“That’s my fucking kid you’re pregnant with,” he said, jerking on her wrist. “Don’t fuck with me, Taylor.”
She tried to wiggle her wrist free from his grip. He let go and shoved her slight shoulders, sending her back slamming against a wide support post for the porch.
In an instant, memories flooded my consciousness. Things I tried so hard not to remember. But some darkness never goes away.
It wasn’t anger, but something much deeper, that made me fly out of the front door. Colton’s hand was clenched into a fist. I had to be fast enough to keep him from hitting Taylor.
A high-pitched wail came from my throat as I threw my body in front of Taylor’s. The crack against my jaw told me his punch had missed Taylor and landed on me instead. Thank God.
“Who the fuck are you?” Colton’s voice was cold and menacing. I closed my eyes just before his spit landed on one of my cheeks.
I raised my hands to cover my face, and my cell phone clattered from one hand onto the concrete porch. A second later, I heard a smashing sound.
“Who you gonna call now?” he said. “It’s just you and me. Not feelin’ so tough anymore?”
He was so close I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Reasoning with him didn’t seem to be an option. I couldn’t fight him, but I had to keep him from hurting Taylor.
“No,” Taylor said, working her way out from behind me. “Colton, no.”
“Get in the house, Taylor!” I cried.
“You stay right there,” Colton countered. “I’m taking you out of this fucking place.”
I opened my eyes and shoved myself against Colton, using all my strength to create distance between him and Taylor. He only moved a couple inches, and then his hands were on my ribcage, shoving me in another direction.
I was airborne. I realized as a snow-covered rosebush flew past in a blur that he’d thrown me off the front porch steps. An instant later, I landed on the concrete sidewalk, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.
All I wanted was to take a breath. I willed my body to do it, but I’d no more than gotten a deep breath and it was knocked away again, this time by a hard kick to my stomach.
Taylor was screaming incoherently. I had no hope of fighting back, so I curled into a protective ball. His fist contacted with my eye and I cried out from the pain.
“Bitch,” he muttered.
“Hey!” A man was yelling in the distance. “Get away from her!”
Colton looked up and I took my chance to roll away from him. I hurt everywhere, but my flight instinct forced me to try.
“I called the cops!” the approaching male voice said. I didn’t recognize the voice; all I knew was that it sounded like salvation right now. I still couldn’t seem to get enough air, no matter how hard I tried.
Colton took off into a run.
“April!” Taylor was at my side, cradling my head in her hands.
“Don’t touch her,” the male voice said. “We need to let the paramedics take care of her. Just hold her hand.”
He got to his knees, a blurry form at my side. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay now.”
I listened to his deep voice, letting it soothe me. My emotions were still swirling, hurting more than the physical pain did.
One of my eyes wouldn’t open, so I looked Taylor over as well as I could with the other one. She was okay. Her baby was okay. That was all that mattered right now.
PAIN RADIATED OUTWARD FROM my jaw after my opponent landed a solid right hook. Dammit. I’d left myself open to that hit.
I channeled all my energy to my right arm and fired back, landing a punch to his gut that made him double over. Nothing ever drove me to fight as hard as pain, in all its forms. Pain was, after all, the reason I’d started fighting.
“Douchebag,” my opponent muttered, glaring at me as he stood upright.
I smiled and held my hands up, gesturing toward myself in a way that said, ‘let’s go’ without any words.
This was my second fight of the day¸ and I was sore. But I had enough gas in the tank for one more after this. I’d won my first one easily, and I was close to winning this one a little less easily.
“Come on, old man,” my bald opponent said, grinning obnoxiously.
I scowled in disbelief. “Old?”
“Yeah, you are to a twenty-one-year-old. You got some silver in that beard.”
Mouthy little bastard.
My next body punch was a feint, distracting him enough for me to land a hook on his temple that sent him staggering backwards. He swayed on his feet for a second before dropping to the mat like a bag of bricks.
Yells and cheers of appreciation sounded from our small audience of onlookers.
“KTFO!” Hanks pumped his fist in the air. “First one today.”
I didn’t acknowledge the celebration, because I wasn’t into gloating. Instead I went to a bench on the sideline, pulled off my sweat-soaked t-shirt and used it to mop more sweat from my face. The gray fabric was stained with red streaks when I looked down at it. I reached up to my nose and felt a slight trickle of fresh blood. My face already looked like hell, I could feel it.
When I came to Bellator, I only fought the first couple days I was here. After that, I usually worked from my hotel room while I healed up. My family knew I liked to box, but I’d never hear the end of it if I showed up in Lovely with the kinds of injuries I got fighting at Bellator. No way I’d be able to convince them I’d just been sparring at a gym.
I needed a shower before my next round. I’d left my phone on one of the chairs on the sidelines, and I picked it up on my way to the bathroom, hoping April had texted me.
But when I looked down at the screen, I saw that the waiting message, sent twenty minutes ago, was from Reed.
Reed: Can u get over to Grieves House ASAP?
I was immediately concerned. Worried, actually, since that was April’s home. I typed out a fast response.
Me: I’m traveling, or I would. What’s going on there?
