Fighting Greed

by Miller, Jennifer

  Theresa is a kind, warm and older woman that has helped me care for Ryan practically since his birth. At the time I was still living with Nico and he told me he had the perfect person to serve as our nanny. Initially, I was leery, not knowing her and not trusting Nico’s judgment, but the moment we met, my fears were put to rest. I can’t imagine ever having anyone else, although truth be told, I’ve had to stop myself several times from asking her how exactly she’s connected to Nico. I know one of her relatives work for Nico, but I have no idea who or what they do and I know better than to ask. I suppose I let it go in part because Theresa mothers me a bit at times as well and I find I like it. It doesn’t make me miss my own mother less, but it helps ease the ache a little.

  Hurrying to change my clothes, I sigh in relief when my bra comes off and I throw on my favorite soft pajamas. There’s something comforting about them and with my mind and heart in a bit of turmoil this evening, I can use it.

  In the kitchen, I begin frying up our sandwiches knowing Ryan will be more than just a little hungry now. Once they’re made and plated along with our fruit, I call him to the table while I pour milk into his cup before snapping on the lid.

  He climbs into his chair at the table and plops himself right into his booster seat and buckles the strap around his lap. He stopped letting me lift him into the chair telling me he can do it himself. There’s clearly a pattern here with him asserting his independence that’s for sure.

  When he’s buckled up he grabs his napkin and places it on his lap like I taught him and looks at me in pride.

  “Good job, honey. You have such good manners. The perfect gentleman.”

  “What’s a gentle man?”

  “A gentleman is someone that has very good manners and is courteous. It’s a very important thing to be. It shows you will be a wonderful man when you get older.”

  “Okay,” he says shrugging and then points at his favorite chips, “Can I put some on my plate, please?” I laugh at his brush off of my explanation.

  “Yes you may,” I tell him while I set his plate in front of him with his sandwich cut in half and some fruit.

  He happily munches on his chips before taking a bit of his sandwich. “Now tell me, what was the best thing about your day today?”

  He takes a drink then taps his chin while he considers his answer. I began asking him this question a while back and I always find amusement in the serious contemplation he gives it each time. “Hmm… Theresa gave me a chocolate chip cookie when I ate all of my lunch.”

  “Oh she did, huh?”

  “Yes and I ate all of it. It was huge.” He shows me with his hands how large the cookie was.

  “Wow, and you ate the whole thing?”

  “Yep. I had lots of room in my tummy.”

  “I bet it was delicious.”

  “It was,” he nods.

  “What would you say was the worst thing about your day?”

  He tilts his head to the side and looks at the ceiling like he’s thinking hard. I can’t help but admire his dark shiny hair, his twinkling eyes and the cute little dimple he has in his chin. “Well when I was building my Legos I got up because I had to go to the potty and I stepped on a red one and it gave my foot an owie.”

  “Oh, I bet that hurt.”

  “It did. Theresa kissed it and made it better.”

  “I’m glad,” I smile but inside I wish I had been the one to kiss his foot better. Every day he seems to get bigger and bigger making time feel more like my enemy most days than something to appreciate.

  “What about your day? What is your best thing?”

  “You mean besides coming home to you?” He nods and smiles little crumbs from his sandwich surrounding his little heart shaped mouth. “Well let’s see, I think it would be the fact that I ran into an old friend.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “His name is Zane.”

  “What does he look like?” he asks curiously.

  “Well, he’s tall. He has lots of muscles and tattoos. Oh and you would love his hair.”

  “I would?”

  “Yes because he styles it to stick up spiky down the center – like a Mohawk kind of.”

  “A Mohawk?” he says excitedly. I knew he would like to know that because he thinks it’s cool to wear his own hair all spiky sometimes.

  “Yep.”

  “Wow.”

  “That’s definitely one word to describe him.”

  “What was your bad stuff?”

  “Um, I had a conversation with someone that I would have liked to not have,” I keep it vague but answering as honestly as I can.

  “With Nico?” he asks without waiting a beat or batting a lash.

  I choke on my drink and cough several times. My eyes water and I wipe them with my napkin. “

  “Why would you say that, baby?” I ask gently.

  He shrugs, “Because he makes you cry,” he says matter-of fact and my eyes immediately burn and I swallow hard.

  Feeling at a loss for how to respond, I internally berate myself. I need to do a better job at hiding things from him but sometimes it’s nearly impossible. Nico doesn’t care about yelling or making a scene. He takes joy in it knowing I’ll do anything to prevent it. I hate myself for the position we’re in. There’s no one to blame but myself.

  “Are you finished with your food? How about I read you a story after your bath tonight?” I completely change the subject not wishing to draw attention to his comment.

  “How about two stories?” he asks holding up two fingers.

  “Deal.”

  “Three?”

  “Don’t push your luck.”

  “Okay,” he giggles.

  “Do mommy a favor and go pick out your pajamas for bed time. It’s bath time as soon as I clean up in here, okay?”

