Fighting Fate (Endgame #4)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  I shrug. “You pick.” I reach over and pluck a soda for both of us as the beginning of Coyote Ugly starts. I wink at her— she knows me like no other. My dad rushes in with a big bowl of popcorn and I crumble.

  Stupid air filled kernels wreck me. Maybe it was Deacon’s comment at the hospital, or it might be the fact this was a ritual this past year with Caden and me. Movies, popcorn and soda. It was the one time he cheated with his eating habits and we curled into one another, he always indulged in whatever movie I chose and spent the evening running his fingers through my hair. I’d more often than not fall asleep during the movie but he’d carry me to bed, settle in close and hold me. Some nights I woke, aching and needing him and he didn’t disappoint. “Take it away!” My volume echoing off the walls and my moms’ shocked face would be priceless if I wasn’t being stabbed over and over with a serrated edged knife. Each plunge took a chunk of my heart with its entrance and loosened another on exit.

  Repetitively.

  Her body covers mine; my dad shuffles close holding both of us. “Fucking popcorn,” I manage and I’m sure they think I need to be institutionalized.

  “What was that honey?” My mom strokes my face and the terror staring at me from her eyes makes me writhe in guilt.

  “Memories.” She nods and my dad exits now that he knows I’m not gonna turn into a mad woman.

  “Mom, I’m so confused.” I admit as I lay my head in her lap. Her fingers tangle in my hair but it’s soothing.

  “About what?” It’s a loaded question.

  “Love.” I sigh. “It isn’t anything I thought it would be.”

  “You’ve been happy with Caden. Isn’t that what you expected?” It’s hard to put into words.

  “Yes. I thought it would be perfect. Fall in love, get married, the end. It hasn’t been that. Yes, some of our hurdles were our own doing— save the lecture.” She tugs a strand of hair with my sarcasm. “But this . . . how do you plan for this?”

  “Oh Aves. Life isn’t perfect. You reach for perfection and your idea of it in all aspects of your life. But you can’t with love. It’s fate. A leap of faith. It scares us. It confuses us. It can be messy, confusing, eternal, and unpredictable . . . but its life. If you question love, if you don’t give into it, be it fleeting or everlasting— you’re missing the best part of life.” Her eyes are misty as I stare up at her.

  “What if he doesn’t remember? The best years of my life I spent hiding and they’re over? It isn’t fair.” I eke.

  “It isn’t fair. Nothing about this is fair. It’s heartbreaking. It’s outta the blue. It’s confusing. And if he doesn’t remember— you will. And that has to be enough. But you’re lucky.” I roll my eyes. “Some go their entire life without feeling a fraction of what you do. They don’t experience a love you shared. Would you rather of missed that time with him?”

  “No.” I accept what she’s saying. “I couldn’t give up that time. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even his memory.” We don’t speak, the message is conveyed. Loud and clear.

  I spend a few days at home but he’s being released today and I don’t want to be in the same neighborhood. They’ve confiscated all his communication, and I know he doesn’t have many memories after high school at home. I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the hospital— I needed a fucking break.

  Nine days seems like a lifetime. It’s only been nine fucking days since the accident but my entire life has shifted. I pull into the driveway and Breck meets me at the door. I notice her ring finger is sporting a new ring that is near blinding. “Congrats.” I pull her into a hug and I mean it. Mason and Breck deserve everything.

  “We didn’t want to make a big deal with all that happened.” She admits.

  “Hey. Don’t let anyone rain on your parade. You deserve this. Mason deserves this. I am happy for you and if I’ve learned anything— don’t put anyone’s feelings in front of another’s. It isn’t worth it.” She takes my bag and I shuffle through the mail piled amid the other junk scattered all over.

  I rip open the letter and stare at the deadline. I have five days to decline Prague. “You going?” She comes to read over my shoulder. I stare, no answer formulated. “Listen to me for a minute. The distance sucked for Mace and me but it was the best thing. My mind was able to focus on something other than pain. I was able to lose myself in my photos and I think it would be healing for you to do that with painting. Now, if he regains his memory before you have to leave, I wouldn’t dare let you board that plane. I’m proposing that you to accept— with a contingency.”

