Unbroken (Fighter Erotic Romance #4)

by Scott Hildreth

  I looked at A-Train and shook my head as I rolled my eyes, “Damn, Ripp too much information. That’s gross.”

  “It ain’t gross, bro. It’s when Jessie had enough. She wanted out. So anyway, Vee turns to me and says Ripp my water broke. And she just stands still lookin’ at the floor, like she’s in shock. Hell I went runnin’ over there and I slipped in this shit and fell on my ass. Now, I stand up, and I’m covered in baby water. So I get up, pick her up, and fuck…you know me, I’m all excited. I take off for the door, screaming. I slip again, and drop her to the floor. Just bam! Vee hits the floor and starts moaning. And we ain’t even in the clear yet. I’m still swimming in this puddle of slimy shit, and trying to get her to the car. So, I pick her up again, and the entire bowling alley is holding their hands over their mouth, lookin’ at me like I’m some drunk that can’t walk.”

  I looked up at Ripp and began to laugh, thinkin of him excited and covered in Vee’s baby water.

  “Now, I step to the side, get me some good solid ground, and I take off for the door like I’m a runnin’ back for the Dallas Cowboys. After I got her in the car, we hauled ass for the hospital, and the rest of that story you know. But here’s the rest of the story,” he paused and raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion.

  “So there’s more?” A-Train chuckled.

  “Oh hell yeah. Fucking cocksuckers. Listen to this,” he nodded his head and reached for his beer bottle.

  After drinking the remaining beer from the bottle, he waived at the waitress and raised two fingers in the air, ordering another round of beers.

  “Okay, so this entire time, I ain’t got time to think about checking out or turning in my shoes. Or payin’ for that matter. I’m worried about Vee and Jessie. So, we haul ass outta there, and we have the baby. A week passes. Now I got these chicken-shit five dollar vinyl tri-color bowling shoes I wore out of there. And I got the ones Vee was wearin’. You know, even preggo she wears Jimmy Choo’s or whatever. So, I go to the bowling alley to take the shoes back, and this little prick says thank you Mr. Ripton for returning the shoes, we’ll waive the cost of the bowling, but we don’t have your shoes any longer,” he placed his hands on his hips as if preparing us for the punchline.

  “So I look at this little prick, and I say, Mr. Ripton is my father, who you tryin’ to impress peewee? Now give me the fucking shoes before I snatch your skinny ass over the counter. See, they got my best Ed Hardy’s, and I ain’t havin’ that shit,” he paused as the waitress dropped two more beers off at the table.

  “And he says we don’t have them. And I look over the counter and say you said ‘any longer’. Where’d they go?” he reached for his beer, shrugged his shoulders, and took a drink.

  “Now, to make a long story short, I pull this little fucker over the counter, and he tells me they decided to snatch our shit and sell it on Ebay. On motherfuckin’ Ebay. Some shit for brains fucker in Japan or Malaysia or Great god damned Britain is gonna be wearin’ our shoes. Wanna know why?” he raised his eyebrows again and took a drink of his beer as he focused on me.

  I shrugged my shoulder, “Why?”

  “Because of you,” he snapped as he nodded his head sharply toward me.

  He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, “Those fucktards sold my shoes under the claim I was the future Heavyweight Champion of the World’s sparring partner and best friend. Can you fucking believe that shit?”

  I picked up my water and took a sip from the cup, somewhat annoyed. I have spent the majority of my life attempting to fly under the radar of the public. Keeping to myself and living a life without the influence of outsiders has always been my intent. Being under the watchful eyes of the general public, and living with their scrutiny of me and my lifestyle choices isn’t something I have ever desired. In fact, I prefer to be left alone. The thought of any of what Kace and I do being exposed to the public without our desire or knowledge is unsettling.

  “Did you hear me?” Ripp asked.

  “I heard you,” I sighed.

  “Sorry Ripp. I really don’t want any of this. I want to fight the fight, and I’d love to win it, but I don’t want shit like this going on. I really don’t. I’ll pay for the shoes,” I grumbled.