  “Okay,” he says then unbuckles his belt and climbs down out of his chair before he runs from the room. I can’t help but smile at the sound of his feet hitting the floor - it’s my favorite

  I can’t stop thinking about what Ryan said as I throw our plates in the trash, put the bread and fruit away and roll up the bag of potato chips. I’m trapped. I have no idea how or if I will ever get out of the position we’re in. He’s never seen Nico abuse me, but hearing the interactions has clearly been enough. I grab my chest as if doing so will staunch the ache inside.

  Walking into his room, I see he’s already taken his clothes off down to his Spiderman undies and thrown them on the floor. Picking them up, I place them inside the hamper in his room. He’s laid his pajamas on the bed with new undies. Standing at his bookcase he takes two books from the shelf.

  When he turns, he sees me standing in the doorway and smiles, holding up his choices. “I picked these ones.”

  “Good choice. Put them next to your pj’s and then grab any toys you want in the bath with you. I’ll go get the water started.”

  He turns to dig in his toy bin and I go into his adjacent bathroom. It is also decorated in airplanes from the toothbrush holder, the shower curtain and the towels hanging on the rack.

  Starting the water, I sit on the side of the tub and do my best to let go of the pain and guilt I feel inside of me.

  That’s easier to do once the little love of my life joins me in the bathroom proudly holding up the Spiderman toys he’s brought in with him with a grin. Smiling, I choose to give myself a break and live in the moment with my son.

  Besides, someday, somehow, I’m going to find a way out of this mess. I greedily hold onto that hope. I’m sure most would wonder how I have any, but it’s simple really, it’s one of the only things Nico hasn’t managed to take from me.

  All damn day I’ve been second-guessing the fact I didn’t text Sutton last night. Should I have? Would it have made me seem pathetic and desperate? Make me look too anxious? Hell, I don’t know. I probably let my pride get in the way of what I would really like to do, but it sure as hell isn’t the first time. Maybe I should have sent her a little something
like, ‘it was great seeing you again’ or ‘wanna meet up at the gym tomorrow’? Something casual and cool – like me.

  Or at least like me until this fucking minute.

  What am I doing? I bet if I looked in my pants right now I’d have a clit. I’m literally turning into a pussy more and more as each minute passes – I need to settle down. I’m borderline ready to write our names with hearts around them.

  Looking at myself in the mirror, I give myself a once over. Small diamond studs in both ears and one in my eyebrow wink in the light. High cheekbones the ladies love and deep blue eyes, a long nose yeah, but it works on my face. My jaw is strong, my tattoos fucking rock, and I know my body is smokin’. Even my hair is killing it. Today I’ve got it in a carefully styled mess. I look good, which is why I give myself a stern talking to.

  “You do not chase women. You never have, you never will. What the fuck is your problem?”

  But inside, my inner voice is laughing his ass off because if chasing Sutton is what I need to do to get her underneath me, then blow the whistle and let the race begin. Game on.

  Stuffing my gym bag full of work out clothes and tennis shoes, I place it on my bed and put on my dress shirt and tie. I’d much rather be heading straight to the gym today, but I’ve got a couple of houses to show instead. I’m getting paid good money for my fights these days, but I’m still building my nest egg and would like to make some additional investments. My job as a realtor helps bring in a decent income. Especially right now since the market is doing so great.

  In truth though I often wonder if gambling made me paranoid. Ever since I’ve been rehabilitated, I hoard money like I’m going to lose it. I’ve got multiple investments and a hefty savings account. I swore I would pay Jax back for bailing me out like he did and I definitely earned that and much, much more. I never want to find myself in that position again.

  I’ve come a long way. It used to be nothing for me to take my hard earned money and spend it betting on football games, basketball games and eventually my own fights. I’m lucky I was never caught and reported to the UFC Organization or I would have lost my MMA career all together.

  I have Jax to thank for that. After getting in particularly deep with a bookie I was so in debt to him and on the worst losing streak of my life. I couldn’t get ahead, kept trying to get the money I needed by gambling more and more until I was not only in over my head, but out of the allotted time I’d been given to pay back my debt.

  The day I got my ass beat is not one I will soon forget. I was cocky enough to think that no one could touch me. Maybe not, but ten on one doesn’t exactly have me coming out on top. I never accounted for all the people that my bookie had working for him and would send after me. I was fortunate to only get off with a few cracked ribs, a broken nose and multiple cuts and bruises. My life was on the line if I didn’t get my debt paid within forty-eight hours after that.

  Going to the hospital was not an option – I didn’t want to explain my injuries. I hunkered down in my apartment for several hours trying to figure out what to do and panicking while missing scheduled fight time. Jax came and let himself into my place with his key. Worried, he demanded answers, realizing my appearance had nothing to do with a fight in the octagon.

  After blaming himself first for not knowing what I had been doing for the last year - which only made me feel worse - he was so angry he almost beat my ass as bad as the bookie’s ghouls. Can’t say I blamed him. Not only did I threaten my own career but I also put his on the line due to the association with him and his gym. He would have been accused of involvement had I been caught. What I did was selfish and stupid. The reasons for my choices, the reason I became obsessed with wanting more and more and more were suddenly insignificant and small.

  Jax bailed me out and kept my shame to himself but demanded I get my ass to rehab to get my shit under control. He threatened our friendship, threatened my career, threatened to tell our friends – and I couldn’t blame him one bit. Those things shamed me enough to agree to get help.

