by McLean, Jay
“Is this your gym?” he spits out. “I didn’t think so.”
“Whatever you say, man.” I head back over to Maddy, where my gear is.
“No gloves. No gear!” he yells.
I rest my hands on my hips and shake my head. Fuck him. I strip off my shirt and throw it at Madison.
When I get in the cage, Gunner’s eyes skim over my ribs, inspecting the remnants of the damage he’d helped create the week before.
I try to concentrate because I want DeLuca to see that I’m not just some chump in the cage. I want him to know that I’m learning—and that I’m good—so that if he ever feels the need to attack me again, I’ll be more than ready to fight back.
After an hour of sparring and Gunner ‘talking’ me through it, he says he wants to show me one more move before taking a break. I’m beat, but my conditioning is good. I train hard every day, pushing myself to my absolute limit. Gunner—he’s fucked. He can barely speak, from both his lack of oxygen and the sweat covering his entire face.
He glances over at DeLuca for a second, but it’s long enough for me to follow his gaze—and long enough for me to see DeLuca jerk his head once. He gets up from beside Madison, taps her once on the shoulder, and leaves the building.
“Focus,” Gunner clips. “You need to work on your sprawl. Your balance is off.” My attention now on him, I nod in agreement. Sprawling isn’t my greatest skill. “I’m going to go for a single leg takedown,” he says.
“Okay.” I set my feet apart, plant them to the floor and bend my knees, giving myself maximum defensive resistance. The plan is that he’ll move forward—try to take me down by grabbing one of my legs. If it works out for him, I’ll be on the ground. If it works for me, I’ll be able to scoot my legs back quick enough that I’d land on his upper back and gain an advantage.
But he doesn’t go for the takedown.
He goes straight for my ribs… with his goddamn shoulder.
I fly back, all air leaving my lungs while flashes of white hit the backs of my eyes. Somewhere in the distance, I hear Madison scream. I wince, rolling to my left and nursing my right ribcage.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, you asshole!” Madison yells. I hear the cage door open and slam shut and the next moment… tits …all up in my vision.
Maybe I’m dreaming.
“Ky! Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I try to move, but the pain’s too overwhelming.
She’s on her knees, her hand stroking my forehead. Then, suddenly, rage fills her eyes and her face turns red. “You did that on purpose, you dick!” she yells at Gunner. Then to me, “Can you sit up?”
I shake my head. I can get up, but I like my view just fine.
She runs her hands through my hair and lifts my head off the mat, holding me to her. I smile against her chest. “Are you hurt?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I exaggerate a groan. “Oh, man. It hurts so damn bad.”
She pulls away, her eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking with me?”
I laugh, which reminds me of the true physical pain I’m in. “No,” I lie. I reach out and grab her arm, trying to bring her back to me. “Come back and comfort me—that made me feel a whole lot better.”
She glares at me but helps me stand, then turns to Gunner. “You’re an asshole, Gunther.”
My laugh’s cut short by my wince. My ribs aren’t broken, but they’re pretty damn close. She helps me with my shirt and walks me out of the gym.
“What the hell’s his problem?” she asks, stopping in front of the dollar store. “I bet he has a tiny dick.”
I laugh and then almost cry out in my pain. “Fuck. Don’t make me laugh.”
“And you!” She pokes a finger into my shoulder. “I was so worried you broke something and you—”
I raise my hand, cutting her off. “I’m not going to apologize for being a guy. Don’t expect it.”
She rears back and gives me that same disgusted look all girls give to idiot jack-holes. “I’ll be back,” she says, walking into the store.
I lean against the wall and quit faking for a moment.
I hurt.
Bad.
And I need time to recover.
I pull out my phone and send a text to Jackson.
Ky: I can’t train for a few days.
Jackson: You okay?
Ky: Yeah, my ribs copped a beating.
Jackson: How?
Ky: Not important.
Madison helps me to the couch and, not a minute later, there’s a knock on the door. “Are you expecting someone?”
“Nope.”
She opens the door to Jackson’s surprised face. They both turn to me, and Jackson says, “How bad is it?”
“He already knows?” Madison asks, confusion clear in her tone.
“Yeah,” Jackson answers after a momentary panic. “He asked for a recommendation for a doctor to check it out.”
Madison’s eyes widen. “It’s that bad?”
They both stalk toward me as if I’m an injured animal they need to assess. “Just precautionary.” I glare at Jackson. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll get the ice,” Madison says, making her way to the kitchen.
Jax sits next to me and kicks his legs up on the coffee table. “Playing house already. You’ve known her how long? A few days?”
“Leave it alone, Jax.”
“How much do you know about her?”
“Enough.”
Madison returns with an ice pack and sits on my other side. She lifts my shirt, completely ignoring the fact that Jackson is watching her intently. “It’s not looking so good,” she says, placing the pack on my right side.
I flinch.
She cringes. “We’ll stay in. I’ll get some menus.” She looks up at Jackson. “Did you want to stay for dinner?”
He shakes his head. “I have a little work to do. Was just checking in on my big bro.”