  “It ain’t that big of a deal. It’s just funny, really. Fuck it. SO, how’s Casey?” Ripp asked as he pulled his chair from the table and began to sit.

  “Casey’s doing just fine,” A-Train responded.

  Ripp turned toward A-Train and smiled as he shook his head lightly, “Dude, you got to drop the baby. You need therapy. That poor kid is gonna have callouses from you fingerin’ him all damn day. Jesus, A-Train. Every time I’m over there, you’re walking around holdin’ that poor kid.”

  “Hey, someone’s gotta pay him a little attention. You damned sure haven’t, uncle Ripp. Shane should have named him something else. I love that damned kid, he’s gonna make a fine man someday,” A-Train nodded.

  Rarely do we see people change in front of our eyes. Sometimes, after the passing of a reasonable period of time, two or three years maybe, we’ll see subtle changes in a person who we are familiar or intimate with, and look back at the person they used to be and acknowledge change. The change, be it good or bad is recognized in comparing the former person to the current person. Seeing significant change in a person over a short period of time rarely happens.

  A-Train had changed in the last few months. After the birth of Casey, he had become quieter, more relaxed, and somewhat compassionate. The changes are certainly welcome, especially with Kace. I, on the other hand, have a difficult time understanding just what happened to cause change him so drastically in a short period of time. Hopefully, he’ll slowly make whatever adjustments are needed to allow him to forget the atrocities of the war he continues to mentally wallow in. Time, I suppose, will tell.

  “And Jessie will make a fine woman,” Ripp said as he raised his beer bottle in the air.

  I leaned forward in my chair and raised my glass of water. As our drinks clanked together over the center of the table, A-Train nodded his head and smiled.

  “Here’s to living, loving, and leaving the past where it belongs. Behind us,” A-Train said as he lifted his bottle.

  Living.

  Loving.

  And.

  Leaving the past where it belongs.

  Behind us.

  KACE. There are people who are always looked up to by their friends, family and associates based on what they have earned, obtained, or acquired. The amount of money or belongings a person has is in no way a means of measuring their worth as a person. I would like to live in a world where people could obtain points for being kind, considerate and caring. The people with the most points would be viewed by their peers as being more valuable based on their ability to actually provide something meaningful to the world they live in.

  Having a family and doing things as a family is something I have always wanted, but never really had. Josh and I were in a relationship since I was a teenager. He prevented me from seeing my mother, which caused our relationship to deteriorate. Although I have seen her since Shane and I met, she hasn’t expressed any desire to spend much time with me. I took Casey to see her once, but she has yet to come see him on her own. As disappointing as this may be, I am grateful I have my adopted family – even though they may be crazy.

  “Hand me the taters, and pass Casey this way, Katie,” Ripp’s father said.

  “Pop, he ain’t a bong. Stop passin’ that damned kid around the table like your hittin’ a joint,” Ripp grunted.

  I laughed as I watched Katie hand Casey to Manda, who handed him to Vee, who handed him to Ripp’s father. Without a doubt, Casey would grow up more loved and cared for than most babies. Seeing this type of acceptance from the group was very satisfying to me. As Vee handed the baby to Mr. Ripton, he held him with one arm while he ate with the other.

  “You shouldn’t smoke marijuana, Michael,” Ripp’s mother said.

  “I ain’t smokin
’ pot, mom. I’m talking about passin’ that kid around like a fuckin’ joint. We ain’t at a college frat party hittin’ a bong. Put the kids down and let’s fuckin’ eat. Jesus,” Ripp chuckled.

  “Don’t cuss in front of the god damned kids, Mike,” Mr. Ripton snarled.

  Ripp’s mom looked up over her fork and shook her head at Mr. Ripton. Shane started to laugh so hard he began to choke. Before long, the entire table was laughing.

  “What?” Mr. Ripton said as he shoved another spoon full of mashed potatoes into his mouth and looked around the table.

  “You cussed to get us to stop cussing,” I smiled.

  “I did not. Now let’s eat.”

