49. Wilder
My fists slam into the guy's jaw again and again, knuckles bursting, blood spilling, but I can’t stop.
Because if I stop, I feel, and if I feel anything ever again, I’m not going to survive.
It’s been a week since I left Reed in that garage, seven days, or maybe eight, I’m not sure if it’s past midnight yet or not.
Not that it matters, nothing matters, not without him.
I can’t remember the last time I slept, can’t remember the last time I ate, no, the only thing I remember is the words he said to me.
Being with you is not something I can do, Wilder, not now, not ever.
The words spin on repeat in my mind, and no matter how many times I hit the guy before me, they don’t go away. My heart is racing, hands shaking, and I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping my panic attack at bay is the adrenaline pulsing through me.
Someone somewhere calls my name, but I ignore them, just like I have been ignoring my phone. It’s been buzzing non-stop for days.
Dad.
Ignore.
Laura.
Ignore.
Matteo.
Ignore.
Even Caden called, twice, but I let them all ring out until the battery eventually died, and now I don’t even know where my phone is.
It’s why I’m here and not at home, because no one would expect to find me here.
The Underground is a place you come to get lost, Caden made sure of that, and right now I feel like I want to be lost forever.
The sponsors can wait, social media can wait, and I’m sure the entire internet thinks I've vanished off the face of the earth because I haven't posted since Vegas, but I don’t give a fuck. Not when I don’t have the energy to pretend I’m okay.
The air smells of sweat, blood, and expensive whiskey, as someone calls my name again, but it gets lost in the screaming crowd.
I shouldn’t be here, I know that, I never fight in the pits, not really, not without giving Cade a heads up at least. Except I slipped in an hour ago without a word, with my cap pulled low.
I’m sure the bartender recognized me instantly, but he didn’t think twice about serving me.
The same way the guy, who runs the fights when Bobby is busy, didn’t flinch at my presence either, not realizing I purposely waited for him to step up.
Now music pounds through concrete walls, hard enough to vibrate in my ribs, as I take another swing.
The guy across from me is one of Caden’s lower level fighters, good, talented, but didn’t stand a chance with the mood I’m in.
Still, he keeps coming at me, and I let him get a few hits in, just to see if I can feel anything, but when I don’t, I go back at him even harder than before.
Poor kid, I bet he hasn’t a clue that I spent almost two years down here training with Beckett, he’s the one they all know to be afraid of.
Blood fills my mouth where my lip splits against my teeth, and I fucking roar, needing to taste more.
Maybe if something hurts enough on the outside, then the pain inside of me will go away.
He lands another shot across my ribs, then another, before I hit him back, not hard enough to knock him out, but just enough to remind him I'm still a professional athlete.
He stumbles, recovers, and then comes back again.
Which is just what I need, more pain. Pain is honest, it doesn’t lie, it doesn’t tell you it loves you before saying it can never be with you.
A fist catches my jaw and stars burst behind my eyes. “Again,” I grin, making him hesitate. "I said again,” I yell, making him swing at me, but someone catches his wrist before the punch can land.
The entire room falls strangely quiet, and I don't even have to look to see who it is, I'd know that silence anywhere.
"Trying to hurt your pretty face?" Caden.
He says the words without any emotion, still holding the fighter's wrist in his grip, and even with blood all over his face, the kid looks like he might throw up in fear.
“Nope,” I spit, shooting some blood onto the floor of the pit ring. “Just trying to chase away my demons."
Caden studies me for a long moment, his expression not changing for a second, it rarely does, but still I see something there I’ve never seen before. “Let’s go,” he demands, letting go of the kid, who instantly stumbles from the ring, but I just shake my head.
“Nah, I’m good, I've got another round in me," I force out, already hating the way I can feel the adrenaline wearing off.
"No, you’re done."
"Fuck off, Cade."
He doesn’t react, doesn’t raise his voice, just simply steps toward me until we’re standing almost chest to chest. "It wasn't a question.
" I can tell from the tone of his voice that I’m not dealing with my cousin right now, and in my peripheral vision I can see the crowd dissipating and heading back toward the bars.
I wait until they all leave before I respond. "I'm not leaving,” I tell him with as much force as I can muster, as his eyes quickly flick over me.
"You're bleeding,” he points out, but I only shrug.
"So? I've bled before."
"And you're drunk."
"I've been drunk before too,” I reply sarcastically, but he cuts me off.
"And you're trying to get someone to hit you hard enough that you stop thinking." The words land rougher than any punch I’ve taken tonight, and I have to look away, but Caden grips my chin between his fingers. “You’re not sleeping, that much is clear, and you haven’t answered your phone all fucking week. Have you even bothered training?” He asks the question, already knowing the answer.
“After all the work you’ve put in, you’re just going to ruin it, while also letting amateurs use your face as a fucking punching bag. What the fuck are you doing, Wild?"
I laugh, low and empty. “I honestly don’t know.” It's the first honest thing I've said all week, and Caden nods once, finally stepping back.
He reaches down, picks up my discarded jacket from outside the cage and throws it against my chest. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” I say, but he once again cuts me off.
“No, you need your fucking family, now let’s go.”
Something in my chest cracks at his words, and it’s only now, as I follow him out of the pit cage, that I notice Casper, Knox, and Beck are all lurking around the edge watching me.
Bobby is by the bar, working to keep the crowd occupied with one of Caden’s other men, Levi, but still I feel Bobby tracking us as we move.
To my surprise, all the guys follow me back to my apartment, which I can’t really grumble about, when Knox and Beck live here too.
The two of them make quick work of whipping up some drinks, and then I’m handed a cocktail of only who knows what.
Not that I care, I down it in one and signal for another, shocked that I am granted it instantly.