She nods as she stands up and, once she’s in the kitchen, far enough that she can’t hear us, Jax laughs. “Is she going for some bride speed record?”
“Are you jealous?”
“I’m serious, bro.” And the look on his face lets me know it. “Do you even know her last name?”
“Why?” I ask, incredulously. “Are you going to do a background check?”
He rolls his eyes.
“Maddy!” I shout, my eyes on Jax.
“Yeah?”
“What’s your last name?”
“Haynes.”
I raise my eyebrows at Jackson.
“Why?” she says, coming back over with a bunch of take-out menus.
I shrug. “Just realized I didn’t know it.”
She smiles awkwardly, her eyes flicking to Jackson before attempting to look busy with the menus.
“So, a few days?” Jax asks.
“At least three, I’d say.”
“Okay. I’ll text you the number for my doctor. Get him to check it out.” Standing up, he adds, “Madison, good seeing you again.” She smiles at him, still awkward. “I’ll let myself out.”
Once he’s out, Madison says, the sadness in her tone unmistakable, “He hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Yeah, he does.”
“He’s just protective.”
“Of a girl?” she laughs.
I shrug. “History.”
“I’m so full.” Madison leans back on the couch after finishing dinner and pats her stomach twice. “I’m kind of happy you got the next few days off. It means we can hang out more.”
“I didn’t really plan on spending all that time off with you,” I joke, earning a backhand to the stomach. The pain in my ribs is instant, and I wince out a “Fuck.”
Madison faces me, her eyes wide. “Shit, Ky. I’m so sorry. I forgot.”
I hold my breath and let the ache filter out of me. Her gaze focuses on my ribs, a perfect frown pulling on her lips while she attempts to fight back tears. “Maddy, it’s fine. It was an accid
ent.”
She stands. “I should go.”
I grab her arm. “No. Stay with me tonight.”
“I’ll just hurt you more.”
“No, you won’t. Stop being dramatic. Plus, what if I need your help to pee in the middle of the night? Do you really want to be the reason I wet the bed?”
It’s supposed to be a joke, but she isn’t laughing. “It’s that bad?”
“Yeah. Really bad.” I fake a grimace. “Please, Maddy, it hurts so damn much.”
She narrows her eyes at me while I try to contain my laugh. “You could just ask, you know.” She leans down and kisses me quickly. “I’ll just grab some things and be right back.”
An hour later, she’s sitting on my bed looking down at me, her finger gently tracing the dips in my stomach. “What’s war like?”
I rest my hands behind my head, savoring her touch. “What do you want to know?”
“Do you think it changed you? The experience, I mean.”
“Definitely.”
“How?”
I reach for her hand and kiss her wrist, then rest it on my chest. “I don’t know. When I left, I was just pissed off at the world. I thought I’d learned enough during boot camp, but it was nothing compared to actually being there. You see some bad shit—shit no one should ever have to see—but I think the biggest thing that changed me was meeting my brothers.”
“Jackson and Steven?”
“No, I mean my squad brothers. They all had different reasons for enlisting. My buddy Hunter—he lost his dad in 9/11. Montoya—he enlisted to honor his family. Generations of men in his family were soldiers. You’d think that the pressure would suck, but he didn’t hate it like I probably would have. He was proud. I mean, they were all proud to be there, you know? Me? I was there because I felt sorry for myself. Because I wanted to run away from reality—a reality that wasn’t all that bad—not compared to war.”
“Do you regret it though?”
“Not for a second.” I don’t skip a beat. “Do I regret my reason for joining? Yes. But I wouldn’t take it back.”
“Is that part of the reason you won’t see Christine?”
I inhale a sharp breath, ignoring the discomfort in my ribs. “She didn’t know I was enlisting, Maddy. I never told her or Jax. I packed my shit in the middle of the night and left them a note.” A bitter laugh bubbles out of me. “A stupid note. Like it would make up for my actions. Truthfully, I’m too embarrassed to face her.”
“You think she’d still care about that? I’m sure she’d just want to see you—know that you’re alive and well.”
“Maybe,” I tell her. “But that doesn’t take away the shame.”
A sad smile forms on her lips before she moves under the covers and rests her head on my shoulder. “Ky?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you’ll go back? Re-deploy?”
I let my thoughts form into words, and then I tell her the truth. “It used to be my plan. I didn’t think there was anything here worth staying for.”
“And now?”
I tilt her head up and kiss her once, letting my lips linger. “And now I have you, Maddy.”
“You have me,” she repeats, smiling against my lips. “Will you tell me about her?” she asks, pulling away.
“Who?”
“Christine.”
I stare up at the ceiling—memories of Christine filling my mind. “She’s badass.”
“Badass?”
“Yeah. She grew up on this farm—was raised by her dad—kind of reminds me of you, actually.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. She’s super sweet… seems super innocent. Bakes cookies and crafts and stuff, but then she has this badass side to her. Like, she knows how to carry a gun and isn’t afraid to use it.”
“I hate guns.”
Her words surprise me. “Why?”
“Never mind.”
“You avoid talking about anything related to you. You do it all the time. Or you change the subject. You don’t think I notice, but I do.”