  Alec sat with Jessie in his lap, his chair placed away from the table more than everyone else’s. As he picked at his food, he talked softly to the baby and listened to everyone else talk. Alec didn’t always talk, and when he did, he generally just answered a question someone asked him directly. If he ever spoke for very long, it was almost always a war story that he tried to relate to the topic being discussed. Lately I have seen change in him, and I must say I like it. I think all of the babies around have softened him up. He spends a lot of time around our house with Shane now, and always offers to watch Casey so Shane and I can go out to eat or on a date.

  Having friends and family like Alec and Ripp is what I always dreamed of. I turned to Shane and smiled, secretly hoping times like this could last forever and ever. Some things just seem too good to last. This meal with family and level of love I see is one of those things.

  “So, Alec. Are you ever going to pop the question?” Ripp’s father asked as he cut his chicken breast.

  Alec looked up from Jessie, “Sir?”

  Oh crap, this is going to be good.

  “Katie. Are you ever going to ask her to marry you, or are you just going to keep rentin’ her?” he laughed.

  I turned toward Alec and grinned. The entire table was silent, waiting for an answer to a much unexpected question.

  Well?

  “Dad,” Katie sighed.

  Ripp’s mother continued to look down at her plate and eat quietly. She never really does much, and always stays fairly quiet. I think even though she spends a lot of time staring down at her plate, she really pays attention to everything around her.

  “It’s my intent to do so someday, yes. When I feel everything is in order, you’ll be the first to know, sir,” Alec responded.

  “Son of a bitch, Pop. What a way to put a guy on the spot. Holy fuck, let A-Train eat,” Ripp said as he gnawed at a piece of chicken.

  Uh oh.

  “No cussing at the table, Michael. And no nick names,” Ripp’s mother said quietly.

  “Well fuck, ma,” Ripp laughed.

  Oh shit, Ripp. You’re going to get in trouble.

  “Mike,” Ripp’s father howled.

  Told you.

  “Alright. I’m just sayin’, let the man be. Alec. Or whatever his real fuckin’ name is,” Ripp shook his head and dropped the chicken bone onto his plate.

  As I watched Ripp, I smiled. When Shane was in the hospital and Ripp came to comfort me was the first time I really spent time with him without Shane present. I was scared at first, but as time passed I realized he was simply trying to protect Shane from harm and prevent me from being in pain. When he told the lady behind the counter to call the police, I wondered about him maybe being crazier than I had originally thought. When he told her to call in the S.W.A.T. team because he really hated cops, I was sure he was crazy.

  But Ripp is just Ripp. He’s big and mean to most people but soft as a big teddy bear to us girls. I wouldn’t trade Ripp for anything. As Shane rubbed my inner thigh with his hand, I smiled and tilted my head toward him.

  I love you. His lips formed the words, but he didn’t speak.

  I smiled and gave him a light kiss.

  Shane leaving me was something I thought I would never recover from. I suppose Shane is no different than any other person, he’s human. Sometimes he seems superhuman to me, but he’s not. He makes mistakes like the rest of us, he just doesn’t make very many. When he makes them, he makes big ones. I had forgiven him completely for what he did, and for the most part, I’d already forgotten it. Shane was scared and he handled it differently than I did. No different than his father, Shane ran from what he didn’t feel comfortable attempting to understand or accept.

  “I saw that,” Vee smiled.

  “It was a peck. We weren’t making out,” I whispered.

  Vee smiled and glanced at Alec, who still held Jessie. As she lay in his forearms, he gently rocked her back and forth and leaned toward Bug and kissed her on the lips.

  “I saw that,” Vee laughed.

  Vee and I had become like sisters. She was intelligent, kind, and understanding of whatever I chose to talk to her about, regardless of the topic. She didn’t understand Shane’s leaving as well as I did, and still held a little bit of a grudge, but she didn’t hate him. I imagine as time passes, she’ll warm up to him again and things will be the same as they were before. For now, she’s a good sister to me, and I love her with all my heart. I look forward to many years of us playing with our kids while Shane and Ripp ride their bikes and train for the next match.

