Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel

by Ashley Suzanne

  Bracing my palms on my thighs, I’m getting ready to push myself up when I feel Josette’s arms wrap around my neck and her front press to my back. “I’m so sorry I stole that from you for so long. You deserve to have heard that every day since she started talking. But I’m so happy you get it now. I’m so happy she has a daddy who loves her. And I’m so happy that I never let her call anyone else daddy, because you’re the only person in this entire world that deserves to hear that precious word.”

  Another wave of emotion hits me, knocking me on my ass. Bethany said she had never had a daddy before, and I took her at face value, but I guess I assumed that Colt had stepped into that role, and that she thought of him as her dad. Josette’s words drive home the point that I’m the only man who’s ever filled those shoes. Not even Colt, that smug, deplorable bastard, has ever had my girls the way I have them now. Strike me dead right this second, I swear he never will.

  They’re mine. Both of them. Once I figure out how to stop being such an emotional pussy and get back on my feet and get my shit together.

  Chapter 17

  Cutter

  “You ready to meet some cool people, Bethy?” I ask my daughter, sitting with her and Josette in Garrett and Rian’s driveway.

  “Do they have a kid with toys?”

  “They have a little boy a few years older than you,” I respond, watching her scrunch up her face in disgust in the rearview mirror.

  “He’s going to have boy toys,” she states matter-of-factly.

  “Probably, but he’s got some cool Legos,” I offer, and she nods her head in agreement.

  Getting out of the car, all three of us walk up the pathway, Bethany between Josette and me, swinging like a monkey. I don’t get the chance to knock on the door, because a very exhausted yet still beautiful Rian opens the door and all but charges me.

  “I’ve missed you,” she mumbles with her face buried in my shirt.

  “I’ve missed you too, Ri.” I chuckle, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and squeezing.

  Pulling away, Rian looks at Josette and tears spring to her eyes. “You should have told me,” she kindly scolds. “I could have helped you.”

  “I know,” Josette says through a sniffle and the women lock in an embrace to rival the one I received when Rian and Garrett picked me up from the airport when I came back from Vegas.

  “Well, get in here and introduce me to this beautiful lady.” Rian ushers us through the door and into the living room where Garrett’s in his favorite spot and Greg’s playing with Legos—as expected—on the floor.

  “My name’s Bethany.” Her smile lights up the entire room—even little Greg takes notice.

  “Well, Bethany, I’m Rian and this is my husband, Garrett, and son, Gregory. It’s very lovely to meet you, sweetheart.”

  Bethany walks around the room, shaking everyone’s hand like a polite politician. When she makes her way back to Josette and me, she grabs on to Josette’s hand and hugs my leg, then looks up at the pair of us. “See, they’re Gregory’s mommy and daddy and they’re married.”

  “Yes, they are.” Josette giggles.

  “So you and Daddy need to get married,” Bethany urges and the entire room, except the kids, bursts out in a fit of laughter.

  “This is getting good,” Garrett chuckles and I can only shake my head. Bethany and her obsession with marriage. Not that it’s a bad idea, but a tad bit premature.

  The rest of the evening goes as expected—Garrett grills me on being a dad and when he can take me shopping to get an engagement ring for Josette, Rian gushes over Bethany and talks about how excited she is about having a little girl, Bethany and Gregory pass out sprawled across a minefield of Legos, and finally, the Josette I knew all those years ago surfaces, chatting with friends animatedly and talking about all the things we’ve all missed. All in all, the night is damn near perfect, until I have to drop Josette and Bethany off at home. All I want to do is stay. And again, another night goes by without an invitation to see if we still have a shot, not that I expected anything different.

  —

  “You don’t have anyone to watch her for a few hours?” I ask Josette over the phone, desperately wanting her to come to my fight tonight, but knowing there’s no way in hell Bethany should be there.

  “No, sorry. My usual sitter’s busy tonight and everyone else I know is going to be there.”

