.

  4:15 a.m. I check all the doors and windows for a way inside in case she is unconscious.

  4:30 a.m. I call the police to find out how long a person has to be missing before I can file a missing persons report.

  5:00 a.m. I call the local hospitals and ask if a woman matching Penny’s appearance has been brought in.

  5:30 a.m. I drive around the neighborhood looking for Penny’s car. My stomach is twisted in a knot. If she doesn’t show up at work, I don’t know what I will do. But when I find her, I will put her over my knee and spank the shit out of her for making me worry like this…right after I grovel for being an asshole and kiss her senseless.

  6:30 a.m. I arrive at Redemption. The gym is already packed. Torment is in his office. He has read the news article about my extracurricular activities. I brief him on my stupidity vis-à-vis Penny. He suggests I burn off some energy at the gym until eight o’clock when Penny starts work. I tell him to fuck off. He drags me out for a long run.

  8:00 a.m. I call Penny from Torment’s office. No answer.

  8:05 a.m. Ray, a.k.a. the Predator, storms into Torment’s office. Torment throws him out and suggests he try again with manners. Suitably chastised, the Predator knocks on the door. Torment beckons him in. The Predator crosses the room in two strides, pulls me out of the chair, and punches me in the face.

  8:06 a.m. Full-on fight in Torment’s office. Excellent way to relieve stress.

  8:16 a.m. Renegade arrives to help Torment pull us apart. Blade Saw, Homicide Hank, Fuzzy, and Obsidian gather outside to enjoy the show. Torment says we are an embarrassment to the club.

  8:30 a.m. Torment’s phone rings. Amanda is worried. She wants to know if the Predator knows where Penny is. She got a text from Penny saying she wouldn’t be coming to work for a couple of days. Penny is not answering calls.

  8:32 a.m. Breakdown.

  “Are you finished?” Torment glowers at me from behind the safety of his desk a
s I pause for breath after a full-on rampage around his office.

  “I have to find her.”

  The Predator snorts a laugh from the doorway. “Find her? She’s probably hiding from you, you fucking bastard. After what you pulled at the office, she’s probably gone and she won’t come back. She did what she had to do, and I can tell you it was killing her to keep that secret. And what do you do? You fucking give her grief for doing her job. You drag her through the mud because she chose to follow the rules. You broke her, and the minute we’re out of this office, I’m gonna make sure you pay for every hurt you dished out before I go get her.”

  It takes my brain a few seconds to process what he has just said. “You know where she is?”

  He gives me a smug look. “I can find anyone. And I’m gonna keep her far away from you.”

  There have been rumors floating around Redemption that the Predator was in the CIA. Of course, he has never admitted it, but now I am ready to believe, and if he can find Penny, he won’t be keeping that information from me.

  “Fucking bastard.” I grab the Predator around the neck and shove him against the wall. But the Predator is no lightweight, and he doesn’t fight by the rules. He knees me in the groin and head-butts me when I double over, replacing my emotional misery with excruciating physical pain.

  “You have other problems to deal with,” Torment says as I take a little breather on the floor and wonder if I’ll ever be able to stand up again. “We’ve got a team meeting tomorrow—your team—to do some damage control. Fierce fighters are good. Kinky fighters who whip women, not so much, especially in the South and Midwest. MEFC might even break your contract, and you’ll definitely lose sponsors…”

  “I don’t care.” I stagger to my feet. “I’ll deal with it after I find her.”

  The Predator folds his arms across his chest. “After I find her.”

  There is only one way to solve this dispute. I smack my fist into my palm and glare at the Predator. “Five minutes in the cage. If I win, I’m coming with you.”

  * * *

  PENNY

  Ricky’s Café in the University Hills district of Los Angeles is a typical college hangout. Cheap food, watered-down beer, a dodgy house band, and a youthful clientele—too youthful, from the number of underage students who have been turned away since Cora and I first sat down.

  “Adam is on his way.” I put down my phone and pick at the tortilla chips on the table. I am at once excited for and dreading our reunion. But after talking to Cora, I decided I need closure, and I need to understand what Adam and I had together so I can make sense of what I have lost with Jack and figure out a way to get him back.

  A group of students walks through the door, laughing about one of their professors. I feel a pang of nostalgia remembering my few short university days and the promise of a future that never came to be. I don’t know if I would have made a good lawyer. Over the years I have worked with Amanda, I have watched her struggle with some moral and ethical issues that I would never have wanted to face—the whole Gerry fiasco being one of them. And certainly I’ve never felt the kind of pride in my work as I did when I helped her rebrand her business. Maybe that’s where my heart lies and I’ve been chasing the wrong dream.

  “Can I throw a beer in his face?” Cora nurses her drink. She’s been stalking a sandy-haired doctor since we arrived, and she bet me twenty dollars she can get him out of his scrubs before we leave the city.

  “I think you’ve been hanging around Redemption too much. You never used to be violent.” I follow her gaze to the bar, where the object of her affection is toying with the stethoscope around his neck. It all seems a little too forced for me. Why couldn’t he change before he left the hospital? Why does he need his stethoscope in the bar?

