Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel

by Ashley Suzanne

  “Yeah, Colton, I’m good. You can go back inside,” she responds, never breaking eye contact with me.

  “I’ll just wait on the porch for you,” he says, and I snap.

  “Listen, bro. She’s fine. I’m not going to hurt her. I just got a few things I need Josette to clear up,” I boom. I look up from Josette and see the man starting to walk my way and that’s the second I recognize him.

  “Colt,” I sneer, curling up my lip as I look back to her. “Seriously? That fucking asshole? That’s who you decide to start fucking as soon as I’m gone? Wow, Josette. Just fucking wow.”

  I back away and raise my head to look back at him. “I fucked you up once before, dude. Don’t make me do it again.” That’s the second he recognizes who I am, and I can tell by his body language he’s confused. One part wants to advance, give it back to me as good as I gave him all those years ago, and the other part knows I fucked him up when I was nothing but a hundred and fifty pounds, and there’s a lot more I can do with the extra fifty pounds of muscle I’ve put on since he saw me last. I’m sure he’s seen me fight. I’m not the emotional kid I used to be, and he’s not in the best shape of his life. He’s as good as dead if he takes another step.

  “You should go, Cutter,” Josette whispers.

  “I guess so. Looks like he got what he wanted all along, huh? Did he get to bend you over the desk and fuck you in nothing but your heels?”

  “Cutter,” she snaps. “Enough. It’s not like that.”

  “Sure as fuck looks like that. You’re coming home from work to him. Probably cooking dinner for him and going to bed with him. That’s cool, Jo. You’re free to fuck whoever the hell you want. I’m out.” I thrust my hands in the air, palms raised toward the sky. “I’m fucking done. Take care of yourself, Jo.” Leaning in close, our noses almost touching, I whisper one last thing to her. “But he doesn’t take care of my kid. You do what the fuck you want, but none of this fake-ass family bullshit, not with Bethany.”

  She reaches out for me, as if she wants to pull me back, but drops her hands to her sides. I can’t believe I ever gave a shit about her when she clearly only cares about herself. There’s no damn way she’s gone through as much as she’s put me through in the last twenty-four hours. I wanted to mend fences, make a connection with my kid, maybe, possibly, see if there was anything left for us together, but I can’t be associated with a selfish bitch like her, not after having known such selfless people as Garrett and Rian.

  As I walk back down the driveway, the screen door slams shut and I assume it’s Colt going back into his house with what should have been my woman. Then a little voice stops me dead in my tracks.

  “My mommy,” a little girl squeals, her voice reminding me of what Gregory’s used to sound like when he was a toddler. I know immediately it’s Bethany. I want to go to her. I want to hold her. I want to smell her perfect little head. I want to be her dad.

  Shaking my head, “Fuck this,” I mutter, and rush to the porch. Josette glares at me with a warning in her eyes and Colt stands off to the side, unsure of his role. If I had my way, he’d have no fucking role.

  “Hi, baby girl. How’s Mommy’s baby?” Josette picks up Bethany and dips her head into Bethany’s little neck, and all I see is green. Green, hot jealousy.

  Bethany’s eyes scan me, and she looks back and forth between me and Josette. Pointing her dainty little finger in my direction, she smiles and asks a question. “Who, Mommy?”

  A perfect little angel. My heart recognizes her immediately, just as it did when I saw her at Rian’s, seeing my features in her face and a pair of eyes identical to mine staring in my direction. God, this girl is perfect.

  “That’s Mommy’s old friend Cutter, baby girl. Can you say, ‘Hi, Cutter’?”

  “Hi, Cuddo,” Bethany whispers, trying my name on for size.

  I take a moment to relish my daughter saying my name, then realize she’s saying my given name when she should be calling me Daddy. “Friend, Jo?”

  She doesn’t say it out loud, but her mouth and eyes clearly scream, Oh fuck as she sets Bethany down.

  “Yeah. You’re right.” Turning to my daughter on the front porch, I soften my expression so I won’t scare her and switch my tone. “Mommy said I can stay for dinner. Would you like that?”

