Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel

by Ashley Suzanne

  “Cutter, another one just left a message. What do you want me to start telling them?” Josette asks from the office, glancing between me and Garrett.

  “I don’t know. Garrett? What do I do?”

  “Do you wanna fight professionally, kid?”

  “It could be cool, right? Be on TV and have bigger purses. I mean, what else am I going to do? Keep fighting at local level? If they want me, I should capitalize on it before I’m old news, right?”

  Garrett doesn’t answer and Josette rolls her eyes, either at me or the phone that’s ringing again. She steps back into the office and within a few seconds I know it’s another person calling to inquire about me.

  “It’s not a bad way to earn a living,” Garrett finally chimes in. “But it’s not a career. You know that. You might have ten or twelve years in you, but what are you going to do after that? There’s no way you’ll be able to go back to mopping floors and taking out trash after you’ve made the kind of money those fighters earn. You have to have a backup plan.”

  “I have one,” I answer, feeling a foreign sense of pride surge through my veins. “I was waiting for Josette to finish her class a few weeks ago and made my way over to the admissions office. I talked to someone about taking some courses and am thinking of signing up for a few.”

  “You’re going to college and didn’t tell me?”

  “I didn’t think it was really a big deal. I have no idea what I want to do with my life, but I figure business classes can’t be bad, right? I’m either going to work for someone else’s business or work for myself, and I probably should know how to do that.”

  “I knew I liked you, kid.” Garrett laughs and pats me on the back. “I’m proud of you. Either way, you’re gonna be just fine.”

  And just like that, I know his words are true. I’ve gone through hell and come out the other side. My life has prepped me for this. Before, I would have never had the confidence to try anything new or want more for myself. I didn’t think I deserved it. It took finding myself in this gym, meeting these people, and having them cheer for me even when they had no reason to give me the courage to make something out of myself, and I’ll never be able to thank them enough.

  “Josette,” I yell, and she peeks her head out of the office, holding the phone to her ear.

  “I’m gonna need those messages. Time for me to pick an agent.”

  —

  “To Cutter. The next big thing in professional MMA fighting,” Garrett says, raising a glass and proudly smiling in my direction.

  “Cutter,” everyone else cheers in unison. Following suit, I raise my own glass and toss back the amber whiskey, letting it burn down my throat into my nervous stomach.

  Over the last two weeks I’ve met with everyone who’s anyone in management, and finally decided on Max Irvine, the self-proclaimed best manager in the history of the UFC. I’m not sure if that’s the case, but hearing him name-drop some of the biggest names in the industry is enough for me to sign a one-year contract with him.

  While everyone mills around the bar, I grab a stool next to Garrett and order us another round. “So, this Max guy thinks it would be best if I went to Vegas for a while. The UFC has some training facility there, and it would be my best bet to get seen sparring with some of the heavy hitters if I want a chance at a real fight.”

  “That’s a big decision, kid. How are you feeling about it?”

  “I think it’s probably best if this is what I’m going to do, you know? I can stay in town and do little fights here, but I really want to make my name known. Maybe moving for a while is the best way to do it.”

  “Moving where?” Josette asks with pure attitude, death stare and hand on the hip included. Rubbing my hand over my face, I wish I’d waited to talk to Garrett somewhere more private. Josette’s opinion means a lot to me, but I can’t have her influencing my decision. I need to make this choice for myself.

  “Vegas,” I mutter, and glance at Garrett, who’s grabbing his drink and moving to another table. “It’s just an idea, Jo. I haven’t made any decisions yet.”

  “Sounds like you’re pretty decided to me. So, what, you were just gonna pack up and leave without talking to me? You’re my best friend, and you say I’m yours, but you don’t come to talk to me about this? God, you irritate me sometimes,” she says in a huff, and walks away.

  Taking my drink to Garrett’s new table and sitting down, I fold my arms in front of me and burrow my head inside them.

  “Woman troubles?” Garrett asks, and I glance up to see a knowing smirk on his face.