  “I never had a bestie ask me to go with her to LA to confront her bastard of an ex.” She reaches across the table and gives my hand a squeeze. “I wish you’d told me all about him a long time ago, or at least when I was with Blade Saw. I would have snuck down here with a couple of the Redemption fighters and arranged for him to meet up with them in a dark alley.”

  “Now I know you’ve spent too long at Redemption.”

  She grins. “Maybe one day it will be me going all vigilante on some dude’s sorry ass.”

  “You don’t have to stick around when he comes in,” I say. “I mean, I’m sure there are other things you’d rather be doing…” I glance over at the doctor, who has been joined by a drop-dead-gorgeous friend.

  “Are you kidding me?” She stares at me, aghast. “I came on this road trip for you, babe. You shouldn’t have to face your ex alone, especially after what he did to you. You’re gonna get your closure, and then I’m going to help you forget Jack and start your new life with tequila shots and a couple of hot men.”

  “I don’t want to forget Jack. I want him back. He’s hurting, and I want to save him.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do. But after you rip your ex to shreds, we’ll have a couple of celebratory drinks, and spend the night getting to know the resident doctor and his friend in a very intimate way.”

  “What about Blade Saw?”

  Her smile fades. “I messed that one up in a pretty bad way. I wish I could turn back the clock and undo that conversation I had with him. He’s just so intense and protective, it kinda scared me away. I’ve never been with anyone like him. He gets my jokes. He likes my geek side. And he’s probably the first truly decent guy I’ve ever met…” Her voice trails off, and she gives me a nudge. “Is that Adam?”

  I look up as Adam walks toward us. Although he’s thinner than he was before and a goatee slightly darker than his sandy hair now covers his weak chin, he hasn’t changed much since I last saw him. Same rounded shoulders and awkward gait, same dark eyes, same lean frame, same charisma that has already drawn the attention of a few women in the bar.

  “Yes, that’s him.” I feel nothing as I watch him. No longing, no regret, none of the thrill I used to feel whenever I saw him. Too small, too weak, too pale. My taste now seems to run to big, muscular fighters with blond hair who know how to crack a whip.

  “Do we get to punch him now or later?” Cora curls her tiny hand into a fist, and I laugh, breaking the tension.

  “Never. We stick with the plan. I’ll introduce you, and then you make yourself scarce while I talk to him. I’ll text you if I need an out.”

  “I’ll apologize now in case I lose control of my fist.” She squeezes my leg as Adam stops at the table and smiles.

  “Penny.” He leans down and kisses my cheeks, British style. “I was so happy you called.”

  I introduce him to Cora, and she glares as she slides out of the seat beside me. “Don’t try that kissing thing with me,” she snaps as he leans forward to do just that. “I know about you, and I’m just waiting for an excuse to give it back.”

  I snort a laugh. Although no longer my type, Adam is a good-looking guy, and he’s not used to women brushing him off. With a puzzled glance for Cora, he slides into the seat across from me and reaches for my hand.

  “I’m not here to start anything, not even a friendship.” I pull my hand away, not wanting to waste any time. “I just wanted to talk.”

  Adam smirks, clearly not believing I could possibly want anything less than what we had before. After all, I almost killed myself over him, which would have done wonders for his already-huge ego.

  “Right, love. You drove all the way down here to talk. So, let’s talk. I can tell you about my field study about broken girls like you, and then we can go back to mine and—”

  “Did you love me at all?”

  His brow creases in a frown, and he shrugs. “Dunno. Maybe at first, although you were fucked in the head with all the cutting shit.” His mouth tightens in a thin line. “Why the fuck does it matter?”

  I slide my fingers over the scar on my wrist, remem
bering how utterly overwhelmed I was with grief. Lacking the ability to handle intense emotion, I did the only thing I knew how to do to relieve the pain. “I thought I loved you. I would have done anything for you. But I don’t think you ever really loved me. You don’t hurt the people you love. You don’t hit them. You don’t put them down. You don’t tell them they’re worthless.”

  His face hardens, his tight, angry expression so familiar a shiver runs down my spine. “What the fuck?” His hands ball into fists on the table. “Did you come here for a shag or to waste my fucking time? You want to hear the truth? Fine. The truth is no, I didn’t love you. But I put up with your fucked-up shit because you were a good lay and I needed someone to cook and clean for me. And then you got into law school and started thinking you were better than me, so I had to keep reminding you of your fucking place. You didn’t seem to understand that you were so broken no one else would have you. But were you grateful I took pity on you? No. You gave me attitude, and I gave it right back.”

  His words and his demeanor don’t surprise me, but my reaction does. I imagined this moment countless times over the years. I imagined shouting at him, throwing a drink in his face, punching him the way he punched me. But now that the moment is here, I feel nothing. No sadness. No fear. No anger. No burning need for vindication or revenge. He has confirmed what I always knew. I said what I had to say. And I know now what we felt for each other wasn’t love. Because I’ve felt love, and it takes my breath away.

  “Thank you for still being a right bastard.” I wrap my hand around my glass, contemplate tossing the drink in his face just to make Cora smile. “Because if you’d had even a shred of decency, I would never have come to America. I would never have changed my life. And I would never have fallen in love.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” he mutters.

  “She’s talking about me.”

 

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