They all talk back and forth and I don’t hear a single word, just feel the steady focus of Caden’s stare the entire time.
Casper leaves first of course, Bobby coming to pick him up so he can be dropped at The Academy, and I barely notice when the other two slip off to bed.
We’re all starting work there on Monday since the PRI season is over now, something I was once excited about, but now the prospect leaves me feeling bitter.
“Am I pathetic enough for you to take pity on me and kill me yet?” I ask Cade, meeting his blank stare, almost certain he won’t answer me.
“I didn’t kill Jason because I pitied him.” He keeps his face blank, but I hear the lingering anger in his tone.
“Then why did you do it?” I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve asked him this question now, and this time I actually get a reaction.
“Nice try, maybe ask me again when your heart isn’t broken and bleeding all over my fighting cages,” he grunts back, sipping slowly from his glass.
“That’s rich coming from you, do you even have a heart?”
I get the faintest hint of a smirk as I stare at him, wondering how he even does it. No one ever talks about Caden’s struggles, he’s the calm one, the dangerous one, and despite it all, he’s still protecting me from his reasons.
Ignoring my question, he says, "You loved him." It's not a question, and I don't answer because I don't need to.
“It doesn’t matter now I guess,” I huff with the shake of my head, finishing off my drink.
“And what about his father?” His question surprises me, because in the last week I haven’t thought about Reed’s dad even once. Fuck.
“Did you get what I asked?”
“Almost.”
The one word has me rethinking everything that happened last week, wondering if Reed had the choice. If his father was out of the picture, would he allow himself to choose me?
“Then make it hurt, but keep Reed out of it.”
That’s the last thing I remember before I pass out.
When I wake up, sunlight is pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows, which I insisted were perfect when the guys and I first moved in, and now I’m cursing every single one of them.
The smell of fresh coffee wafts into my nostrils, and I blink toward the kitchen to find Cade sitting at the breakfast bar with his phone pressed to his ear and his laptop open on the table.
“No, move the shipment to Sunday night, the King approved it,” he says calmly, clicking away at his keyboard, but the second I shift, his eyes snap up to meet mine.
“I don’t give a fuck what it costs, get it done,” he snaps down the line, before ending the call without waiting for their response.
He closes the laptop and pours another cup of coffee, before walking over and handing it to me.
“Thanks.” I take it gratefully, knowing it was late whenever I fell asleep, and I can tell by the grogginess and the fact I still feel drunk, that I can’t have slept more than four hours.
Caden’s phone rings again, but he silences it and keeps his focus on me. “When did the nightmares start?”
My throat burns and I don't trust myself to speak, so I don't, but I know he sees the answer in my stare.
For the first time ever I see something akin to regret in his stare, before he gives me a once over, “Bobby will be here to pick you up in half an hour,” he states firmly, walking back to the kitchen.
“What the fuck for?” Caden doesn’t respond, so I down my coffee and follow him back to the island. “I don’t want to see anyone, tell him not to come.”
“Can’t, Aunt Carol threatened me with bodily harm if I don’t get your ass to go home,” he replies with a smirk, and I internally curse at the mention of my mom.
It’s shitty of me that I haven’t been to see her since I’ve been back, and guilt instantly fills me.
So despite how I feel, I do the decent thing and get showered and changed, while Caden waits for Bobby to come get me.
We drop him off at The Underground on the way, and then it isn’t long until we are pulling up outside my parents’ house.
My dad will be at The Academy, despite the fact it’s Saturday morning, so I know my mom will be home alone.
I already know where she will be, so I make my way to the garden, and sure enough, I find her kneeling beside one of her flower beds, half covered in dirt.
Like always, she senses me before she sees me, her head lifting at my presence, and I force myself to smile.
I expect her to return it since I haven’t seen her for four months, but the second she meets my stare, she frowns.
She stands up immediately, brushing the soil from her gloves, before she signs, Wild, what’s wrong?
Her hands move gracefully through the air, and it’s only now I realize just how much I have missed her.
Nothing. I sign, but she gives me a pointed look.
Don’t lie to your mother.
I contemplate where to even start, what to even say, but whatever look she sees on my face is enough, because she opens her arms and I walk straight into them. She wraps me up like she always has, one hand rubbing slowly across my back, and I hadn't realized just how badly I needed this.
After a long minute, she pulls away just enough to look at me. Come on, I’ll make us a coffee and you can tell me what happened.
Before long we are sitting on the back porch, with steaming mugs on the table in between us, watching the stream that trickles behind their house. Of course she doesn’t say anything, just waits me out, like she always used to do when I was a kid.
I fell in love, but we can’t be together. I sign the words as quickly as I can, hoping she misses them completely, but I have no such luck.
So that’s it, is it? I shrug, and she studies me carefully.
You know your grandfather didn't like me when I first met your father. I blink back a little at that, because it’s the first time I have ever heard her say that.
As far as I am aware my grandfather loves her.
She must sense my train of thought, because she rushes on.
He loves me now of course, but back then I was the poor girl with a mountain of medical bills, and he thought your father could do better.
I can’t imagine that at all. So what happened?
She looks at me like the answer should be obvious, and smiles as she signs.
Your father fell in love with me anyway.
A smile tugs unwillingly at my mouth, as we both watch the breeze brush against her flowers, before she finally turns back to me.
The point is, we can't choose who we fall in love with, Wild, but we can choose what we do about it.
If only she were right.
He told me we couldn't be together.
She watches me for a long moment, then a smile appears. Since when has what anyone else wanted ever stopped you? Her hands become more animated. You've spent your entire life refusing to accept the first answer someone gives you, so why is this any different?
I don’t know how to tell her the answer to that, because I don’t know it myself, so instead I pick up my coffee and wonder how I could possibly get as lucky as she and my dad did.