  I open my mouth to argue but the doorbell stops me. I open the door and stop breathing. Lilac, salmon, and white colored roses mixed with black dyed baby’s breath stare at me. Like every fucking month. How could I forget? My knees hit the tile and the sounds emitting from me sounds like an episode of National Geographic. Attached to the vase is a bundle of chocolate. He’d started doing this two years ago. The arrangement and rations to see me through the next three to five days. My period passage of sorts. The guy stares at me, but Breck takes the flowers and candy, pushing him from the doorway and sets them down as she drops next to me. “Oh, Aves.” She rocks me until I calm.

  I stand, stare at the offensive offerings to ease mother nature pains and decide I hate fucking flowers. I can’t hate chocolate because that’s sacrilegious and I may still get sainthood. I pick up the glass and hurl it against the wall. But my aim sucks and it goes right through the kitchen window. “Fuck him. Fuck it all.” Brecklynn grips my hand and drags me outta the kitchen. I pick up the letter, call the number listed at the bottom and wait for an answer. “This is Avery Michaels. I’m calling to accept the offer to study in Prague for the street painting.” I confirm my email, and with the promise they forward my itinerary by end of day, I end the call.

  “I called Brody. He and Deacon are gonna be here to board the window until we can get it repaired.” She stares, waiting for my next rampage.

  I hate to disappoint— it isn’t coming.

  I’m empty.

  “I’m going to Prague.” I announce.

  “I heard.” She replies.

  “This sucks.” I admit.

  “Big, fat, hairy, donkey balls.” She agrees.

  ***

  My parents are supportive but apprehensive. They feel I was rushing things— and I am. I need the escape. I leave tomorrow and I promised I’d meet at Caden’s for dinner with the crew. Things are still touchy with what we can say and do . . . but his doctor thinks normalcy is what he needs. It may trigger something.

  “Ready?” Brecklynn has been my shadow the last few days. She’s packing, ready to start her life with Mason and when I return from Prague, she won’t be here.

  “No.” I toss her my keys, I find myself zoning into space and don’t want to risk driving.

  “Your parents meeting us there?”

  “Yeah.” I inhale.

  “Do you think you rushed this decision?” She isn’t accusatory, just wondering where my head is. My emotions are so bottled I can’t pick up a paintbrush, a pencil— I’m blank.

  “Yes. No. Fuck if I know. I don’t know up from down. Left from right. A piece of me is gone. Missing. The steady part of me, the one person who grounds me, frees me— he’s fucking gone.” Tears escape and I growl my frustration. I’m a fucking faucet of late.

  “Hey. It’s okay. You don’t have to know that stuff. Everything is in limbo and your feelings are normal. I just don’t want you to leave because you feel pressured. I know I talked it up— but the decisions that worked for me may not be what you need.” She grips my hand as she pulls into the driveway. I see my parents waiting in the driveway and sigh with relief.

  “I get it, Breck. And if something drastic happens in the next few hours, I won’t go. I need a sign. Something . . .” She nods her understanding.

  My mom pulls me to her side and my dad kisses my temple. “You ready baby?” His gruff voice surrounds me and gives me the strengt
h to take that first step.

  The laughter is rambunctious when I walk in . . . I’ve avoided him the past eight days while everyone else bonded or re-bonded with him. It’s evident. Darby is in his lap, Julie is sitting in front of him, Kinsley has a grip on Brody and all the adults wear huge smiles. Within seconds all the parents disappear to the other room leaving us— a fractured crew here. Breck goes to her brother, giving him an embrace while he holds her a bit longer. Her moving to New York is fucking with him. Passing the torch to Mason has been tough and thank goodness he’s had Emberlee and Darby.

  “Glad you could join us.” Caden’s tone has a bite to it. I nod and don’t say a word. Meeting his eyes my heart catches, my body seizes— the years of love erased.