  The little girl’s face lights up, and Josette’s falls. Colt, standing stupidly on the porch, looks to Josette for answers she isn’t giving him. And me—I put on a smug smile and start up the stairs, past Josette. When I get to the porch, I turn to Colt and give him his final warning. “I’ll take it from here, dude. Thanks for looking out for my kid, but you’re no longer needed.”

  “Josette?” he asks, seeking her approval to stay.

  “Just go on and go, Colt. Thanks for getting her from Drea, but it looks like I’ve got some things to take care of tonight.”

  Nodding, he carefully steps around me and pauses by Josette, placing a kiss on her cheek. All I want to do is tackle him and rip off his head, but I remain in place. He gets into a pickup truck and squeals his tires as he rounds the corner out of Josette’s neighborhood. Well, as pissed as I am that fucker’s here playing house with my kid, it’s a relief to know he doesn’t live here, too.

  Bethany runs into the house and Josette walks past me, stops when she’s a few stairs above me, and turns around, looking me dead in the eye. All the fear she was feeling has been replaced by a protective look in her stare. “If you scare her, make her sad, or God forbid make her cry, I’ll fucking kill you.” Josette’s voice comes out low so Bethany doesn’t hear, but it’s a definite warning, nonetheless.

  “Calm the hell down,” I say, moving to pass her, and she steps in my way.

  “You’re a lot bigger than me and won’t have much issue getting past me, but I promise you this, Cutter. If you hurt my child, I’ll gut you like a fucking fish. You don’t get in my home until you give me your word.”

  As much as I want to snatch her up and flip out because she’s hidden my child from me this long, I can’t help but feel all kinds of pride about how protective she is of this little girl. There’s no doubt in my mind she’s dead serious. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I squeeze gently and soften my features and tone the same way I did with the little girl.

  “I’d never hurt her, Jo. I’m pissed as hell, but she’s a kid. My kid. I won’t scare her. I won’t make her uncomfortable. And obviously she doesn’t know I’m her father, and I won’t push it just yet either. I need to get to know her before you drop that bomb. And yes, you will be the one to do it, but not tonight. Breathe and introduce me to my daughter.”

  Together, Josette and I step inside the house and I follow her into the kitchen. The tiny blonde is standing on the counter reaching for what looks like a kid’s plate and cup set with princesses all over it. I step behind the little girl, lift her up a little higher so she can reach what she’s going for, and then place her on the floor.

  “Thank you,” she whispers, obviously nervous with a stranger being in her home. “You sit by me.” I help by setting the plate on the table in the eat-in kitchen, she smiles up at me, and again, her eyes confirm everything Josette never told me. This little girl belongs to me.

  Josette comes around the island and places the inner shell of a slow cooker on a mat in the center of the table. Scooping some meat onto our plates, she follows it up with vegetables and walks back into the small kitchen area. “What would you like to drink?” she asks me, but the little girl answers.

  “Milk, Mommy. Please…” She pauses and turns to me, probably having forgotten my name.

  “Cutter,” I respond weakly over the lump in my throat.

  “Me and Cutter want milk. Fank you.” Josette looks up at me for approval and I nod. I’m pretty sure if this little girl said I wanted battery acid, I’d agree too. I don’t even know her middle name and I’m wrapped around her finger.

  I wait until both the girls take their seats before taking my own. I grab the salt a
nd pepper, generously season my meal, and just listen to mother and daughter talk about their day.

  “What color card did you get today?” Josette asks.

  “Red,” the little girl mutters, looking down at her plate, then picking up a carrot and popping it in her mouth.

  “Bethany Lorna Greer! What for this time?”

  Bethany Lorna Greer. Her name is Bethany Lorna fucking Greer. My daughter has my name. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Smiling like a kid on Christmas morning, I continue to listen in on their private conversation.

  “Billy sayed girls stink. I don’t stink,” she says indignantly, then spills the beans as to why she got in trouble. “I knocked over his Legos and kicked ’em.” Luckily, Bethany lowers her head, so she doesn’t see me start to chuckle so hard I nearly spit my milk across the room. Looking over at Bethany, I see that her little face is so serious. She really means it. I glance at Josette and see she’s also fighting back laughter, the inside of her cheek sucked between her molars, biting down hard enough to keep her face straight.

