by M. N. Forgy
“I don’t hit people Tate, I love them.”
I palm my face.
“Oh my God, you’re a hippie. When did this happen?” I groan in disbelief.
“At least she listens to me,” Dad snides, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Right, because eating flowers, shitting rainbows, and getting smacked in the face by your boyfriend is ideal over me dropping out of school to fight professionally.”
They both look at me stunned.
“You’re what!” My dad rubs at his chin, his face as white as cotton. Shit, I didn’t mean to let that last one slip.
“Don’t even!” I point at him, warning him he’s edging on my last nerve.
“I forbid it!” Dad looks at me with a blister red face.
“Funny thing, I don’t care what you want anymore. You don’t want to fight that is your decision and your life. But, I’m living mine now.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to pick the fighter’s life when you have so much more going for you.” Dad shakes his head, not daring to look me in the eye.
“I’m not picking the fighter’s life, the fighter’s life chose me!” I point to myself, hollering so loud I can feel my face flush with anger. He used to be a boxer, a damn good one at that. It’s in my blood to fight, and I can’t help that.
“You need to relax.” Journey’s bushy brows peak. “Smoke some weed or something guys, geez.” Dad tilts his head to the side, shifting on his feet. “You smoke pot, Journey?” His question doesn’t come out like he’s angry anymore. No, it comes out as if he’s about to ask her for a joint. What the hell have I walked myself into?
Hollowing my cheeks I blow out an irritated breath and turn on my heels to head back toward Fiona and Chloe.
“You know what, I’m going back to bed. I don’t have the energy to deal with this right now.”
“Nice to know your best friend will let you sleep on her couch when you’re homeless!” Dad sneers from behind me.
Lifting my hand, I flip him off and keep walking.
“Glad to be home too, Dad!”
Camden Steel
A wave of thunder slams in my head, echoing into a storm of pain. Groaning I rub the heel of my palm into my eyes.
“UP!”
The blinds are pulled open and the damn sun from hell burns into my skin. Rolling over, I shove my head into my pillow.
“What the fuck Kaley?” Kaley is my assistant/publicist, and she’s a pain in my ass. One that won’t seem to go away. Everyone from my team has pretty much up and left when I went into hiding, except her. She’s either really stupid, or very loyal.
“Come on, today is the day we are going to jump back!”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” I hold my hand up interrupting her. Swinging my legs over the bed, I peel my left eyelid open and find her standing in front of the window with a hand on her hip, the other hand carrying a folder. “Today is the day for nothing. How many times do we have to do this before you get that?” She bites her bottom lip, and adjusts her thick black framed glasses. Shaking my head, I stand and stretch. My muscles are stiff and object to the strain. I grab my gray sweats off the floor and shuffle them up my legs, tying the strings snugly. Looking up I find Kaley eyeing me. I smirk, catching her red handed.
She wants the D.
“Okay well…” she mumbles, looking anywhere but at me. Her dark hair falling into her face.
Striding up to her, I flick a strand of hair falling in her face.
“Say the word sweetheart, I’m into the whole fucking my assistant so hard her glasses fog.”
Her cheeks flush, as she swats my hand away.
“Nice try Mr. Steele. I’m not interested.” Her chest rises as if she’s holding her breath. She’s lying.
“You sure about that?” Tilting my head to the side I can’t help but smirk. She adjusts her glasses and eyes the bed behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I find the girl I took to bed last night passed out. Her makeup is all over the pillow and her hair is frightful from all the styling shit she has in it.
“I’m not into sloppy seconds Mr. Steel.”
“Seconds can be just as satisfying as firsts Kaley.”
Swallowing hard, she fidgets with her hands.
“I need coffee.” Rubbing the back of my neck I leave the room heading to the kitchen. Heels click along the cemented floor, the smell of Kaley’s perfume making my head hurt more than it already is. It’s not from drinking either. More like the lack of. I’m a recovering alcoholic. At least that’s what the therapist, I’m ordered by the court to see weekly says. Setting up the Keurig I watch it stream hot water into the cracked ceramic cup.