  Chapter Three

  Caden

  She’s been scarce— the sole person who hasn’t been up my ass. Besides Mason, but that fucker Skype’s me nine hundred times a day. I told him they’re gonna cut his ass if he spends all his time, like a girl, chatting through the phone. He’ll save some money on cups with the pussy he’s growing. I stare at her face, wanting a reaction. A fucking smile, wave, middle finger but I get nothing. “Glad you could join us.” My voice sounds menacing to my ears and her face crumbling makes me feel like an ass. I keep fucking up with her and I don’t know how to stop.

  She stares, her eyes searching me for something— if she’d just tell me I’d give her whatever the fuck she needs. Instead she takes a seat , flanking the opposite side of Deacon— the furthest from me. “Hey.” Her greeting sounds hollow, as if she’s mimicking the empty feeling inside of me.

  I study her from head to toe. Something is amiss. Narrowing my eyes, I look to her neck. Nope, the fucking chain and ring still there. “You packed?” Saylor probes her.

  “Yeah.” Her eyes are finding the patterns of the tile fascinating because she won’t look at anyone.

  “Where you going?” I question. And why the fuck didn’t I know she was planning a trip.

  “Prague.” I didn’t hear her correct.

  “Funny. I thought you said Prague. As in the Czech Republic.” I hand Darby to Emberlee so I can stand. I get dizzy spells and I won’t endanger that angel. This week she’s been clingy and though I don’t remember her— she’s rooted in my heart.

  “I did.” Her eyes meet my face, a spark of defiance in her eyes.

  “No fucking way.” I growl.

  “Calm it down.” Emberlee whispers to me.

  “I’m going to study under a famous street artist.” She’s matter of fact and it hits me. She isn’t covered in paint. I stalk to her, grip her hands and flip them over. Studying her nail beds— clean.

  “Why aren’t you covered in paint?” I demand an answer.

  She shrugs. “I’m taking a break.”

  I bark in laughter. “But you’re flying to another country to do just that.” Brody claps my shoulder and pulls me back. Shit, I’m just asking a question and pointing out the obvious to her.

  “Let’s take a walk.” I shrug his hand off and beeline to the kitchen to disappear in the backyard. Everyone seems to be walking on eggshells regarding her and it pisses me off. They act like my words are gonna tip her over the edge. Fuck— I don’t know why she’s behaving so touchy and nobody will explain that shit to me. Doing the breathing exercises the therapist showed me, I slow my heartbeat and calm my temper. It seems to be on the brink of exploding constantly— the unknown. I don’t fear it, I fucking crave it and my past is being an elusive bitch.

  My breathing slows, I don’t feel my blood pounding in my ears any longer, so I retrace my steps and join my friends as my mom finishes setting the dishes on the sidebar. We all pile up plates and sit down. Deacon’s phone starts ringing and he chuckles. “Mason’s calling.”

  Again. He’s called my mom’s phone three times today— because all my shit has been confiscated. He hits accept and Mason’s ugly mug fills his screen. “Damn. You’ve changed in the three hours since you last called.” I deadpan. In return I get his middle finger.

  Deacon spans the room with his phone so Mason can see everyone is here. “Feeling better?” His question is for me.

  “Yeah. I’m hoping to get the all clear to begin light weights tomorrow.” He fist bumps the air.

  “You are getting soft in the middle.” He grins.

  “Fuck you. When you coming home?”

  “Hopefully Thanksgiving. I still haven’t been bumped to full time pitcher on the roster, but after the last break, I don’t think they’ll let me take another impromptu trip.”

  “Damn. I need my wingman. My dick is dry and needs to be dipped in some pussy.” His eyes go wide, Brecklynn gasps and I feel like an ass. “Shit. Sorry. I forgot.” Story of my life.

  Avery pushes from the table and looks to Brecklynn. “There’s my sign.” She hurries from the room and I stare after her in confusion. It isn’t like she hasn’t heard us talk shit regarding the pussy we pull, so I don’t know what crawled up her ass.

  The phone call is strained after my slip up and my frustration grows. I didn’t mean it, but it’s fucked up. I pull Brecklynn into the kitchen. “I’m sorry. For so long it was Mace and me and I’m still in that time.”

