Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel

by Ashley Suzanne

  “Yeah, Josette. Why’s it matter?” Rian jeers.

  “Rian,” I plead. “Please.”

  “Are you embarrassed? Ashamed? Can’t even stand your own damn self?” Rian keeps prodding.

  I’m about three seconds away from a nuclear meltdown of epic proportions. “I didn’t know what to do. You said you’d help me figure it out. After the party. You were going to help me find a way to tell him, Rian. And you didn’t. Now he’s hurt. I’m hurt. We’re all hurt.”

  “You’ve really lost me now. Who needs telling what? Can someone fill me in? I know I’m a little drunk, but the more you talk the harder it is to follow.” Garrett leans over the table, his face contorted with confusion.

  “Oh, for Christsakes, Garrett. I’ll fill you in later,” Rian answers for the both of us.

  “The hell you will. I’ve got a woman who looks like she’s a few notches past crazy getting wordsy with my wife, and it’s got something to do with Cutter, who might as well be my own damn son, as much as I’ve taken care of him. Plus, my wife is pregnant as hell and doesn’t need this kind of stress. So, one of you, out with it. What the hell is going on?” Garrett’s face turns a couple shades past opening up a can of whoop-ass. Before Rian can answer for me, I take the lead. It’s about time I did the telling around here.

  “Before Cutter left for Vegas, we found out I was pregnant—”

  Rian interrupts, “He knew you were pregnant? And left you high and dry?” The look of shock and disgust on her face only infuriates me, that she thinks Cutter could ever be that kind of man, especially with how his childhood was.

  “No!” I yell, then compose myself before finishing. “We decided I was getting an abortion, only I couldn’t go through with it. I didn’t know how to tell him, so when I got the shower invite, I thought you could help me figure it out—if I should tell him, when, how. I didn’t know he was here, so I stayed a little to enjoy the party, then I ran smack into him and he saw her. Long story short, Garrett: the one with the pink leggings, black shirt, and blond pigtails…she’s my and Cutter’s daughter.”

  “Well, that’s fucking easy. Tell the boy. He’d make a great dad. What’s the problem here?”

  “Garrett.” Rian sighs. “Keep up. He found out on his own about fifteen minutes ago and stormed out of the house. Car’s still in the driveway, so I guess he walked back to the apartment.”

  “He’s staying here? For how long?” I ask, shocked and unsure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

  “Not sure, but I hope it’s long enough to get your shit together. Your daughter deserves a dad, and Cutter deserves his child.” Rian is so matter-of-fact, I don’t know why I didn’t come to her sooner.

  “I just don’t know if that’s even going to work. We’ve both moved on with our lives. We both have the jobs we always dreamed of and I’m pretty sure he’s found someone new.”

  “Josette, I’m going to be real honest right now,” Garrett softly says, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Cutter most likely will never forgive you for what you did, but that shouldn’t carry any weight. This isn’t about you. It’s about that man and his child. Time for you to handle the shit show you created and deal with the consequences.”

  I guess I just need a game plan before I speak to Cutter next. Garrett’s right. Bethany deserves her dad and we’ll figure out a way to make it all work. We have no other choice because I doubt Cutter is going to let me walk away with Bethany like nothing ever happened. He wants his daughter as much as I do.

  Chapter 13

  Cutter

  I wonder if it’s considered stalking if you’re sitting at a diner across the street from the business where your ex-girlfriend, mother of your surprise child, works, trying to get up the nerve to go inside and talk to her? Probably is, but I’m going to need all the time I can take so I don’t walk in there and completely lose it on her. Bottom line is there’s a little girl who belongs to both of us, and she’s my only priority. I should have had this family from the start, but since nobody has a DeLorean to help me travel back in time, I need to work on being the best dad I can be right now. It’s going to be hard, because as much as I hate the hell out of Josette right now, I also just want to hold her, smell her hair, and remember all the amazing times we had. Because I’m a fucking pussy and am still hopelessly in love with the woman who keeps shattering my world piece by piece. Looks like I’m a glutton for punishment.