  “Fuck,” I growl. “I get it, but damn, I really wanted you to be there. Good luck charm and all.”

  “I know. Next time, promise,” she offers. “But remember all those fights in Vegas, I wasn’t there and you’re still undefeated. This one’s no different. You’re going to do great, Cutter. I believe in you.”

  “All right. I gotta get going. Garrett’s meeting me at the venue in about thirty and I’m not even dressed. Rian will keep you up to date on all that’s going on, okay?”

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll make sure my phone’s charged. Give ’em hell, ’kay?”

  “You already know.” I know damn well I’m taking this guy to the ground, hard and fast. Garrett was right when I got back from Vegas, and he was convinced that I wasn’t going back…There’s no way I can stay away from Bethany and Josette. I needed a way to work through the demons that could turn to resentment, especially if I’m going to be worth a damn to Bethany. I’ve found a way to channel the anger and frustration, while keeping in shape, and the purse on this fight’s going to be enough to pay Bethany’s daycare tuition for the rest of the year. I’m more than ready.

  And I’m fucking frustrated. Every minute I’ve spent with Josette that I’m not inside her has driven me insane. Remembering how she feels, how she moves beneath me, the soft cries of pleasure that slip past her lips when she’s in the zone…every fucking memory, especially when she prances around in those form-fitting floor-length dresses, showing off every damn curve on her petite frame, and the weight she’s gained in all the right places….There’s no doubt in my mind she’d feel even better now than she did before. And I get none of it. Not a single ounce.

  I quickly throw on a pair of sweats, pull on a hoodie, and fly out the door. I make it to the venue across town in record time, and I’ve barely put the car in park when I’m running toward the back doors, where Garrett’s waiting with Rian to help get me ready. Back in the locker room, Garrett wraps my hands while Rian goes on and on about how I’m going to kick this guy’s ass.

  Roger, one of the other guys from the gym, shows up to run through some drills with me, since I have about forty-five minutes or so until my fight is scheduled, depending on how the others go. We take advantage of every second we have together, since I’ve only had two weeks to prep for this fight. With each blow landed, my confidence boosts more than the last. Each time I duck and avoid getting socked, I feel more and more in control. Each time Garrett smiles and nods at every maneuver, I can feel his pride seep through my pores, which soak all of it up.

  I’m ready.

  “All right, the last fight just ended,” Garrett says. “They’re calling a quick intermission, maybe five or ten minutes. Get it ready, pump up, and we’re on.” Garrett pushes everyone out of the room so I can get in the zone. Swinging my hands in the air at an imaginary opponent, I visualize every hit and how I’m going to react to a counterattack, but something’s missing.

  “What are you, new?” I ask myself, finally remembering my old trick for getting ready for fights. My music. I need to get myself hyped, and the only way to do that is the perfect song. Going back to my roots, I know exactly what I want: The Struts…just like my first fight. If it worked before, it’s got to work now.

  I reach in my gym bag for my phone, and the first thing I see is the notification light blinking rapidly. The notifications are most likely from social media wishing me luck on this fight, and I need to get through “Could Have Been Me” at least once before I hit the floor, so I unlock the screen to delete them. But the notifications aren’t generic—they’re messages for help.


  More than a dozen missed calls from Josette, a few voicemails, and twenty unread text messages.

  Josette: You there?

  Josette: I need you, Cutter.

  Josette: Where are you?

  Josette: It’s important. Call me right away.

  Josette: Isn’t this fucking great.

  Josette: I’m taking Bethany to Lexington General. Can’t break her fever.

  Josette: We’re in Room 103. They’re admitting her.

  Josette: Running tests now. They’re not sure what’s going on with her.

  Josette: She’s asking for you.

  Josette: They’re packing her in ice to help reduce the fever. Call me please.

  Panic rises in my chest as I read through the texts. I start to open the voicemail app as Garrett comes through the door.