  “Bethany, you have to follow directions and be a good girl. How are you going to be ready for preschool if you keep getting red cards?”

  “This isn’t the first time?” I quietly ask, leaning into Josette. Her side eye and tight lips are answer enough. Apparently, our daughter is a little hellion.

  “I going to the zoo tomorrow, remember, Mommy?”

  “I remember, baby.”

  “I wear my pink dress. Don’t forget.”

  “I swear I won’t, Bethany.”

  “And pretty hair.”

  “I know, honey.”

  I honestly don’t want to interrupt their conversation, but I really want to talk to Bethany, too. It’s odd, because I feel like I’m a kid again, fighting for attention. I really need to get my shit in order. “I’m an old friend of your Mommy’s. We used to be best friends when we were younger,” I say, giving Bethany, who probably doesn’t comprehend any of this, a little background information on how I might fit into her perfect little bubble. “Your mommy was the best video game player I ever met.”

  “Video games are for boys,” Bethany snarls.

  “Nope. Anyone can play video games, baby,” Josette says, and the rest of the conversation starts freely flowing.

  “And she was the prettiest girl I’d ever met,” I offer, making Josette’s cheeks pinken.

  “Just like me. I’m Mommy’s pretty girl.”

  Smiling back at Bethany, I nod. “Yes, you are the most beautiful. Absolutely perfect.”

  Underneath the table, Josette grabs hold of my hand and squeezes. Somehow, I peel my eyes from my daughter and look over at Josette, who has tears in her eyes and the biggest smile on her face.

  “Absolutely perfect,” I whisper to Josette, and a tear slips from the corner of her eye.

  Thank you, she silently mouths.

  “No, thank you,” I softly respond, squeezing her hand in return, and look back to Bethany, who is completely oblivious, picking away at her dinner.

  Chapter 15

  Josette

  My heart can’t handle how amazing he is with her. I’m sure, at any point, it’s going to burst at the seams. I can’t even control my leaking eyes when I watch them interact. So effortlessly, he’s able to swoop in and make a connection with the most important person in my life. Even after a year, she’s never been this animated with Colton. Maybe she feels something deeper with Cutter? Maybe somewhere deep down inside of her soul, she recognizes him as her father? I have no idea how any of this works, but I couldn’t be any happier.

  I know I have some groveling to do, but right at this second, holding Cutter’s hand under the table, watching him with Bethany, everything is perfect. My life is complete.

  Bethany finally finishes picking at her dinner, and while I clear the plates and put everything in the dishwasher, she and Cutter escape into the living room as I finish up. Giving them a little private time, I go ahead and clean the whole kitchen and when everything’s back where it should be, I tiptoe into the living room to find both of them sitting at her toddler-sized table, Cutter looking absolutely ridiculous in the miniature chair.

  Leaning against the door frame, I listen to Cutter telling Bethany how she has to be good at daycare and make her teachers proud. She’s nodding enthusiastically to his gentle critiques, and it appears to be sinking in. I feel a little pang of jealousy, as he’s telling her the same things I have all year, but he’s getting through to her.

  “I hate to interrupt, but I’ve gotta get little Miss Bethany in the shower,” I interject before they have time to switch to a new topic.

  “Tea party, Mommy,” she whines, and I shake my head.

  “Well, maybe we can finish the party later. You’ve gotta get cleaned up and in bed, Bethy-girl. Come on,” I say, waving my arm wide toward the bathroom, and with a huff and puff, she climbs out of her seat and gives Cutter a hug.

  “You come back again?” she asks, looking up at him with her eyes as big as his.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he responds, and my heart melts right out of my rib cage.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell Cutter, following Bethany down the hall and starting her shower. Once she’s inside, playing with the toys she demanded to have with her, I step out, leaving the door open, to talk to Cutter.