I just stared at the screen, my blood pressure rising with every passing second. I’d give him another thirty seconds to respond and then I was calling him.
Reed: Nevermind, Austin’s there. April was attacked by the crazy boyfriend of one of the girls. Ivy and I were in St. Louis with Noah but we’re on our way home now.
A barrage of emotions hit. I was furious, stunned and worried all at once. The feelings fought for control but I tried to swallow them. April was hurt. All the fuel I was banking for my next fight was now directed at the sorry piece of shit who’d done this to her. I’d find him and show him how it felt to be outmatched. But first I needed to know about April.
Me: What the fuck? Is she okay?
As soon as I’d send the message, I sent another one to April asking the same question. I sat down to wait for a response but jumped back up to pace back and forth just a second later.
Reed: Don’t know yet. Austin said she was conscious when he got there. She’s at the hospital now.
I shook my head after reading the message. My rage became an inferno that took over all rational thought. Whoever this guy was, he was getting fucked up.
“Drew,” I snapped to the guy closest to me. He was one of the original seven, and he knew me well.
“What’s—”
“Give me your shirt,” I said, cutting him off.
“My shirt? What the—”
“Your fucking shirt. Now.”
He pulled his dark t-shirt off over his head and handed it over.
“I’m out,” I said, sliding the shirt on over my head. “Have my stuff overnighted to my house. I’m going home.”
THE FLIGHT HOME SEEMED to take three times as long as the flight to Boston had. It was all I could do to stay in my seat. I’d had to power down my phone without hearing back from April. Reed had written back and told me he still didn’t know how she was.
The plane landed and I ran from the gate to my car, mumbling that I was fine to eve
ry person who stopped me to ask if I was okay. My face must’ve been a mess of dried blood and bruises, but I couldn’t take the time to clean it up right now.
Once I was in my car and on my way, I dialed Reed from my Bluetooth.
“Hey, man,” he said.
“How is she?”
“Didn’t you get my messages?”
“No. Will you just tell me how she is?”
“She’s okay. She’s got a black eye and a fat lip, and she’s really sore from being thrown off the front porch. They don’t think she’s got a concussion, but Ivy’s staying with her tonight just to be safe.”
My fists tightened around the steering wheel. “Thrown off the front porch? What the fuck? Who did this?”
“Taylor’s boyfriend. She’s one of the girls at—”
“I know who she is. Did he get arrested?”
Reed sighed heavily. “No. He got away, but there’s a warrant out for him. Apparently a guy out walking his dog intervened and called the cops, and that’s when he managed to run off.”
“I’ll find him,” I said, thinking out loud. “And I’ll gut that motherfucker like a fish.”
I was in a rage. I pictured sweet little April getting thrown from the porch onto the concrete steps and then being punched in the face. It made me want to rip the steering wheel from my car.
“He deserves it,” Reed agreed. “But don’t kill him or anything, Mason. Take a minute to cool down.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“When are you coming home?”
“I’m on my way now. I’ll be in Lovely in an hour.”
There was a pause before he spoke. “Are you coming back because of this? Because of April?”
“Yeah.” No reason to deny it.
“So you’ve really got a thing for her, then.”
“Whatever you want to call it,” I said. “I like her a lot, yeah.”
“Hmm.”
“What the fuck are you ‘hmm’ing about?”
“Jesus, you’re a surly prick tonight.”
“Can’t imagine why,” I practically growled. “You’re remarkably calm about the whole thing.”
“It’s not like I’m okay with it, Mason. But there’s nothing I can do. The cops are looking for him. I hired Bill Zimmerman to stay at the house tonight in case the punk turns up again.”
“Zimmerman?” He was an off-duty Lovely police officer I’d gone to school with.
“Yes. Don’t start in about him being a pussy. He’ll take care of business if he needs to.”
My response was just a grunt. “Well, he can leave when I get there, ‘cause I’m staying there tonight.”
“I paid him for the whole night.” My brother’s tone was laced with aggravation. “You don’t need to stay.”
“I’m staying. That spineless bastard will come back at some point, and I’m gonna be there when he does. I’ll bring over my laptop and I can work from there. You know we need someone over there all the time, and I can do it. I want to.”
“Are you in love with April?”
I glared at the blue lights of Reed’s phone number on my dash. “What business is it of yours?”
“You’re my brother. And she’s like family to me and Ivy and Noah. If you hurt her—”
I cut him off. “I’m not gonna hurt her. Am I not the guy rushing home to keep her from getting hurt again?”
“You know what I mean. She’s not one of your fuck and flee girls, Mason.”
“I know that.”
The silence stretched for a few seconds.
“Will you come over in the morning so I can go home and get my stuff?” I asked.
“Go get it now, while Z’s at the house.”
“I want to go straight there.”
I heard a faint sound that sounded a lot like laughing. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. See you in the morning.”
“Yeah.”
We hung up and I pressed my foot on the gas pedal. I’d take a chance speeding on the country roads tonight.
It felt like I’d been traveling in slow motion but finally I pulled into the long driveway of Grieves House. I found the key to the side door on my key ring, unlocked the door and went inside.