  “Something like that,” I mumble.

  “We’ll figure it out, kid,” Garrett says, standing and putting his hand on my shoulder. “Nothing needs to be determined now. Weigh all your options. I’m behind you no matter what you decide.”

  I’ll never understand how a perfect stranger is able to give me more respect and love than my own mother. Oh well, we can’t have it all, right? I’ve got a dead dad and a poor excuse for a mother, but I’ve also got my new family here. They’re the best anyone could ask for. If someone had told me breaking into this gym and sleeping under the ring would bring so many wonderful people into my life and give me a shot at making dreams I didn’t even know I had a reality, I would have called them a liar.

  Good thing I’m not the betting kind.

  —

  I’ve spent the last hour looking for Josette in every nook and cranny of this bar with no luck. I tried her cell, but it went right to voicemail. Instead of waiting until tomorrow to talk to her, I thank everyone for coming, pay my tab, and call a cab to take me straight to Josette’s house.

  We’re gonna hash this out tonight. I understand why she’s upset and she needs to understand why I’m considering the move. Most people spend their entire lives waiting for the breaks I’m being offered and never get them. I’d be a damn fool to pass this up. I’d be a moron not to consider all my options. And if she’s my best friend like she says, she should understand and want nothing but the best for me, just as I do for her.

  When I bang on the door, it’s answered by a furious Josette. “Can I help you?” she asks in a sardonic tone.

  “Be happy for me, Jo. Please,” I beg. Not waiting for her to invite me inside, I push my way past her and head to her bedroom, giving her no time to argue.

  “I’m not not happy for you, Cutter. But I’m pissed. I know I’m not your girlfriend or anything, but a little heads-up would have been nice.”

  I sit on the edge of her bed and pat the spot on the mattress next to me. She accepts my invitation, and once she’s seated, she lays her head on my shoulder. “You’re going to go off, get super famous, and forget all about your friends here.”

  “I’d never forget you, babe.” I place a soft kiss on top of her hair. “You’re my person.”

  “I’m having a hard time believing you. Fame changes people. Right now, it’s all cute to say you’ll never forget where you came from, but what happens when you have more money than you know what to do with, women throwing themselves at you like crazy, and a life bigger than you could have dreamed? Why would you ever want to come back here and remind yourself of all the baggage you left behind when it’s easier to forget?”

  “Because you’re here. And Garrett and Rian. You guys are home. I’m not everyone, Jo. I’m the guy that’s gonna get rich and buy a giant pickup truck instead of a sports car. And I’ll look for a girl who’s half the woman you are, and not just one who’ll look pretty on my arm. Plus, if I ever do find her, she’s going to have to pass the Josette Morelli test. I know how you Italians get. She’s gonna be in a world of trouble.”

  “Cutter?”

  “Hmmm?” Falling back, I pull Josette with me and open my arms for her to lie on my chest.

  “What if I don’t want you to find another girl?”

  My heart leaps into my throat. How does one simple sentence have me questioning everything I’ve thought about our arrangement? I don’t have any idea whe
re she’s going with this, but everything in me wants her to say it’s because she wants me. God help me, I want her, too. I’m pretty sure I always have.

  “Then you’ll have to be mine,” I answer, praying I’m on the same track as she is and that I’m not screwing up the closest relationship I’ve ever had.

  “I wouldn’t go to Vegas with you. I’d stay here and finish my degree. Would that be okay with you? Do you think if we were together even though we were apart, you’d be able to keep it in your pants?”

  “Do you want to be together?” I need to see her face. I can’t do this without looking into her eyes to make sure this is what she wants and not some halfhearted attempt to get me to change my mind. I need to read her soul. I roll on my side and she does the same so we’re facing each other. I run my fingers through the little bit of hair that’s fallen across her forehead. “Do you want to try this?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. All I do know is I don’t want to be without you. You’re the kind of guy I should be jumping at the chance to date, but I’m scared. We’re so good like this. What if we can’t recover from a bad breakup and I lose my best friend? What if we screw it all up?”

