Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Beck
It has been four long months without Sloan.
We’ve been giving each other space. Well, I’ve been giving her space and hoping like hell she hasn’t forgotten about me. It felt like Sloan needed time away to process everything she was going through and I can’t say that I blame her.
Sometimes you really have to just sit with yourself, alone, to truly be able to heal. I probably would’ve never realized that, if it wasn’t for Sloan.
It’s hard as fuck and it sucks. Wow, does it ever suck but it feels worth it on the other side.
Looking back in hindsight at the way that I acted before was inexcusable. I’m honestly surprised my friends are still friends with me.
Instead of lashing out and starting fights, I decided it was time to spend some time with myself. To see why the thought of Sloan taking time away left me feeling so rejected.
Sloan didn’t give me a single reason to lose faith in her.
If anything, Sloan inspired me to want to be better for her.
I never wanted to be someone who lashed out and scared her.
I always tried my hardest to keep my temper under control.
I never wanted to be someone who made her feel like she wasn’t heard.
I wanted nothing more than for Sloan to come to me, with everything—good or bad.
I’ll admit I wasn’t comfortable seeing a therapist, but I started journaling and writing down my feelings.
Anytime something would come up when I felt the sting of Sloan being away, I wrote it down.
I was quick to find that most of this stemmed back to my parents never being available and then my father leaving all together.
Trying to meditate was something new I started. Something Ash actually tried teaching me to do. Learning to respond instead of reacting.
I know I’m not a changed man yet. It’s only been four months but I feel lighter. I feel ready to be the type of man that Sloan needs. The type of man she deserves.
The second I beat Kenzo King today, I’ll be on a plane to Boston to bring Sloan home where she belongs.
I’m sitting on the bed in my hotel room in Vegas. I’ve been trying to remember when I was here last time, but losing the fight to Kenzo still hasn’t come back to me. And maybe that’s a good thing.
Every time I won a fight, I had hoped my father was out there somewhere seeing me on TV and proud that I was his son.
I always wished for his validation but it never came.
I was so hungry for attention that I looked forward to the phone calls from my mom, knowing she watched my fight, even though talking to her was often a painful experience.
Tonight, I want to win, but I want to win for me.
Not to prove something to my absent father or my narcissist mother.
But to prove to myself that fighting doesn’t have to consume my life.
Maybe I can find balance in fighting once a year but also live a normal life.
That I can have months where I stay fit but don’t have to have such a grueling schedule all the time.
So, I can spend time with my friends and hopefully with Sloan.
Fighting was always an outlet to pour all of my rage into. Pushing my body to the extreme so I could feel physical pain instead of the turmoil always festering just under the surface and ready to boil over at any moment. But I don’t want to feel that way anymore.
I’m realizing I don’t need to seek validation outside of myself.
That I don’t need to fight all the time to manage my temper anymore.
That I can confide in my friends instead of bottling things up.
I know they will listen. That they’ll be there to offer me guidance and be a safe space for me.
Something my family was never able to offer me.
That I can fight because I enjoy doing it but not to just survive my rage.
A knock on my hotel door takes me out of my head. I go to get up and I’m hit with a memory.
Sutton coming to my door and telling me she was choosing August right before the fight flashes in my mind.
Another knock on the door, has me finally walking to answer it.
I hesitate, taking a deep breath before I open the door.
My Little Dove stands in front of me. Her long raven hair swept up in two space buns, platform sneakers on her feet, tight black leggings on her slender legs, and a baby blue T-shirt that says…
“Beckett Scott’s Girl,” I whisper.
“If you’ll have me?” Sloan asks hopefully.
Reaching for her delicate neck, I pull her into my room, shutting the door and pressing her up against it. “Always, baby.”
I crash my lips down on hers. Sloan melts into my hold, letting me coax her mouth open with my tongue. Kissing me back with just as much fervor.
“Gods, I missed you. When did you get here, Little Dove?” I ask in between kisses.
“I dropped my car off at my house and had Quinn drop me off at the airport. I came straight here once I got in. I missed you so much.”
“Wait a minute. How did you know where I was?”
“Ash,” Sloan smiles, kissing me again.
Pulling away from her, “Wait…your house? Your car?” I ask.
“Yeah. I bought a house outside of the city, maybe twenty minutes from you,” Sloan offers.
“In Pittsburgh?”
“Yes,” Sloan replies, smiling.
“So you’re staying?” I ask hopeful.
“I told you I was, Beckett Scott,” Sloan says huskily.
“You could’ve moved in with me. You didn’t have to buy a house.”
“I could have, but I wanted to do this for myself. I wanted a yard, a garden, a place for Mayhem and Khaos to run around safely. Your apartment is great, Beck, but it’s yours. I wanted something that was mine,” Sloan says nervously.
“As long as you’re close to me, Little Dove, that’s all that matters to me. Maybe someday you’ll let me and Mayhem move in with you.”
“Maybe I will.” Sloan winks at me.
“Does this shirt mean you’re mine, Little Dove?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Only if you’re mine, Beckett Scott,” Sloan teases.
“You have all of me, Sloan. I’m a better man because of you.
I promise to learn with you and love you how you deserve to be loved.
I vow to protect you always, even though I know you can protect yourself.
I will continue to work on myself for me and for you.
So, you only ever get the best version of me, because that’s who you deserve.
I love you, Little Dove.” I press my lips to hers.
“I love you, Beckett. I had no idea how to love. I didn’t know how to trust anyone, not even myself anymore.
You taught me how. You showed me through actions what love looked like.
You proved to me that a good man would never use his words or his fists to hurt a woman.
He will only use his hands to hold her and support her and his words to encourage her and push her to be her best self.
You became the home I never knew I was searching for.
You showed me a love and intimacy I never knew I was missing until I met you.
I am yours, Beckett Scott,” Sloan vows, kissing me back.
“Little Dove, I want to consummate our relationship with you only wearing this T-shirt, but I have to go weigh in for the fight,” I groan, kissing from her lips down her neck.
“You can have me, in just this shirt, as soon as you win that title back, babe,” Sloan purrs, nipping my ear with her teeth.
“Promise?” I ask, running my tongue up her neck to her ear.
“Promise.” Sloan gasps.
“You’re coming with me, Little Dove.” I grip her by her thighs and toss her over my shoulder. I open the door and close it behind us.
I carry Sloan that way on the elevator and all the way down to the backstage of the ring.
“Such a caveman.” Sloan chuckles.
“Always for you, baby.” I give her ass a little tap.
Sloan’s giggles washing away the remaining nerves I have about this fight.