She turns to her side, facing away from me. “Good night, Ky.”
“Really? You’re just going to act oblivious to it all?”
She starts to shuffle out of bed. “I’m going home.”
“No.” I ignore the shooting pain and reach over to her, bringing her back down. “Just stay. Forget I said anything.”
Her eyes lock on mine when she turns around. “We both have secrets, Ky,” she says through a sigh, getting back into bed and facing the ceiling.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, frustration clear in my tone. “You ask a million questions and I answer all of them.”
She sighs loudly, resting her head back on my shoulder, and I calm myself down, feeling the tension in my muscles slowly releasing. “It’s been a shitty day, Ky,” she says. “We should get some sleep before we both say or do something stupid. We’ll forget about all of this in the morning.”
* * *
I saw the hurt in his eyes, and I almost told him everything.
Almost.
But then… where the hell would I even start?
Chapter 19
“Ky.”
I slap the hand away from my face.
“Ky!”
I groan and grab Madison’s hand when her finger pokes at my cheek. Her smile’s the first thing I see when I open my eyes. “What do you want, Maddy?”
The smile turns to a pout.
“Don’t pout. It’s annoying,” I lie.
Her face falls. “I’m annoying?” She reaches up with her free hand to poke my face again.
I push her hand away. “Yes. You’re annoying.”
She pouts again.
I roll my eyes.
“I just wanted to feel how deep your dimples are,” she murmurs. “Are you still mad at me?”
“No. I’m mad at myself because I should be mad at you, but I can’t be. And I’m frustrated because I want to kiss you so bad right now, but you don’t deserve it.”
“Ky?”
“Mm?”
She leans over me, her gaze flicking between my lips to my eyes and back again, right before she presses her lips to mine.
“You’re evil,” I tell her.
She doesn’t skip a beat, just kisses me again. Once. Twice. And by the third time, I’ve already given in to her. When she pulls away, I say, “Another one.”
She laughs. “With pleasure.”
Once we’ve finished eating breakfast and she’s cleaned up after us, she grabs the frame she bought yesterday and sits on the couch next to me. Making sure not to hurt my ribs, she leans into my side and rests her hand on my chest. “What do you think their story is?” she asks.
I look at the picture in the frame. The couple’s younger than the last. They’re on the dock at a lake—the girl’s sitting across the guy’s lap, and they’re holding each other, smiling, like the world’s never shown them an ounce of tragedy or regret.
“High school sweethearts,” I mumble. “For sure.”
From the corner of my eye, I see her watching me, but I keep my gaze on the picture.
“You think?” she asks.
I nod. “You can see it in their smiles. Reality hasn’t kicked their asses yet.”
She shifts beside me. “She looks like Ashlee.”
My eyes snap to hers. “How do you—”
“I—I was on—on your iPad yesterday and I clicked on this blue thing with the letter F—”
I raised my voice. “You went on my Facebook?”
She shrugs. “I guess that could be it.”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“I—I didn’t know what it was. I just clicked it.”
“So you decided to go through my shit?”
She ignores my question. “There are pictures of you together…”
“Yeah. From five or six years ago. Did you see that? And it doesn’t matter, because that shit’s personal, Maddy. You shoul
dn’t be going—”
“I didn’t know what it was!”
I inhale sharply, pushing down the pain and trying to keep my anger in check. I’m pissed—at her for doing what she did—and because… “You know what? After last night, I thought I’d be okay with it. I’ve always been honest with you. You ask and I answer. That’s how this works. But it’s not enough, is it? You had to go through my stuff!”
“Ky—”
“No, Maddy. You know everything about me. I’ve laid it all out for you. Everything. And after the shit with Ashlee—the hurt she fucking caused me—you should know that I wouldn’t deal with secrets and I shouldn’t fucking have to.”
“I’m the one with secrets?” she yells. “She messaged you two days ago, Ky.”
“Jesus Christ, Maddy, you went through my messages?”
She flinches, then narrows her eyes at me. “So what if I did! Don’t get all high and mighty and act like you’re better than me when you’re talking to your ex!”
I stand up, pulling at my hair in frustration, and glare down at her. “You honestly think that I’d do whatever it is you’re suggesting? I’ve been all about you, Madison. Ever since the first day I fucking saw you.”
“So why are you talking to her?” she yells.
I start pacing, her gaze following me from her spot on the couch. I take a breath, and then another, before finally admitting the truth. “Because it feels good, okay?” So does saying it out loud, apparently. “It feels nice to have her talk to me—to have her apologize and want me back and for me to be able to tell her to fuck off because I thought I’d found someone better.”
Her gaze lowers.
It just makes me more pissed. “I don’t even know how to feel right now. You’re mad for whatever reason, and I’m supposed to feel bad when you’re the one who avoids anything personal.” I don’t even know if it’s the fact that she went through my stuff or the fact that we’re talking about Ashlee or the unresolved argument we had last night. But whatever it is, I keep going, keep pushing for her to fight back. “You don’t tell me anything about yourself or your past. I know fuck all about you. You say you’re from around here, but then you tell me you don’t know the area that well…”