It was after eleven PM, and the house was dark and quiet other than the sound of the TV. Bill Zimmerman had gotten up from his spot on the couch, his hand resting on his holstered gun.
“It’s me, Z,” I said. “Mason Lockhart.”
He let out a sigh. “You scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know you were coming.” He squinted at me in the darkness. “What happened to your face?”
“Where’s April?”
“She’s downstairs. Ivy’s with her.”
I nodded and went to the basement door, flying down the stairs. I heard low, female voices coming from inside April’s room, so I knocked on the door lightly.
“Come in,” April said.
I pushed the door open and saw her and Ivy lying side by side in bed. They were watching a movie.
“Mason?” Ivy said, sitting up. “What are you doing here?”
“Mason?” April said. “I thought you’d be gone a couple weeks on your trip.”
I approached her side of the bed and got down on my knees. “I wanted to come back. Are you okay?”
Even though the only light in the room came from the flickering TV screen, I could see the injuries to her face. One eye was darkened and swollen. Her jaw was purple with a bruise and her lower lip was swollen.
The rage came back, churning like hot fire in my gut. I needed to find the guy who’d done this to her. He had a very big price to pay.
“I’m okay,” she said softly, scooting over in bed so we were only a foot apart. She moved onto her side and curled up, wincing.
“Does it hurt?”
Ivy discreetly slipped out of bed and left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Yeah,” April admitted. “But the drugs they gave me help.”
I reached for her hand, checking to make sure it wasn’t injured before I took it in mine.
“What happened to you?” she said, leaning up on an elbow to examine my face. “Mason . . . were you attacked?”
Her worried tone tugged at me, but I didn’t want to go into why my face looked a lot like hers right now. “I’m fine. I’m a lot more worried about you.”
“You’re not fine.” She tried to sit up, grimacing.
“Don’t.” I stood and reached around her back, easing her onto her back. I sat down beside her and she looked up at me, her hazel eyes loaded with questions.
“What happened to you?” she asked again.
I opened my mouth to tell her I’d just been sparring at the gym and it had gotten kind of rough. It wasn’t the truth, exactly, but it wasn’t a complete lie.
I couldn’t do it, though. April was too good for even a partial lie.
“I’d rather not go into it now,” I said. “You need to rest.”
“But . . . How can I rest when I’m worried about you?”
“Why didn’t you text me back?” I asked, both curious and eager to change the subject. “I was worried you were in a coma or something.”
“I didn’t even know you knew. Colton smashed my phone before he smashed my face.”
“I promise he won’t hurt you again. I’m gonna make sure of it.”
Her expression softened. “Please tell me, Mason.”
I couldn’t stand the longing in her eyes. Turning away, I reminded myself I hadn’t even known April for a full month. Maybe she was trustworthy, but I knew all too well what it would do to me if she wasn’t.
“It’s a long story,” I said, wanting her to drop it, but also touched that she cared why my face was a bloody mess.
“I’m a good listener. And I can’t sleep. You can lay down with me if you want.”
“Is this just a ploy to get me in bed?” I leaned closer to her, stroking a thumb across her knuckles.
“Mason,
” she said in a serious tone. “Lay down and start talking.”
MASON SAT NEXT TO me, turning so we could see each other’s faces. I’d turned the volume down on the TV before he got into bed so we wouldn’t be disturbed by the sound.
“You can lay down if you want,” I offered again.
“I don’t want to get blood on your pillowcase.”
I smiled. “Go on. Then I’ll have a matching set, because I got blood on this one.”
He lay down on his side, leaning up on one elbow.
“Do you want the long story, or the really long one?” he asked.
“Really long. Please.”
He sighed deeply, looking like he didn’t know where to begin.
“If I just started with the Club, that wouldn’t be the beginning of the story. So I guess I have to start with Daphne.”
His tone was resigned, and I could tell this wasn’t something he liked talking about.
“Daphne and I met in college,” he said. “I was a sophomore and she was a freshman. We started dating. That summer we got an apartment together off campus. My parents still don’t know I lived with a woman. My mom would’ve flipped her shit if she’d known.”
I told myself not to feel jealous of Daphne, but I couldn’t help it. She’d lived with Mason. Young, carefree, college-student Mason. They’d probably had a one-bedroom apartment with no air conditioning where they slept in a sweaty, naked tangle every night.
“Right after I started junior year and she started sophomore year . . . she got pregnant.”
I leaned up on an elbow, wanting to be face to face with him. Mason had a child? I’d never in a million years have guessed. Did his family know? Surely not, since Ivy hadn’t told me.
He sighed again. “The way I found out she was pregnant was when I came home from class one day and she was crying in bed. She said she’d gotten an abortion that morning.”
I covered my open mouth with my hand, trying to hold in my gasp of surprise.
“She didn’t tell you?” I asked softly.
“No.” His tone was flat, but the corners of his mouth were drawn down in sadness. “She said it was her body and her decision and she didn’t want me to influence her thinking.”
“That must’ve been . . . how did you feel?”
In Deep Page 6
