by Abby Niles
Lance’s smiling face formed in her mind, followed by Amber. And Skylar.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I had to come back to prove something.”
“So your pride is what brought you back.”
“No. I—” She blinked. God, was that it? Had she allowed her pride to keep her from seeing she had other options?
Had she judged Lance for something she’d been doing herself? All he wanted was to pay the McNealys back on his terms. All she’d wanted was to return to Avery on her terms. Both of those motivations were fueled by pride. Both could have been resolved, had they allowed themselves to see their other choices.
She had other options, too, but deep down, she’d never be okay with feeling like she’d been run out of her hometown. Just like Lance would never have felt right cheating people out of their money to pay back the debt he owed. It would have eaten at him, just like her never coming back to Maine would’ve eaten at her.
What had she done?
She reached over and squeezed Jessie’s hand. “Yes. It was pride. It was important for me to return to Avery. It was part of my closure.”
“Do you have it now?”
“Not completely. I have one more thing I have to do.”
…
Ella gripped the steering wheel tighter as she stared at the brick front of the pizza parlor.
A lot of scenarios had gone through her mind since she learned of Randy’s release. All had revolved around him hunting her down in some dark location and making good on finishing her off. None had involved her hunting him down.
But that was exactly what she’d done. It had only taken a little bit of probing to find out Randy had taken a job as a dishwasher, and what schedule he worked.
She’d spent the last hour driving up and down the highway, working up the courage to pull into the parking lot. Now that she had, doubt crept into her decision. She hadn’t seen Randy since the night he’d attacked her. When he’d pled guilty to avoid a harsher sentence, she’d still been in the hospital recovering.
Now, she was within minutes of being face-to-face with the man who’d changed her life with one punch. This was the last chapter on her hellish journey to finding herself again.
Inhaling deeply, she opened the car door and went inside before doubt had a chance to change her mind.
A young woman at the cash register looked up and smiled. “Welcome to Antonio’s Pizza. How can I help you?”
Unable to speak, Ella stood there and stared at the woman. The woman’s smiled slipped, and confusion drew her eyebrows together. “Uh. Are you okay?”
Clearing her throat, she stepped forward. “I-is Randy working?”
The smile returned. “Yep. Sure is. He’s in the back. I’ll go grab him.”
The girl left through a swinging door. Ella’s insides twisted and she worried she was going to lose her stomach. This had been a horrible idea. She could still leave. She glanced at the door. She didn’t need to face Randy. She could find her closure without going this far.
She turned toward the door, then stopped herself. No. She had to do this.
If she didn’t, she’d always look over her shoulder. Would always wonder. Looking him in the eyes, she’d finally know for certain if the threat he’d made so many years ago was still a danger, or if those had been the words of a desperate, pathetic man hoping to keep out of trouble.
The door swung open and Randy stepped out, wiping his hands on a white towel. For a split second, her heart stopped beating as her throat closed tight, making breathing impossible. It was only when white dots formed in front of her eyes that she drew in a long, whistling inhale.
The man who’d almost killed her was right in front of her—but at the same time he wasn’t. Years before, he’d been a monster of a man. Today, he was…frail.
Randy looked up and froze outside the door, eyes wide. He shoved a hand through his thinning, dark hair. “Shit. You were the last person I expected to see.”
“I kind of feel the same right now.”
He took a step closer, then seemed to think better of it and moved farther away. “What do you want?”
It wasn’t asked harshly, but there was a confused intensity to his question, like he was having a hard time accepting that she’d sought him out. She could understand that.
What did she want? Closure, for sure. But she couldn’t stop looking at the skeleton that had replaced the man who’d beaten her so severely. His cheeks were sunken in, dark bags hung under his brown eyes. Those eyes—they were haunted in a way she’d seen reflected back at herself in the mirror.
“Are you sick?” she blurted out, not caring if it was rude.
“I wish. Maybe then there’d be an end to this nightmare.” He motioned toward a booth. “I figure you have some things to say. I do, too. Let’s get on with it.”
She did. Lots. But she couldn’t think of any of them right now. All she wanted to know was why he looked the way he did. Not taking her eyes off him, she scooted in the booth.
“I was told you left town,” Randy said, as he slid in across from her.
That caught her attention, and she stiffened. “You were asking about me?”
He seemed to look anywhere but at her—out the window, at the salad bar, the other tables. “Yeah. I did.”
“Why?” she forced out of her suddenly tight throat.
“To apologize.”
Her mind buzzed with confusion. He wanted to apologize? That didn’t make sense. Randy never apologized for anything.
“I see I’ve caught you by surprise.” A tight smile came to his lips as he shook his head. “You have every right to be shocked, especially after what I said to you. It’s not worth much. It will never make up for what I did to you, but it’s all I have. I’m sorry, Ella.”
She took a moment longer to digest his words before she swallowed. “What happened to you?”