  She steps to me and gives me a hug. A tad awkward at best for me, because I don’t know what history we have to make her comfortable enough to hug me. “I know, Caden. I’m not mad. This is fucking tough— for all involved.”

  I nod and give her a squeeze. “He loves you. I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”

  “Yeah, he does. And I love him.” She smiles.

  “And that rock weighing down your hand doesn’t scream micro penis syndrome at all.” Saylor giggles as she enters the kitchen.

  She walks over and high fives me and I shrug clearly missing the joke. “That’s my cue to exit the conversation.” Breck backs away and shakes her head.

  “What was the high five for?” I ask Deacon’s wife.

  “Oh, that’s a sore subject with Mason. He’s protective of his baby penis.” She bites her lip and I bend in laughter.

  Avery returns and empties her plate in the trashcan, she didn’t eat a bite. “I’m off. I have to be at the airport at the ass crack of dawn.” She informs us.

  “I thought your flight was at noon.” Emberlee jumps up.

  “Change of plans. My flight is at four a.m.” She grabs her purse and Breck stands.

  “Since when?” Saylor stands and joins them.

  “Half an hour.” She hugs both girls and finds her way to Deacon and Brody. She pauses next to me and pats my fucking head. “Take care. Hope you get better.” Yeah— sounds convincing. I stand and crowd her, wrapping my arms around her and picking her up so she’s forced to give me a fucking hug. I lost my mind not the years of friendship we had. I’m wondering which one of us took a hit to the head.

  “Stay safe and call.” I whisper in her ear.

  “Sure.” She murmurs but I feel her lips press to my cheek and wish I’d have turned my head. I place her feet back on the floor and we all walk them to the door. It closes and I feel the distance. She hasn’t boarded the plane and I feel there’s a million miles separating us.

  “How long is she gonna be gone?” I inquire to nobody in particular.

  “Six weeks.”

  “I can’t believe her parents let her go.” I don’t like it one bit.

  “She’s almost twenty-two. We graduate in a week.” Deacon bites. It becomes clear to every single one of us . . . she won’t be here to celebrate with us.

  “I’d have never thought we’d be miles apart for graduation.” I whisper.

  “I graduated two years ago bitches.” Emberlee taunts and that’s news to me. Fuck, the new President is news to me.

  “But you’re still here.” I level her with a gaze.

  “About that . . .” She trails off.

  “What?” Deacon needles.

  “Thanks to Mason, Brody’s been offered a position as assistant trainer.” She
leans into him.

  “No. Darby and Kinsley are supposed to be best friends. Grow up together.” Saylor wipes her eyes.

  “Uh, it isn’t Timbuktu . . . there are planes, trains, and automobiles.” Emberlee rolls her eyes.

  “This sucks.” I groan.

  “What?” Lee Lee steps close to me.

  “We’re all grown up and I’m missing the years that shit happened.” I turn and escape the sympathetic eyes, the daunting realization that I possibly won’t graduate because I don’t know if I’ve taken my exams . . . what was I gonna do after graduation. It’s all a blank canvas and there is a certain artist I would trust to paint it. But she’s shown with her actions she doesn’t have an interest in that endeavor.

  I have a future that I can’t plan for and a past that refuses to surface.

  **Releasing June 26, 2017**

  Acknowledgements

  Readers – Thank you. Two words that say so much.

  I write for me. I write for you. I write because without an outlet for the characters talking to me I’d be institutionalized. I appreciate each and every one of you reading the tales I weave. For recommending me. For reviews. For all your kind words.

  My betas. Thank you for all the encouragement. The amazing notes, the thoughtful cheering, telling me I suck when I do and telling me I kick ass when I string a sentence or paragraph together that rocks.

  My readers group – When I get the chance I love giggling with you girls…

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Leigh Ann Lunsford is a stay at home mom turned author. She writes Romance/New Adult and loves her happily ever after in all books and movies. She lives with her husband, son, and four dogs in Fleming Island, Florida. When she isn’t writing or reading you can find her stuck in front of really bad reality shows. Leigh Ann has a filthy mouth and a huge amount of sarcasm that knows no end. She hopes to give the voices in her head an outlet with many more novels to come.