  Around noon, after I’ve been here for a few hours and drunk more coffee than one person should consume, I watch Josette casually stroll through the revolving doors of her building like nothing’s wrong, laughing and smiling with another woman. They turn right and start walking down the sidewalk. Tossing a twenty on the table, surely enough for my coffee and the time I’ve occupied the booth, I wave to the waitress and walk out the front doors.

  Crossing the street, I wait for Josette to go into a small deli. I’m only a few paces behind her, but she’s yet to notice me.

  “I’ll take a BLT on wheat, please,” she says to the cashier behind the counter.

  “And hold the mayo. She hates mayo,” I offer, and watch her body still at the sound of my voice. “And go heavy on the tomato if you can. It’s her favorite part.”

  “Cutter.” She sighs, and her entire body sags with defeat. Before she turns to face me, I watch her shoulders straighten to a more authoritative posture, as if she’s giving herself the confidence she needs to look me in the eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “Again with that question. I figured we had a few things to iron out. I’d prefer to do it in a more intimate setting, but if you’d rather talk here, I’m game.”

  Her coworker leans in and whispers in her ear, “Are you okay?” I can make out every word.

  “She’s perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about. You might want to tell her boss she’s going to be out the rest of the afternoon. Think you can pass that message along?”

  “Josette?” she questions. “Tell me you’re okay. This guy’s kinda scary.”

  “Yes. Yes, he is, but I’m perfectly safe. He’d never hurt me,” Josette answers, never taking her eyes off mine. “Tell Barry I’ll finish my work from home and I’m not feeling well. Or don’t tell him anything at all, I’ll email him later.”

  “Okay. If you say so. Please call me later so I know that dark-and-scary hasn’t murdered you or put you in a basement or something else out of a horror movie. I need to know you’re okay.”

  “Drea, I’m good. I swear. I might need you to get Bethany from daycare if that’s not a problem. I’m not sure how long this is going to take.”

  “Anything, you know that, babe. Just text me and let me know.”

  With another angry “if you hurt my friend, I’ll kill you” look, the woman now known as Drea leaves the deli with her sandwich. I place my hand on the small of Josette’s back and lead her out of the building.

  “My place or yours?” I ask.

  “Yours is fine.”

  “Is it because you don’t want me knowing where you live?”

  “No, not at all. I just feel more comfortable with you at your house. You’ve never invaded my private, safe place and I’d like to keep it that way until we figure this out.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  —

  After pulling up in front of the gym, I usher Josette up the back staircase as I’d done so many times before, only this time it feels so final, like we’re deciding the rest of our lives, and we both know we can’t be together because she kept me from knowing about our daughter.

  “Tell me about her. Bethany. I want to know everything.”

  Josette’s face softens when she begins to talk about our daughter. “She’s perfect, Cutter. She’s a dream. Everything we ever could have wanted. She’s smart and kind and absolutely, utterly perfect. There’s not a single thing I’d change about her,” Josette gushes like any proud mother.

  “Does she know she has a dad?” I ask, hoping she does, but
guessing she doesn’t.

  “Yes, Cutter, she knows. She knows it’s you, but not you, if that makes any sense. She asked me one time about her dad, since she hears other kids talk about their dads, so I gave her the specifics. I told her how wonderful you are and how amazing you can be. I told her that you’re working really hard and that’s why you’re not here. And I told her how much you love her. We actually talk about you all the time.”

  “I want to know her, Josette. I deserve to know her and be able to tell stories about her the way you can. I’ve already missed so much, I can’t bear missing any more. We need to find a solution, because I live in Vegas and you live here. There has to be some kind of custody agreement we can come to without getting lawyers.”