  Vee and I had spent many hours together before we had our babies talking about being mothers. Both being new mothers, and feeling as if we had no one to turn to for advice, decided we would eagerly assist each other. As our children grew older, considering their ages being the same, we felt we could help each other immensely. We would encounter the same issues and concerns at roughly the same stages in growth. Admittedly, we were both scared to death, and had reservations about our ability to provide sufficient care to our soon to be born children.

  I spent the majority of my pregnancy worrying about what mistakes I was going to certainly make.

  When I was a little girl, I caught a moth and held it cupped in my hands for the majority of the morning. I was probably six or seven at the time. As I made my way through the day, I carefully carried the moth with me everywhere I went. I was limited on what was able to do, because both of my hands were occupied in keeping the moth captive.

  I convinced myself the moth was mine, similar to a child. I had every intention of keeping it forever, and watching it grow old with me. I imaged building a large cage later in the day out of a cardboard box and some old window screen from the garage. During the morning, however, I felt as if I needed to keep the moth close to me.

  Content with the new addition to the family, I went to my room to listen to music. Often, as a little girl, music was my escape. My way of relaxing and developing a deeper belief of the world being a place of beauty, serenity and dance was to listen to my radio. Typically, I would spin in circles as the music played, watching the hem of my dress flare out as my legs tried desperately to hold me from falling. Inevitably, I would fall, and today was no exception. After thirty minutes or so of dancing with my moth, I sat on the edge of my bed. Exhausted from dancing, I eventually flopped onto my back on the bed and held the moth as I closed my eyes and relaxed into a dream like state.

  When my mother had lunch prepared, she called me to come and eat. As I lay on the bed still under the comfort of music, I slowly pulled my thumbs apart to peer into the comfortable home I had developed for the moth to live in.

  I couldn’t believe what I had done. Emotionally crushed, I opened my hands fully and stared at my palm. The moth, from either the many times I fell, or from the sweat which developed in my hands – or potentially both – had died. Wet and lifeless, it lay against my palm, stuck to my wet skin.

  Softly, I began to cry. Slowly, I walked to the bathroom and got some tissue. As I folded the moth in the tissue, I realized if left alone the moth would still be fluttering through the yard; living a life no differently than any other moth in the neighborhood. I was convinced the moth had died as a result of my poor nurturing skills.

  I placed the moth filled tissue in the wooden
box at the foot of my bed, in my diary. As I walked into the kitchen filled with shame, I accepted the fact I could never be a parent of any form of living being and do so effectively. As a result, I have never allowed myself to have a pet as an adult.

  Upon learning of my pregnancy, it was only a short time and the moth came to mind. I wondered if it may be an accurate representation of my lack of ability to be an effective mother.

  I glanced across the table toward Ripp’s father. “Pass me the joint,” I chuckled.

  Yeah, I think I’ll be just fine.

  SHANE. 6th street in downtown Austin is a place every tourist who comes to town has to see at least once. The majority of local responsible adults make an effort to stay away as much as possible on the weekends, due to the amount of drunken foot traffic the street sees. Flooded with drunks and disorderly hoodlums, the entire place is a circus, hence the nick-name Dirty Sixth – named after the filth which migrates toward the area on the weekends. There are no less than a dozen bars per block, and the street goes on for miles and miles. Entertainment value is very high, but there are certain risks associated with partaking in the fun. Two days from leaving town for the largest fight of my career we decided to celebrate amidst the local drunks for entertainment value alone. After all it was a Wednesday night, and the level of shenanigans was sure to be at an all-time low for the week.

  By my calculations, after our night on the town I would have a day to recover, another night to rest, and then we’d all fly to Atlanta for the big fight. After Ripp’s parents volunteered to watch both children, A-Train, Bug, Ripp, Vee, Kace and I went out on the town.

  “So Vee says, you change her diaper,” Ripp explained.

  “And I’m thinkin; it ain’t that big of a deal. Hell, how bad could it be? So I get little Jessie, take her to the plastic deal…”

  “Changing table,” Vee interrupted.