  Walking back into the living room, I catch Cutter staring at all the pictures I’ve had taken of Bethany over the years. He starts at one end of the wall, where her newborn pictures are, then slowly moves down the line until he reaches the pictures of us at the beach this past summer. After he reaches the end, he goes back to the beginning and starts again.

  “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” I ask, breaking the silence and startling him.

  “How could you not tell me, Jo?” he asks.

  The only thing I can give him is honesty. “I already told you, but I get why you keep asking. It wasn’t easy for me, Cutter. No matter what you think or were thinking, I didn’t have any help. I was on my own. I really thought I was doing exactly what was right for everyone. I never once thought I was hurting you. I wouldn’t do that, especially not to you.”

  “I’ve missed so much and didn’t even know it,” he murmurs to himself.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around my middle and taking a seat on the arm of the couch. “I was trying to do the right thing, and by the time I wanted to tell you, it seemed like it was too late. I haven’t talked to Garrett and Rian since Bethany was a few months old.”

  “Wait. They knew?” he asks, whipping around, face red with anger.

  “No. Oh God, no. They would have never kept that from you. You know that. I texted Rian one night when I saw online that you were getting a real fight. I was so excited, and she was the only one I knew who would be excited with me. We talked for a few minutes, I assured her I was doing well, and then I never texted her again. I even changed my phone and made sure I deleted her from my contacts so I wouldn’t be tempted to call her. I was scared.”

  He nods, then goes back to surveying the pictures on the wall, carefully taking in each one—committing to memory each subtle change, and the not-so-subtle ones.

  “Do you want to stay and put her to bed with me?” I ask, feeling more guilty than I ever have about stealing away from Cutter all of those memories I cherish so much.

  “Do you mind?”

  “Absolutely not. Let me go pluck the little princess from the shower and get her into her pajamas. We’ll be out in a second. Make yourself at home.”

  On the walk to the bathroom, I can’t believe how surreal it feels to have Cutter in my home—my little, tiny three-bedroom house. One bedroom is too small to even use as an office, but I do. The bathroom is fit for the tiniest of people, but the house is the coziest place I’ve ever been. This little home is perfect for Bethany and me. Now Cutter, who has muscle growing on top of muscle and seems like a giant compared to the kid I’d last seen, is
here, in our safe place. And I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t still so in love with him it makes my knees weak, and watching him with our daughter only makes me fall more in love with him. This can’t end well.

  “Hey there, Bethy-girl. You ready to get out?”

  “Yep. See.” She spins around in a circle and I can’t help but laugh, noticing the obvious places she missed. I open the curtain more and quickly run a washcloth over her small body to make sure she’s really clean. As usual, she stands under the spray, wetting her hair, and I grab the two-in-one shampoo from the rack and wash and rinse her long blond locks.

  Shutting off the water and wrapping her in a towel, I pick up Bethany and take her to her bedroom to dress her in her favorite pajamas. I pat her hair dry and within minutes under the blow dryer, her hair is dried and lying beautifully down her back.

  “Do you mind if Cutter stays for stories?” I ask, wanting to make sure she’s okay with someone else getting in on our special time together.

  “I like him. Can we have Daddy Bear book?”

  “Of course,” I whisper into her hair as I kiss the top of her head, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill. I pull her nightgown over her head, and it’s barely to her ankles when she’s running out of the room, calling for Cutter.

  Pushing myself up her bed, I snatch the book from her nightstand and place my back to her headboard. Seconds later, Bethany and Cutter come strolling into the room hand in hand. Bethany runs to the bed, bounces on the mattress until she’s in her spot right next to me, and scoots extra close to leave a spot for Cutter.

  “You can sit here. I scooched to Mommy. There’s room!” she squeals, then nestles under the covers, pulling them up to her chin and waiting for Cutter to join us. He looks to me for approval and I nod and jerk my head to the side, also requesting his presence.

  He takes his rightful spot next to Bethany, and I’ve never been happier that I opted for the full-sized bed versus the twin-sized. I open the book and begin reading. Each time Daddy Bear speaks, Bethany looks to Cutter for him to complete the dialogue, and after clearing his throat, he deepens his voice and gives a perfect portayal of Daddy Bear. Much better than I could have ever done.