  “What? You’re wanting to take her from me? Cutter, you can’t do that. I’m her mother. She needs me. You can’t just come in after two years and take my baby away from me.” Her panic is written across her face. There’s no way I want to take my daughter from her mother, but I need my time, too. I have to make up for the last two years of missing all those milestones.

  “I’d never take her from you. That’s why I wanted to talk. To see what we could work out. I can come here between training and fighting. I can be here for her. Get to know her. I could be the dad she deserves, but you have to let me try.” Josette relaxes, but not much.

  Reaching out, I take her hand in mine, and all the familiar sparks I felt years ago flood back. My memories are getting the best of me, yet I manage to push them aside to try to comfort Josette, even though at this time she doesn’t deserve my comfort. “We’re in this together. We have to be.”

  “Please just don’t try to take her from me. I could never afford the kind of attorneys you could. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” She squeezes my hand and looks up at me with the eyes I fell in love with as a tear falls down her cheek. Out of instinct, I brush away the moisture with the pad of my thumb, and don’t miss the sharp intake of air from Josette or how I’ve suddenly stopped breathing.

  “Can you show me some pictures of her? I’m sure you have a bunch.” I need to break the tension. I’m close to letting autopilot take over and picking up where we left off before I went to Vegas.

  “Absolutely.” Luckily, Josette pulls her hand from mine, reaches for her purse, and pulls out a phone. Flipping through apps, she comes across her gallery. Instead of passing me the phone, she leans into my side, pulls her feet up underneath her body, and rests her arm across my midsection while she starts going through different albums.

  Each time she scrolls from image to image, her arm grazes my groin, and each time, it gets harder and harder to ignore—pun totally intended. Josette shares the story behind each picture: why it was taken, and how amazing or sad or silly the day had been. There’s no denying that Bethany’s been the light of her life since she was born. As glad as I am to see Josette so happy, it burns like liquid fire in my gut. I shouldn’t have to be told these stories. I should have been there. They should be my stories to share with people about my daughter.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Jo?” I ask softly as we continue to look at the gallery of Bethany.

  Josette goes into telling me how she figured it would be better this way since we had already agreed on an abortion. How much more she wanted for me and my life, and how much I deserved some sort of freedom, since I had been screwed over so badly as a kid. I can understand her motives, but it doesn’t erase the hurt.

  “I wanted to keep her, you know. I never wanted you to have an abortion,” I say honestly. “I just knew how important your future was to you, and I never wanted to stand in the way of you making something of yourself. I knew you were your own backup plan. But I wanted her. I would have given up everything, just like you did, or at least put it on hold until after she was born, because you were all I ever wanted, and a baby would have just been the icing on the cake.”

  “I know you say that now, Cutter, but there was no way to know if we would have ever survived a baby. We were so new. Yeah, best friends, but going from best friends to instant family could have gone really bad. I wanted you to achieve your dreams, and you did and I’m so proud, and I had to protect Bethany. What if you left her? What if something happened to us and it got ugly? I wasn’t trying to steal her from you, I wanted to be her protector.”

  More tears start to fall from her eyes, and I can’t stand it anymore. Reaching around her waist, I pull her into my lap and let her cry on my shoulder as I rub her back gently. “I’m not going anywhere and I’ll never let it get ugly. But you have to let me get to know her. I’ll go at your pace, but you have to give me a chance to be in her life.”

  “Okay.” She sniffles, picks up her head, and stares into my eyes and I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with her all over again.

  “Cutter,” she murmurs, and it takes everything in me not to kiss her. Put my lips to hers and remember how perfectly we fit together. From the couch cushion, her phone lights up and a generic ringtone sounds. I glance down at the screen and the name that’s illuminated is “Colton.”

  She jumps out of my lap, grabs the phone, and walks into the kitchen. Josette tries to lower her voice, so I quietly move closer to hear what’s going on.

  “No, everything’s okay. Drea’s exaggerating. Don’t worry, I’ll be home soon. Can you feed her some dinner for me and I’ll be there as soon as I can? Colton, don’t. Please don’t start with this. She’s his daughter.”