  “What if we don’t? What if we have the kind of relationship they write stories and make movies about? What if this is it for both of us, and we’re too stupid to see what’s right in front of us? What if we were made for each other?”

  “Wait a second, Cutter Greer. Have you been a closet romantic this entire time?”

  “And if I have?”

  “Then I’d have to say you’re right. We probably were made for each other.”

  “Okay, one more sappy thing and then I’m going to rip off your clothes and do all kinds of things that aren’t the most romantic but are sexy as hell. I wanna try. See if we can make a go of this. Me and you. You in?”

  “That was the furthest thing from romantic, dude.” She laughs and leans in to kiss me. Just as her lips are about to connect with mine, she whispers, “I’m all in.”

  Then I rip off her clothes and make good on my promise.

  Chapter 10

  Josette

  Pacing in my small bathroom, I keep track of the time, silently begging the heavens in a prayer I know won’t be answered. I know better. Shit, I knew better, but I was fucking dumb. Stupid, actually. Caught up and living in the moment.

  “You’re a fucking idiot,” I mumble to myself, checking the clock on my phone for the umpteenth time. All that’s passed is ninety seconds. A minute and a half gone, and a minute and a half to go. I glance at the counter, watching the window on the stick turn to a putrid shade of pink. As the seconds tick by, the pink only gets brighter, screaming my fate.

  “Son of a bitch,” I cry, swiping the stick onto the floor. Turning on the water in the sink, I cup my hands under the cold flow and bring some up to my mouth, then my face, until I just flat-out stick my entire head inside the bowl and let the water pour down on me.

  “Josette, you in there?” Nichelle calls, knocking softly on the door.

  “Yep.” I don’t want to talk to anyone. Except Cutter, but he’s spending the day with Garrett and Rian, wanting to get as much time with them as possible before he leaves in two days.

  Tomorrow. We agreed to spend his last night together watching movies and hanging out. We didn’t agree on this. Not even fucking close.

  “Can I borrow your sociology book?” Nichelle asks through the door. I pull it open and give her a blank stare.

  “Sure. Go for it.” I don’t need it anymore. How the hell am I supposed to go to school and raise a baby while Cutter’s wherever he’s going to be doing whatever he’s going to be doing? Oh my God, every plan I ever had for myself…it’s gone. Out the window. I’m officially a statistic. Wouldn’t my parents be so proud.

  “Do you need to talk about something? You’re more of an asshole today than usual.”

  “Niche. Not now, all right?” It’s not her fault I’m in a foul mood, so I’m trying to be nice, but my words come out short and rude. She takes the hint, rolling her eyes and walking into my room, then leaving with my book.

  I need to figure out my plan before I see Cutter tomorrow. There are options. Options that don’t include me dropping out of school or forcing either of us into a situation we’re not ready for. There are always options. I just need to find one right for me. For us.

  —

  Sleeping didn’t help. Actually, it didn’t happen except in short spurts. An hour out, two awake. Twenty minutes here, fifteen there. I did manage to keep myself in bed, refusing to rush over and ruin any of the time Cutter has left with the Rhodeses. That’s a win, I guess.

  Climbing out of bed, I quickly run a brush through my hair, smoothing out the shit show happening on top of my head, hopefully disguising the one inside my head. I don’t have the patience to do my makeup or change out of my sleep shorts, so I just pull a hoodie over my head, slip into a pair of sneakers, and head out the door.

  I’m sure Cutter’s not expecting me for a few more hours, but I can always play the “I couldn’t wait to see you” card and hopefully he won’t question me too much. I need to tell him when I’m ready. This isn’t something where you can pop over for breakfast, drop the bomb, and continue on about your day. Today’s the last day I’m going to have with him for a while. It has to be mostly happy and not crazy. And I’m sure once he hears there’s something swimming around in my uterus and the conclusion I’ve come to, the day’s going to take a drastic turn.

