Breaking Down

by Megan Lowe

  “Mraow,” she says again, her tail starting to flick.

  I glance at the clock and see it’s her dinner time. “She wants food,” I tell him. “It’s her d-i-n-n-e-r time.”

  “She can wait,” he says, as he continues to pound into me. Still, Buttons sits and watches, her unwavering glare unnerving the shit out of me. I know any sort of orgasm is going to be a long time coming.

  “Jax, dude,” I say, covering his hand that’s currently digging into my hip, “just stop. It’s not going to happen.”

  He blows out a breath, pulls out of me, and rolls to his back. “Cockblocked by my own cat.”

  I get up and pull on my clothes, turning back to Jax, who is starfished on the bed, his semihard cock still out. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” he says, motioning to his manhood.

  “Take care of it yourself,” I say. “Come on, Buttons,” I yell as I walk towards the kitchen. “Let’s give Daddy some privacy, and get you some dinner.”

  A couple of minutes later, Buttons is fed and a flaccid Jax walks into the kitchen.

  “Better?” I ask as he takes me in his arms, my back to his front.

  “Nah, didn’t seem right, me getting off while you fed the cat. I just had to think of some really disturbing mental images.”

  “Aww,” I coo, “poor dude.”

  “Too fucking right,” he says. “I’m pretty sure guys have died from blue balls before.”

  “It was one time,” I say, patting his hand. “I think you’ll live.”

  “Or,” he says, walking us back towards the bedroom, “we could pick up where we left off.”

  “Actually,” I say, “ I have some stuff I need to work on for Lisa.”

  “What sort of stuff?” Jax asks, curious.

  I turn so I’m facing him. “She has this idea to build an animal shelter. We get so many abandoned animals come through the clinic, and the RSPCA and Animal Welfare league are always beyond capacity, so she thought maybe we’d open our own.”

  “Won’t that be kind of full-on? And expensive?”

  “Probably. But if we can get someone to sponsor the shelter, they would take care of most of the costs. Plus, we would keep it somewhat exclusive, you know, to maybe one or two types of animals.”

  “So it could be only cats or something?” he asks.

  “Yeah. That way we wouldn’t need too wide a variety of stuff.”

  “I like that idea,” he says, smiling.

  “I do too, but….”

  “But what?”

  “Finding someone to sponsor the shelter and donate the kind of money we need to get it up and running is going to be tough. Like, really tough.”

  “Your parents—” he starts.

  “My parents made their feelings more than clear when it comes to me and my well-being,” I say, stepping out of his arms. “Besides, there’s no way I’d ever go to them with something like this. If they don’t want anything to do with me, then I don’t want anything to do with them,” I say, with a bit more venom than I intended.

  “Maybe I could ask Dean,” Jax says. I shoot him a look. “Yeah, okay, maybe not.”

  I shrug. “It’s not urgent. At the moment it’s just an idea,” I say, even though I want this to happen. Badly.

  “Hmm, right,” Jax says, and I can tell he sees right through my act.

  Here we are, two people whose families could give us the world, but took it away right when we needed it.

  Chapter 28

  Jax

  I know Bentley wants that shelter, and I know she wants it badly. I wish I could give it to her, but I just don’t know how. What I do know how to do, however, is ride freestyle BMX, something I happen to do really fucking well.

  And that’s what I’m doing now. I’m up in Cairns for a demo. Bentley stayed home, she was elbow-deep in information about the different grants and shit they could get from the government for the shelter. It’s the first time I’ve been to something like this on my own in, well, ever. I’m so used to looking down from the top of the Big Air ramp and being able to spot Mav on the sidelines. It’s funny, when he left a year and a half ago to move to the Coast, I was so pissed at him. I thought he was breaking away from us and leaving me behind. Now here I am, having done the same thing, but for a wildly different reason. In my line of work, I never think about what happens if something goes wrong. It almost seems like tempting fate to do something like that. Then I was faced with the reality of dealing with the biggest hurdle of my career. I’m not going to lie, it was hard. Being that badly broken was something I was not used to at all. All things considered, I think I handled it pretty well, the tanty that took me to the Gold Coast aside. I would’ve been happy had that been the worst thing to happen to me. Never did I even consider the possibility my father would take what happened as the worst thing.