“Years in prison is what happened to me.” Again, he avoided her eyes. “Prison itself isn’t so bad. I loved being locked in my cell. I was safe then. When they were open—” He shook his head.
She pressed her hand to her lips to cover the shocked gasp that erupted from her mouth. “You know what it’s like to be helpless.”
“In a variety of different ways.”
He didn’t elaborate on what he meant, but he didn’t have to. She understood.
“I can never take away what I did to you, but if it’s any consolation, prison changed me and I’ll never lay my hands on another human being again.”
This was not the Randy she’d lived with. He’d been strong, arrogant. This man was beaten down and weak. She pitied him.
“I believe you.” She didn’t need to hear any more. She had what she’d come for: closure.
She started to scoot out of the booth. When he lightly touched her hand, she jerked it away, and he instantly held up his palms.
“Sorry. I just have one question.”
She stared back at him.
“How does a person get over what happened to them?”
So he was looking for his own closure. “You never really do. It’s something that stays with you. It changes how you see people, the world. It changes how you respond to situations. You become someone you don’t know anymore. You have to find yourself again.” She paused for a moment. “I mean it when I say good luck with that.”
At peace for the first time in a very long while, she stood and walked out of the restaurant. She was done with this chapter of her life and ready—more than ready—to embrace the next one. She just had to convince a certain man back in Kansas to take that journey with her.
…
Lance stood outside his ex-wife’s home, waiting for Piper to answer the door. He’d waited long enough to have this conversation with her. It was time to find out if she would ever let him see his daughter again. He missed Skylar something fierce and as each day passed, it became harder and harder not to see
her. When the door opened, Piper crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”
Not the best way to start this conversation, but at least she’d answered the door.
“I want to talk.”
Lips pressed together, she roamed her gaze over his face, lingering around the dark bruise surrounding his eye, then nodded and stepped back. “Let’s go into the kitchen.”
He followed her down a hallway into the large country kitchen. She gestured toward the wooden table in the breakfast nook. “Coffee?”
“Yeah.” She was being civil. That was a plus.
“Still take creamer?” she asked as she made her way to the coffeemaker.
“Yep.”
After she made them both a cup, she sat down on the bench in front of him and slid a mug toward him. “What did you want to talk about, Lance?”
He closed his hands around the warm ceramic, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, then he looked up. “I have one more fight and the McNealys will be paid in full.”
Shock widened her eyes. “Jesus, Lance. What kind of agreement have you gotten yourself into now?”
He expected Piper would get the gist of what he was saying pretty damn quick. She knew the cousins too well. “I’m throwing the next fight.”
She shook her head, stared at him, then shook her head again. “Wait a minute. Did you actually say you were throwing a fight?”
“Not by choice, that’s for fucking sure. They asked me to do it once already and I refused. Now I have no way out of it.”
“I can’t see you ever throwing a fight. What are they holding over your head?”
“Believe it or not, it’s not them this time. I had to make the arrangement because someone else was trying to pay off my debt.”
She held up her hand and shook her head a third time. “Hold up a sec. Are you telling me someone was going to help you pay off your debt so you wouldn’t have to fight anymore?” She pointed to his face. “Have you looked in the fucking mirror?”
He ground his teeth together. He got it. He looked like shit. Why did everyone have to keep pointing it out? “I didn’t ask for her help. She didn’t even include me in that decision. She did it without even talking to me.”
“She? Is it this Kelsey, who Skylar talked about? The one that went with you two to the arcade? The pig lover?”
A weird sensation rippled in his chest at hearing that Skylar had talked about Kelsey to her mother.
“Yes.”
Piper straightened, an interested gleam in her eyes. “And you’re mad because she tried to help you?”
“Of course, I’m fucking mad. She did it behind my back.”
A short snort came from her. “Do you even hear yourself?”
“What?”
“I’ve said those exact words to you many, many times. Here’s the difference. She was helping you. When I said it, it wasn’t because you were helping us. You were hurting us. Was she in the right with the way she went about it? No. But you don’t get to cast stones.”
“This is different.”
“Why? Because you say it is? Because for the first time you’re on the receiving end of a decision someone made which you have no control over?” She leaned toward him. “Let me tell you something, buddy, it’s the exact same thing.”
“It’s not the same damn thing. Because of her butting in, I’m going to have to throw a fight. When did I ever make you compromise your ethics?”
“Are you serious?” she scoffed. “I compromised myself every time you left our house to gamble. I made excuses for you. Told myself you’d seen the error of your ways. You proved me wrong every damn time, until I could no longer fool myself.”
Stunned, Lance stared at his ex-wife, for the first time truly grasping what his decisions had put her through. “Jesus, I had no idea.”
“Of course, you didn’t. You never have, because this has always been about your pride and your inability to admit when you’re in over your head and accept help. It’s why you kept gambling, trying to win back what you lost, but instead, kept putting us deeper in the hole. You had to prove yourself.” She sighed. “Apparently, that part of you hasn’t changed.”