“When are you going to unpack?” Kaley asks, stepping over boxes. Twisting my lips into thought, I look around the room. It’s a shit apartment compared to where I had been staying. It’s much smaller, and older. I think it was an old firehouse or something.
“What’s the point?” I won’t be able to afford rent here much longer. Fortunately for me, the people who were renting my parents’ house finally vacated, so I can live there if I need to. Only reason I haven’t yet is because of ghosts. Every time I step foot in that house, I can hear Tatum’s laugh haunt me.
“I don’t know, maybe it’ll help get that stick out of your ass if you sink your feet in somewhere.” I raise a brow at her flippant tone.
“So, the sports channel called and was wanting to set up a—”
“No.” I cut her off. We do this everyday. She tries to set me up with multiple promotional opportunities, and I always tell her no. Fighting in front of a camera… I’m over it. I’m done. My last stint made sure of that.
“Okay. The MFC wants to set up a fight with—”
“No.”
“Well, newscaster Tom Brenny wants an interview?”
“Nope.” I emphasis the p as I flip on the TV.
She sighs, lowering her clipboard.
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” She groans in frustration.
“Why are you still here? I haven’t paid you in three months, and you don’t want to fuck.” I shrug, grabbing my fresh cup of coffee. It’s not because she’s not good at what she does why I haven’t paid her. I can’t afford her anymore.
Her eyes fall as she adjusts her board.
“Because I refuse to believe you’re done. You’re Camden Steel, you don’t just quit.”
“Thanks Jen, this is the week everyone is preparing for Jake ‘The Snake’ Adams to return to Chicago today after his big win in the ring this weekend in Arizona.” My eyes focus on the TV as the morning sports channel comes on.
“If you remember Jake was born and raised here, and is one of two MMA fighters that flourished from this very city. Camden Steel is also from here, but as you may remember Camden’s fighting career came to a halt after his last stunt in Las Vegas,” Jen the news anchor continues and I cringe at my name.
The screen switches from the two of them to the footage of me racing down the freeway in a red Spyder with dozens of law enforcement right behind me, my hand reaches out of the window and flips off the helicopter that was hovering above. They love to show that one over and over. I wish everyone would just fucking forget it, and me.
“After the car chase that led him across Las Vegas, he has seemed to finally keep himself out of trouble, and the public’s eye. We tried to reach out to Camden and his team for an interview to explain his actions, and were told no comment in response,” news anchor Sharon informs everyone.
“Such a shame. Wherever he is, I hope he’s getting the help he needs,” news anchor Jen shakes her head.
“I agree. Hopefully the fame won’t get to Jake Adams.”
Turning the TV off I turn and slam the mug on the counter. Cracking it more. The heat on my face becoming unbearable. I need to get out of here.
“You gotta admit, that was some exit.” Kaley grabs my cup and takes a sip. My brows rise in surprise. “I’m not going anywhere, I know that
you will be back in that ring and I’m going to be here when you do.” She rests her elbows on the counter.
“Why?”
“It’s not everyday a newbie like me lands a celebrity like yourself. Sure they may have handed me over to you after you started your downward spiral, but I will be here when you return to the top.” I squint my eyes at her.
“You’re wasting your time. I’m not going back.” I don’t fight because of my demons. But the passion to still practice and just release the adrenaline is still there. I love fighting, I just don’t trust myself in a ring with competition.
“I don’t believe that. Now, tell me what I can do.”
I blow out an irritated breath. I need to hit the gym, my body feels wound up like a damn jack in the box.
“You want to help?” I grab my gym bag from the floor. “Get—”
“You can’t remember her name can you?” Kaley asks smugly. This isn’t the first time I’ve asked her to get my one-night stands out afterwards. I don’t like to deal with the ‘who calls who’ and shit afterwards. I feel bad when they want more and I don’t.
“Of course I remember her name,” I scoff. I don’t. After knowing each other’s names, comes feelings.
“Sure you do. I got it, like usual.” Kaley sighs so heavily, the hair in her face blows to the side.