  By taking that line of thinking, he then brought on something so earth-shattering, it broke me to the core. My family was everything to me. They were my whole world, the things that kept me grounded, made me whole. They were the ones who gave me the confidence to come out here and do what I do, knowing that no matter what happened, they would be there to break my fall. But not anymore. No, Bentley’s the one who’s taken on that role now. She’s my whole world, and I know I’m a lucky fucker she chose me. Or maybe I just wore her down. Either way, I’m going to take it. She has given me so much, and I want to give her the world in return. But again, I don’t know how to do that. So for the moment, I’ll stick to what I know.

  I roll down the Big Air ramp, and everything is feeling good. My double backflip over the first gap is perfect, but as I hit the vert, the wind picks up. A moment of panic hits me, and images of my Extreme Games run flash through my mind. In the end I dead sailor it, getting some good air off the lip of the ramp, but not attempting to pull any tricks.

  “What the fuck was that?” Dean says when I pull off into the rider area.

  “What was what?” I ask, taking off my helmet.

  “That, what you just pulled, or didn’t pull, should I say?”

  “The wind picked up,” I say, shrugging. Even someone with half a brain knows that for any extreme bike sport, wind is the enemy.

  “So?” he says, arms folded across his chest.

  “I’m not going to pull a trick without knowing how far I’m likely to drift or where I’m going to land,” I say.

  “Why the fuck not?” Just then the unmistakable sound of someone trying to do just that fills the air. The crowd is silent while the rider is being attended to.

  “That’s why,” I say, pointing.

  “Since when did you get all responsible?”

  “I always have been. Freestyle BMX is a series of calculated risks; this was one I didn’t want to take.”

  Dean shakes his head in disappointment. “And here I was thinking that crash of yours rid you of all sense.”

  “Hang on,” I say, “I thought I was a risky investment. Isn’t that why you bought Bishop on board? So you could hedge your bets?”

  He shrugs. “Bishop is done. He’s unoriginal and is pulling tricks that were impressive two years ago and now are tired. He hasn’t placed in a comp since Vegas. I’m done with him.”

  “Just like that?”

  Again, he shrugs. “That’s business.” It’s at this moment I realise that what Bishop and I do will never be more than business to Dean. He doesn’t live and breathe freestyle like we do. Hell, I doubt he even likes it.

  “Do you even like freestyle BMX?” I ask. “Or any extreme sport?”

  “More of a single horse power kind of guy,” he says.

  “Seriously?” I ask. “So why the fuck are you in this industry?”

  “The money is better. Teens are reckless with their spending and are easily led. Horse racing is expensive, and so damn hard to predict. With extreme sports, there’s always someone new coming up, so if I pick a dud, I can drop him in an instant.”

  And there it is, the ugly truth about D
ean Toms. My family may not be hooked up the way he is, but what we do have, we back with our heart and soul. I take my keys out of my backpack and unhook the Lexus fob. “Here,” I say, handing it to him. I dig out the parking ticket for the airport too. “It’s parked in the long-term lot at Coolangatta.”

  “What?” he sputters.

  “I’ve been thinking. This”—I motion between us—“isn’t working for me anymore.”

  He scoffs. “Be real, Jax.”

  “I am,” I say. “You were a port in the storm for me and I’m incredibly thankful for everything you’ve done for me, but I’m afraid I just can’t work with someone who doesn’t live and breathe this sport. Plus, your careless disregard for my safety just then leads me to believe that you are not abiding by the duty of care clause under my contract.” I may have been doing some reading for Bentley, and it may have managed to get stuck in my thick head. Who would’ve known it would come in handy? “And so, Dean,” I sneer, “I’ll be terminating my contract for that reason.”