That was pretty much exactly what Kelsey had accused him of. He’d never really thought of it as letting his pride control him. He believed he was taking responsibility for his actions and paying back the money with no guilt on his conscience for throwing a fight. What he’d been doing was alienating the people who cared about him, who’d just wanted to help him. Lance reached across the table and covered her hands with his, squeezing. “I’m so sorry for everything I did, Piper.”
Turning her hand over, she returned the squeeze with a small smile. “You’ve apologized a lot over the years, but this is the first time I believe you really grasp what you’re apologizing for.”
“I do.”
“What about this Kelsey?”
God, he didn’t want to talk about Kelsey. He’d been a mess of fucking torn emotions since she’d looked him in the eyes and said she was going home and he’d watched her walk out of his life. At the time, he’d been so angry that he’d just let her go. It wasn’t until later that night, while he’d been lying in bed by himself, that he’d understood what her leaving had really meant.
She was going home…and she wasn’t coming back. She’d made her decision.
“She left.”
“Why?”
“The same reason you did.”
“You’re a stubborn, stubborn man, Lance Black. How about going after her?”
“It was going to end this way. She’d always intended to go back to Maine.” And as much as he wished they’d parted on different terms, he was proud of her for doing exactly what she’d set out to do. Heaving a heavy sigh, he leaned back. “Anyway, I didn’t come over here for a counseling session. I had a reason.”
“Skylar.”
“I miss my daughter.”
“She misses you. I’ve been torn between doing what’s right for her and keeping her away from you, and calling you up so you can visit her. I can say that I’m relieved to hear the McNealys will be dealt with. It makes this decision so much easier.”
Hope expanded his chest. “So are you saying I can see Skylar?”
“After you finish this fight, you can see your daughter again.”
Chapter Twelve
As the crowd cheered around him, Lance worked his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension knotting the muscles. The current bout was on its last leg, as one fighter had completely dominated the other for over seven minutes. Then it was his turn.
Bile churned his stomach. No matter what, he was going through with the loss, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. He would always look back on this moment as the time he took the easy way out. In hindsight, allowing Kelsey to help him and paying her back would’ve been the better option. Almost everyone in this room was betting on him to win, and he was intentionally going to make them lose their money. How many people in this building had put down the last of their money on a sure win?
He couldn’t think about it or it’d drive him fucking mad.
After the match ended by knockout and the fighters cleared the cage, the announcer said, “Ladies and gentlemen, on to the last fight of the night.”
Dread knotted his insides. He fucking hated every goddamn second of this, and just wanted to get it over with.
“In the blue corner,” the announcer said, and Lance started hopping from foot-to-foot, getting ready to run forward. “From Cheney, Kansas…Brittany Davis.”
Lance froze. What?
A muscular woman jogged into the cage then shadowboxed around the perimeter.
This wasn’t fucking happening. Did the McNealys really believe he’d fight a woman?
Not a fat chance in hell of that ever happening. He’d call the fight before it even fucking started.
“In the red corner…also from Cheney, Kansas…Ella Watts.”
The name made everything—his
mind, his body, his heart—stop as he processed the announcer’s shouted words. There was no way he’d heard the man correctly. But even as he tried to convince himself he’d been mistaken, Kelsey—Ella—entered the cage, blonde hair braided, padded MMA gloves on her hands.
What the hell was she doing?
He turned to a guy standing beside him holding a betting card and snatched it from his hand. The guy immediately balked, but when he registered the thief was a fighter, he held up his hands and mumbled, “Sorry, dude.”
Lance scanned the card, searching for his name. It wasn’t there. In the last event field, ELLA WATTS was typed in bold black letters…and this fucker had bet against her.
When he saw why, his heart caught tight. The odds were stacked against her in every way. This was her first fight—ever—while the woman she was going up against had a record of ten wins to one loss.
Holy fuck. He snapped his head up to stare at her. While they were almost the same height, Ella’s opponent was much more muscular, reminding Lance more of a woman pro wrestler than an MMA fighter. The women’s bantamweight division usually didn’t go over one hundred and thirty-five pounds, but with this woman’s muscle mass she had to be twenty to thirty pounds above that.
Ella was going to get her ass beat, and there was no way he could allow her to go through that again.
He rushed toward the cage, having to weave around the people that had closed in around the ring. Just as he made it ringside, the bell sounded, and the referee backed up a few steps, giving the fight over to the two women. They circled each other.
Lance’s lungs locked as he waited with increasing alarm for Ella to receive her first hit. She’d frozen every time he’d tapped her. She’d done pretty well with Amber, but those still hadn’t been full-out, all-strength-behind-them hits. As far as he knew, Ella hadn’t taken a real punch since Randy had attacked her. Unlike a trainer, her opponent wouldn’t back off.
What the hell would happen if that woman went apeshit on Ella?