I can’t help but smile in return.
She doesn’t want to go anywhere, that’s fine by me. She can take care of shit I don’t want to in the meantime.
Chapter Two
7 Years Old
Tate
“Come on baby, I need to get to the church, Mrs. Bailey locked herself out again and I’m the only other person with a key.” My mom shakes her head as she pulls the pie from the oven for our new next door neighbors. That’s my mom, always doing the right thing. Daddy says she has a big heart.
“Do we have to go over there?” I whine, pulling my hair into a tight ponytail.
“Yes. It’s the neighborly thing to do. Besides, they might have a little girl you can play with this summer. Wouldn’t that be ni- Tatum Davis, do you always have to put your hair up? It’s looks so pretty when you wear it down.” My momma puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head to the side.
Momma is always trying to girly me up. I hate it. To emphasize my disliking of such a thing I point my finger down my throat and act as if I’m gagging.
She laughs at my reaction and puts an oven mitt on to carry the hot pie.
“How come Journey doesn’t have to go?”
“Journey is at summer camp, you know that.”
“We can wait for her,” I suggest.
“Stop trying to get out of this. You’re going. Now come on, let’s go make some friends.” Rolling my eyes, I follow her out the front door. Why does she have to be so nice all of the time?
Crossing my arms I drag my feet as we walk next door.
A moving van is pulled onto the lawn of the blue and white house, and there’s a bunch of empty boxes along the curb.
“When we’re done I want you to head back home and clean up for supper. Daddy should be home from his trip soon and I want you looking your best,” Momma informs. My eyes perk as a big grin spreads across my face.
“Tonight? He’s coming home tonight?” I ask excited. Daddy is a professional boxer, and has been away for a week for a fight. I love it when he comes home, he doesn’t press me to be someone I’m not.
Pink dresses. Stupid hair bows. Dolls. I may puke if I keep going.
Maybe he will spar with me! I’m getting good at the right, right, jab.
Momma rings the doorbell and runs her hand along the top of my head before pulling the hair ribbon from my hair.
“Hey!” I smack at her hands, glaring up at her.
The front door swings open and a tall woman with blonde hair with streaks of black stands there. She has on a white blouse, and green khaki shorts. Her makeup has ran as if she’s been sweating or working out, leaving streaks of black around her blue eyes.
“Well hello there,” she greets with a friendly tone.
“Hi, I’m Marlow Davis! This is Tatum. I’m married to Nicky Davis. We live next door.” Momma points to our red and white house.
“I’m Kelly Steel, my husband Andrew is around here somewhere.” She smiles.
“Mom, I did what you asked can I go play now?” A boy with blonde shaggy hair walks around Kelly and stares up at her before noticing my momma and I standing here.
“Camden, this is Marlow and her daughter Tatum. They’re our neighbors.” His eyes never leave mine, as he assesses me.
“Tate. You can call me Tate,” I inform. Mom shifts the pie in her hands, and nearly drops it.
“Here, let me show you inside so you can set down that delicious looking pie,” Kelly laughs, waving my momma in. She looks down at me, her eyes telling me she really doesn’t have time for this because she needs to get to church, but Kelly wouldn’t know that look.
“I’ll- I’ll be right back,” she whispers.
“Okay.”
After our moms enter the house Camden stares at me awkwardly.
“What kind of name is Tatum for a girl?” Camden sneers, his arms crossed as he glares at me.
I scowl. “A cool one. What kind of name is Camden?”
He shakes his head. “Whatever.”
Chewing on my nail like Daddy does, I wait for Momma. Camden looks around the neighborhood and sighs. “This place sucks.”
Spitting my nail out I say, “It’s not so bad. There are a lot of other kids you can play with this summer, if that’s the kind of thing you’re into.”
His gaze locks with mine and I notice for the first time that his eyes are so blue they look like an aqua crayon.
“What do you mean? Are you not into playing with other kids?”
I shrug. “I don’t really like to do what the other kids do.” They like playing house, or drawing with chalk a lot. You can only draw so many flowers and rainbows with dust before it gets old.