  “And just who do you think you’ll be riding for?” he asks, his expression smug. “You think your family will take you back?”

  This time, it’s my turn to shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’ll retire. What I do know, though, is whatever I do, it won’t be with you.” I pick up my helmet and head towards the lift to take me to the top of the ramp again, flipping him off as I go.

  Once I get up there, I stand there for a while, just looking out, in case I never get to be up here again. I get ready to roll in, but before I do, I take a second to amp up the crowd. With their roars in my ears, I drop in.

  I end up getting home late. Much later than I expected, especially since I had to get a taxi, seeing as I gave my car back to Dean. Bentley is already in bed, fast asleep. I take her in; her long hair, currently red, orange, and yellow, is all over the place, a calm, peaceful look on her face. I pull out the box I got when I went shopping while I was away, and pull out the ring I bought. Cost me a pretty penny too. It’s a square-cut, three-carat solitaire on a platinum band. Carefully, so as not to wake her, I slide it on the ring finger of her left hand. I know it’ll be a hell of a surprise when she wakes up, but I’m confident that ring will be there for the rest of our lives.

  When I wake up the next morning, the first thing I notice is Bentley’s bare left hand.

  “You took your ring off,” I say, my voice still thick with sleep.

  “I don’t recall ever saying yes to wearing it,” she says, “or being asked to wear it in the first place.”

  Hmmm, she doesn’t seem impressed. This wasn’t how things worked out in my head. “Is this because I didn’t do the whole get-down-on-one-knee thing?” I ask.

  “No, it’s because you didn’t ask in the first place.”

  “Okay, so if I ask now, will you wear it?”

  “No,” she says.

  “What do you mean no?”

  “I mean no, I won’t marry you.”

  “Why not?” I ask, genuinely puzzled. Here I am, BMX god extraordinaire, who bought his woman one hell of a kick-arse ring, and she’s saying no? To me?

  “Because I don’t want to get married,” she says.

  “To me?”

  She shakes her head. “To anyone. I think the whole marriage thing is antiquated.”

  “So it’s not a no to me so much,” I say, trying to put this in terms that are relevant to me.

  She cups my face. “No, it’s not a no to you specifically. Well, it is, but it’s more the institution than you, the person.”

  “So you would marry me if it wasn’t so, what was the word you used? Antiquated?”

  “Sure,” she says flippantly. “But marriage is what it is. I become your wife. I take your name. Where am I in all of that? By saying yes to you, I don’t want to say goodbye to me. I’m afraid that by marrying you I might lose myself.”

  I feel my heart soften just that little bit towards the woman who is my world. “What happens if we had separate bank accounts and you kept your last name?”

  “It’s more than just that,” she says, giving me a small smile.

  “So tell me.”

  “It’s just, I don’t feel the need to have a piece of paper tying me to you for the rest of my life.”

  “Okay, fair enough, I can get that,” I say. “Can I tell you what it means to me?”

  “Sure.”

  I take a deep breath. “My nan and Pa were together for eighteen months before she died. My ma and Pop were together almost ten years before she died. We have kind of shitty luck when it comes to women,” I say.

  “Okay,” she says, clearly not getting where I’m going with this.

  “My brothers and I have grown up with this hanging over our heads. It took Reed a lot to get over it with Bria, and Park… I don’t think he’ll ever get over it, not after losing Chris’s mum too. To me, marriage is about keeping you close and letting you and the world know that for as long as you are on this earth, you are part of our family.”

  “Okay, that was lovely,” she says.

  “So will you wear the ring now?” I ask.

  “I’ve been through a lot of stuff too, Jax. What happened with Ethan… it stripped me of who I was. It’s taken a lot for me to get to the point where I’m happy with what I see in the mirror. I don’t want to lose that. I can’t lose that. Not again.”

  “I’m not asking you to give up who you are,” I tell her.

  “I know you’re not, but a part of me feels like I have to choose between you and me.”