  The drive to Cutter’s apartment is emotional. Every song on the radio makes me cry. The quiet makes me cry. Talk radio annoys me and being annoyed makes me cry. I knew something was going on with my body the week before last when I couldn’t stomach the smell of Nichelle’s cooking. Then I was trying on a new bra and my boobs were swollen as hell and barely fit into the B cup I usually wear. Don’t even get me started on how when I was watching one of those feel-good movies, I was so happy I couldn’t stop crying. It’s been absolutely ridiculous, and I should have put two and two together. It wasn’t until I missed my period by a few days, when I’m always spot on, that my gut started screaming at me.

  And now here I am, sitting in the parking lot of the gym, crying about crying, and working up the nerve to walk up the stairs, knock on the door, and tell Cutter we’re having a baby. Or not having a baby, if I can muster up some damn courage.

  I quickly jog up two stairs, then back down one. I try again, two up and one down. After a few minutes of reenacting the metaphor for my life, I suck in a deep breath and slowly take the stairs one at a time until I’m on the landing, unsure of what to do next. Is there a special knock to announce a knocked-up visitor? I should have watched YouTube to prepare. They have how-tos on there for just about everything. And if they didn’t have one for “I’m pregnant by my boyfriend, who’s really my best friend, and he’s going to Vegas to train to be a professional fighter, and I’m going to ruin his last day at home for a while,” I could have made one…maybe gotten on Ellen or something.

  As I raise my fist to the door, Cutter whips the door open and barrels outside, nearly knocking me down the entire flight of stairs, but luckily catching me by the hip before my untimely demise.

  “Classes are out for break and you’re awake before nine? What universe are we in?” Cutter jokingly asks as he helps me right myself.

  “Figured if I’m only gonna get one more day with my best friend, I should make sure it’s a full day, right?”

  “Well, you’re not really dressed for jogging…or anything at all. Why are you in your PJs?”

  “Don’t ask questions, dude. I wanted a lazy day. No jogging of any kind. TV and stupid movies. Come on, you can run for the rest of your life, not today.” I push him back inside the apartment, fully prepared for him to fulfill his day’s destiny of running when I drop the baby bomb on him.

  “Your wish is my command, my lady.” He ushers me into the living room, where it’s at least a million degrees. I ge
t that fall nights can be chilly, but not enough to crank the furnace and send smoke signals to all others saying Winter is coming. Pulling off my hoodie, I lay it across the back of the couch.

  “Is this a strip show? Should I be sitting down? Full of surprises lately, Jo.”

  “You have no idea,” I mumble under my breath as I kick off my sneakers.

  I plop down on the couch next to Cutter and he pulls my hand into his lap, lacing our fingers together. “I’m not gonna be gone forever, Jo. Stop thinking I’m leaving and never coming back. And contrary to popular belief, we can be best friends even if we don’t see each other every day. Please, just stop being so sad.”

  “I’m not sad. Well, I am, but that’s not really it. I’m anxious. Like, what’s life going to be like without you here?”

  “The same as it was before I got here.”

  “But it was boring and it sucked. You know I don’t like people. And I’m pretty sure people don’t like me. You’re ruining my life, Cutter Greer,” I whine, hopefully distracting him from my oversized boobs hanging out of the top of my tank top. I apparently wasn’t thinking clearly when I dressed myself today.

  “You’re gonna be just fine. Work at the gym for Garrett. Rian will sub in for me while I’m away. Before you know it, you’ll be done with school and can get a job wherever you want and then I’ll come join you there when I’m not fighting.”

  “Yeah. Maybe. Pick a movie.” I’m the one who needs the distraction. Each time my mouth opens, I want to tell him, and each time I chicken out, knowing damn well it’ll end our day together, and I’m not willing to sacrifice that for anything. I can bear the burden alone for a few more hours.

  Cutter picks out something funny, thank God, but did it really have to be Baby Mama? Out of the hundreds of movies on the wall, this is the one that screamed out Watch me! today? I could throw up. Literally.