  Knowing they’re talking about me now, and my daughter, I storm into the kitchen and snatch the phone from Josette and put it to my ear. “What aren’t you supposed to be starting? She’s my fucking child.” The line goes dead and instead of throwing the phone across the room like I want to, I hand it to Josette and walk back to the living room.

  “Cutter,” she whispers, coming up behind me and placing her arm on my shoulder. “Can we talk about this?”

  “What’s there to talk about? You’ve moved on, have some other man raising my kid, and now you’re standing in my living room, and just a few minutes ago you would have let me take you to bed if I’d asked. What happened to you, Jo? You used to be so strong. Now what? You’re just whoring yourself out to anyone who will help you take care of my kid instead of coming to her father,” I seethe, unable to control my anger.

  “This conversation is fucking over.” Before she walks out the door, she writes something on a piece of paper and tosses it on the end table. “That’s my number. You can call me to set up a time to see Bethany. I’ll talk to you whenever.” Then she stomps out the door, and before I can make it downstairs she’s at the curb and jumping into a cab.

  “Son of a bitch!” I yell, and punch the brick wall behind me, immediately regretting the decision as my knuckles crack against the scratchy surface and blood forms across my hand.

  Running back up the stairs, I pull out my phone and dial Max, my agent, who’s pretty good at finding information people don’t want found. “Max,” I bark, “get me anything you can on Josette Morelli. Address mainly. And I need it right now.”

  “You got it, boss. Give me five.”

  It’s less than three minutes before a text comes through with Josette’s last known address, which, from what she’s told me, appears to be where she’s living. I haul ass out of the apartment, jump in the car Rian’s letting me borrow, punch the address into my GPS, and fly down the highway. The hell if this conversation is over. We’re not over. Nothing is over.

  Chapter 14

  Cutter

  Who the hell does she think she is, storming out of my apartment because I’m pissed? I have a valid fucking reason to be angry. She didn’t even see it coming until I whipped my car directly behind hers when she pulled in the driveway. Our eyes meet in her rearview mirror and her look of sheer terror doesn’t escape me. That makes me almost as angry as her keeping Bethany from me. I’ve never put my hands on a woman in anger and I’m sure as hell not going to start now, especially with the mother of my child. Rushing ou
t of the car, not even shutting the door behind me, I reach her before she’s able to flee her own vehicle and run into the house.

  “Cutter, we can’t do this here,” she says, flipping her head back and forth between me and the front door. The realization settles hard in my stomach that she’s probably got a boyfriend or husband inside and doesn’t want to explain to him what the hell some other dude is doing here. But as far as I’m concerned, I had her first and until we get shit straight about our daughter, I’m not leaving, whether she’s married or not. That dude can kick rocks. This is my family.

  “We were talking, but you got a stick up your ass when I laid your shit bare. I’m sorry if I can’t sugarcoat this bullshit, Jo. You owe me a lot more than running away because your feelings got hurt. She’s my daughter, I want to know her, and I want my fucking family. You don’t get to decide when that happens. You’ve done enough of the choice making, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Please,” she begs, pushing at my chest, but I don’t budge.

  “No,” I growl, stepping in to her. She tries to close the door, but I’m able to grab a hold of her hand and pull her out of the car. Dragging her out of the way, I slam the door behind her and push her up against the car. Towering over her, I watch her switch rapidly from fear to anger and finally to acceptance that I’m not the kid I used to be. I’m not going to be pushed to the side and left to hang. And she’s not the powerful, confident woman I first met, either. Something more than the shit I threw at her earlier changed her, too. I can almost smell her insecurity; it’s pouring out of her.

  “Josette? Everything okay?” a man’s voice asks from the front porch. Probably a boyfriend, because a husband sure as shit wouldn’t allow some strange man he’s never met to be this close to his wife. At least Garrett wouldn’t stand for this shit. I’d already be laid out on my ass.