  “I’m asking you to be a part of my family!” I shout. “That’s not asking you to choose. It’s about bringing you into a part of something that is the core of who I am.”

  She sighs. “It’s nothing against you, Jax. This is all about me and my hang-ups. Please don’t be like this.”

  “Like what? I ask you to marry me, and you give me some bullshit women’s lib argument. I want to be with you, Bentley, for the rest of my life, and right now I have no fucking clue what you want.”

  She sighs again. “I just want you, without all the bells and whistles. Isn’t that what really matters? You and me together?”

  I run a hand through my hair. While I’m majorly bummed she didn’t jump at the chance to be my wife, as well as the fact that we’re not having engaged-people sex right now, I understand her reasoning. I’ll even accept it, for now. This doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I still want to see that ring on her finger. Just quietly, I reckon I’ve got a chance of getting it there soon, too. “I hope you mean that, ’cause I split from Dean yesterday, so a lot of those bells and whistles will probably be disappearing soon.”

  That stops her in her tracks. “You what?”

  “I realised he wasn’t in it for the right reasons. He dropped Bishop too, so now he has no one.”

  “Wow. So what now?”

  I shrug. “I dunno. I thought I was going to be planning a wedding, but clearly that’s not going to happen… although,” I say, a mischievous gleam in my eye, “I still reckon with a little bit of time and my special persuasive powers I could get you to agree.”

  “Special persuasive powers?” she asks, doubtful.

  “Oh yeah,” I say as I crawl over her. “I’m all about persuasion.” She leans back easily, her legs falling open. “Shall I show you how persuasive I can be?”

  “Give it your best shot, dude.”

  “Now will you marry me?” I ask, as I roll off her, both of us panting and covered in a sheen of sweat.

  “Good try,” she says, patting my stomach, “but the answer’s still no.”

  Hmm, this might be more difficult than getting her to go out with me in the first place. “You know what,” I say, leaning up on my elbow and facing her, “challenge accepted.”

  “What? No, Jax, there is no challenge.”

  “Your mouth is saying that, but I can tell you don’t mean it, so game on, darlin’. No one can resist me, not even you.”

  “You’re really
not giving up?” she asks, a touch of fear in her eyes.

  “Nope. I will have you wearing that ring and I will be calling you wifey.” She huffs out a breath. “Give in yet?” I ask, hopeful. She shakes her head. “Never mind,” I say, getting up. “I can wait, and I’m determined. I’m like a little lost puppy who follows you around everywhere.”

  “That’s really how you want me to accept your proposal?” she asks. “Purely to stop you moping around the place or because you annoyed the shit out of me?”

  “Whatever it takes, wifey. Come on, Buttons,” I say to the cat, who has been watching us for the past fifteen minutes, “let’s get you some breakfast and let wifey-mummy have some alone time.” Bentley sighs as I scoop up the cat, but I know she’ll be wearing my ring eventually.

  Chapter 29

  Bentley

  I lie in bed for a while after Jax and Buttons leave. Leaning over, I pick up the ring. It really is beautiful, as is the sentiment behind it. But I can’t wear it. After Ethan and the royal disaster that was, I could never picture myself as someone’s wife, and I can’t picture it now. If I had to choose someone to be married to, it would be Jax. I know he’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, but something is holding me back. I did mean what I said about marriage being antiquated, but this is… more. Maybe I’m not ready to give that final piece of myself to somebody. And I know Jax isn’t going to give up. Strangely enough, I’m not even that annoyed about the prospect. It’s not like I want to make him work for it, it’s… I want it on my terms, I guess? But it’s good to know that when I’m ready, he will be too.

  I get dressed and walk out to the kitchen where Jax is making breakfast. Buttons looks up from her own meal with a glare, like she knows I just rejected her daddy’s marriage proposal, before continuing to eat.

  “And done,” Jax says with a flourish. I stand and watch, amused, as he creates some masterpiece. “Oh, you’re up,” he says as he turns and spots me.

  “Clearly,” I say, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.