  The guys all thought I went to visit my mom and sister for a while and never thought anything about it. Or at least if they did, they didn’t ever say a word.

  It’s definitely not one of my proudest moments given the fact I risked not only my fighting career but also my dearest and oldest friendship.

  Now, instead of spending or losing my money, it’s all about earning, saving and investing. I like this new-learned concept of passive earning. I guess you could say stocks, bonds and mutual funds are my new bets. That’s as much risk-taking I care to do with my money these days.

  Pulling up to the house in Chandler, Arizona that I’m showing today, I get out of my car and walk up to the front door to greet my clients. They insisted on meeting me here even though I offered to pick them up. I admire the two-level 2800 square foot stucco house with desert landscaping that stands in front of me. It looks fairly typical on the outside, but has several unique features on the inside.

  “It’s warm out. I hope you weren’t waiting out here long.” I look at my watch to make sure I’m exactly five minutes early and not late.

  Cole shakes his head and Tatum smiles, “Not at all, we just got here a few minutes before you,” Tatum tells me.

  Using my master key to unlock the lockbox that holds the key to the house, once I obtain it I quickly unlock the door holding it open for them to enter. Cole kisses Tatum’s forehead and gestures for her to precede him through the door.

  Cole and Tatum have decided to look for their first home. They’re living in Cole’s apartment right now, which is down the hall from Ryder and Tessa’s place actually, but they’ve got a kid on the way so they decided it’s time for a home with plenty of room for their new family. They’re cute as hell even though they have their nauseating moments.

  “Alright, so it’s a four bedroom and three bathroom house per your request,” I state from behind them as they stand in the foyer and look around. There’s a room off the foyer to the right and I gesture to it, “A nice size dining room – which you could also use as a den, if desired, and as you can see there’s an entry way here that goes into the kitchen or we can go straight down the hall.”

  Once past the foyer, there’s a large open living area with lots of windows displaying the lush back yard and swimming pool with fountain. “It’s so nice,” Tatum says looking at the back yard.

  “We can get a dog!” Cole says excitedly. “I’ve always wanted a dog.”

  Tatum turns to him, eyes wide, “Maybe we could start with the baby first?”

  “Are you comparing our child to a dog?” Cole asks with humor in his voice.

  “No! I’m just saying we’ll have our hands full.”

  “I know, Van Gogh,” he says calling her by the nickname he has for her. “I’m just teasing you.”

  “The countertops are all marble, there’s a large island and a walk in pantry. The appliances were purchased this year,” I continue listing the features and watch as they walk around and look and touch everything opening cabinets, drawers, doors and cupboards.

  Once I take them upstairs I show them all the bedrooms, laundry room and bathrooms. There’s even a large loft area as well.

  “Are you sure this isn’t too big, Cole? Our first house doesn’t need to be this… extreme.”

  “First of all we can afford it, second of all it’s not too big. There’s a room for us, a room for the little one, a room for your art studio and an extra one for whatever we decide. Maybe a future kid’s room?”

  She smiles and moves into his arms and I take that as my cue to head down the stairs giving them privacy while they look around. The two of them have been to hell and back and it’s past time they realize the life together they deserve. Watching them, seeing how they are moving seamlessly into a forged life that they don’t find intimidating or scary is fascinating to me. I guess I feel that way when I watch all the guys with their ladies. It’s like once they found the right person – the one who was m
ade for them - they stopped worrying about the little shit. Like they could handle anything. I’m finding myself envious of that.

  Yeah, I had a difficult childhood, but it could have been worse. I’ve done my best to work through the remaining feelings left over from my past as that was long ago. I’m fortunate to have a good relationship with my mom, I have a fantastic sister that often annoys the hell out of me and really great friends. I’ve worked my ass off to have the fighting career I enjoy and while it’s my passion and something I wish I could do all the time, real estate is something I enjoy as well. Even when it means I have to put a stupid monkey suit on which I hate. Tatum and Cole wouldn’t have cared, but I would have – I can be professional when needed.

  There’s something about seeing people realize the dream of owning a home that makes me feel good. It was something I had wished for my own family when I was a kid and on some level blamed myself for not being able to help provide that even though I was too young. Now, there’s something about having a small role in helping other families realize their dream that satisfies something within me.

  But, even with all the positive things in my life I’ve always known there’s something missing. Maybe it’s that I have yet to find the thing that seems to have given Jax, Ryder, Tyson and Cole peace. I don’t know. I do know that there’s something in all of their eyes now that reflects how settled they feel. It wasn’t there before, and I find myself wanting that for myself too. I may give them a hard time, it’s what I do, but I’m greedy to experience it for myself.

  Pulling my phone out I stare at it for a few seconds and then pull up Sutton’s name. I saved her number in my phone as soon as I got back to my place that night. Before I think about it too much and change my mind, I shoot her a text.

  Are you going to the gym today, babelicious?

  After I send it I smile like an idiot, which I realize when I get a glimpse of my reflection in the microwave. I look away before I start internally making fun of myself. When my phone vibrates I’m already smiling wider before I even see who it is.