“Oh yeah, and what do you like to do?”
I smile, excited he asked. “Fight. I like to box, and wrestle others.” I ball my fist up showing him how big it is, waving it between us.
This seems to grab his attention because he fists his hand too.
“I bet I can hit harder,” he insults.
Scrunching my nose, I punch him in the arm as hard as I can, pushing him back a step.
“Hey!” he whines, rubbing his arm.
“My daddy is Knock Out Nicky, so the bet wasn’t very fair.”
“Your dad is Knock Out Nicky!” He nearly bounces on his feet with excitement.
I smile proud.
“Yup, and one day—” He slugs me right in the arm, catching me off guard. “Ouch, that hurt!” My nose wrinkles with anger, my cheeks suddenly warming.
“Told you I can hit harder,” he taunts.
Having enough, I shove him.
“No you don’t!”
“Hey, don’t shove me.” He pushes me back.
Pursing my lips, my nose wrinkled, and brows furrowed I charge him like I’ve seen Daddy do to his opponent in the ring. Locking my arm around his neck I bring him to the ground. Daddy doesn’t do that, that’s my move.
“Get off me!” he struggles in my hold.
“Take it back!”
“Never! You hit like a girl!” He did not just say that!
“Oh yeah, well you hit like a boy!” I insult before punching him in the mouth.
My hit doesn’t seem to faze him, which distracts me. Why didn’t he cry?
Taking the opportunity he slips his arm around my body and wrestles for control. My head scrapes along the cemented porch and I cry out with pain.
“You going to cry?” He laughs.
“I don’t cry!” I try and jab my fist into his gut, but miss.
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” My momma scolds from behind us.
Suddenly I’m ripped from Camden, just as his mother pulls him from m
e.
“I’m so sorry about this Kelly!” my mother apologizes. “Her daddy boxes, and we’ve been having a really hard time teaching Tate it’s not okay to hit.”
“He started it first!” I point at Camden.
“No I didn’t, she did!” he lies, blood stinging his bottom lip. I smile at the victory.
“Camden!” His mother scolds. “It’s alright Marlow, Camden is no angel, he has a thing with fighting as well. He’s been expelled from school more times than I care to count.”
Momma pushes me in the lower back. “Go, get back home ‘for I give you a whipping!”
Glaring at Camden, I turn and head back home.
But not before sticking my tongue out at him first.
Chapter Three
Tate
Sitting on the steps of Chloe’s house I palm the cup of joe, and blow the steam swirling from it. It’s windy, and warm outside this morning. Sweat beads at the back of my legs as I embrace the quietness.
“‘Sup ho?” Chloe plops her ass right next to mine. “You going to see your dad this morning?”
Glancing up the street I spot my old man spraying bushes out front.
“Hell no.” I pick at the peeling paint of my nail polish. After our conversation last night, I think we both made it clear what we think of my being back.
Looking above the rim of my mug as I take another sip I eye the blue and white bungalow sitting next door.
“He still comes through here you know.”
My eyes snap to hers.
“What? Who?” I try to play off that I don’t know what she’s talking about.
“Camden, he comes through here a couple times a week. Checks on the house and things, some say he is renting the place out.” She looks down the street, her lips scrunched in thought. Hearing his name is a karate kick to my heart. Closing my eyes I see his face, his crooked grin, and perfect lips.
It hurts just as much today as it did four years ago. I miss him, and hate myself for leaving.
“He still lives here?” I point down to the ground. “Like in Chicago?”
“Yup. Ever since his falling out with the law. Did you hear about that?” She looks back at me, her perfectly plucked eyebrow raised. Camden Steel, my first love and first heartbreak. I tried hard to forget about him, but it was kind of hard when his face was plastered all over my TV as the next big thing that hit MMA. Last time I saw him, he wasn’t the little boy I left behind anymore. No, he was a beast that brought me to my knees in front of my television. I’d thud my head against the television screen while I chanted how stupid I was for walking away from that.