  “Time to go, kid. You ready?” he asks.

  “No. I gotta go. Bethany’s in the hospital.” I start throwing all my shit into my bag and putting on my street clothes right over the top of my board shorts.

  “What’s going on? She okay? Cutter, talk to me, kid. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on,” he begs, but the only thing I can think of is the quickest route to the hospital and how my girl’s doing. She’s all that matters.

  “He’s been out of the scene for a while, but the lethal kid’s back. Get on your feet and show some love for the hometown hero, Cutter ‘the Butcher’ Greeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrr,” the MC announces, and I glance up to Garrett, silently asking for his help.

  “You go, I’ve got this. What hospital?”

  “Lexington General.”

  “Okay. I’ll pull the card, explain what’s going on, and see about fixing a rematch. You get to Bethany and text me as soon as you know what’s going on.” He stares at me for a second before his voice booms, breaking through all the worst-case scenarios. “Get out of here!” he yells.

  “Okay,” I whisper, gathering my thoughts. “Okay. See you soon.” I finally walk out of the building. As soon as I’m in the car, I try calling Josette but her phone’s going straight to voicemail. Tossing my phone on the passenger seat, I hit the highway quickly and fly down the few exits to the one marked for the hospital, refusing to stop at red lights, my only thoughts on the sweet angel lying in a hospital bed asking for her daddy, who isn’t there. The idea alone has me choked up.

  Instead of searching for a parking spot, I whip into the Emergency Room loop for drop-offs and pickups and exit the car. Spotting a valet, I toss him my keys and rush through the doors. When I catch a triage nurse, I demand she tell me how to get to my daughter.

  “Bethany Greer.” I give her the name—my name—and I’m surging with pride but distraught with worry at the same time. What the hell could be going on with her that she has to go to the hospital in the middle of the night? She seemed fine earlier.

  “Come with me, sir,” the kind nurse says, and briskly begins walking down hallways, around corners, and more and more corridors until she reaches the PICU. I nearly fall to my knees just reading the sign. Pediatric Intensive Care is no joke. Whatever’s going on has to be serious for them to admit her, let alone admit her to the PICU.

  The nurse buzzes me into the unit and directs me to the nurse’s station to get a badge. I almost start walking room to room until I find Bethany, but my badge prints quickly and I’m sent down one hallway with directions to turn left and then find the first door on the right. Doing exactly as I was told, I pause before entering the room where Bethany’s name is written on the dry erase board next to the door. Taking a few deep breaths, I prepare myself to handle whatever’s on the other side and be there to support Josette, then swallow down my fears and surge through the door.

  The first thing I see inside is Bethany’s smiling face. “Daddy, you came!” she excitedly yells.

  “Heard we were having a party,” I say to lighten the mood. They’ve got my girl hooked up to an IV in one arm, monitors on the other, and ice packs on almost all of her body, and yet she’s still in good spirits. That’s my girl. Always looking on the bright side and making the best of any situation.

  Glancing around the room to check on Josette and how she’s holding up, I about lose my shit when I see her sitting off in the corner, underneath a TV playing Doc McStuffins…with Colt. Of all the fucking people she could have called to come while she was waiting on me, she chose that smug bastard.

  “The fuck is this?” I whisper so I don’t upset Bethany, but I’m almost to the point where I’ll be unable to control my emotions.

  “Cutter,” Josette warns, standing up and placing her palm on my chest, pushing me backward slightly. “I needed a friend until you could get here. I wasn’t sure when your fight ended and I needed a little support to keep me from passing out.”

  I ignore Josette and flatly tell Colt, “Well, I’m here now, you can go.”

  “Josette?” he questions. “I can stay if you want.”

  “She doesn’t,” I answer for her.

  “No disrespect, Cutter, but Josette asked me here and I’ll leave when she gives me the go-ahead.”

  I can feel the blood boiling in my veins, getting ready to explode like Mount Vesuvius. My hands start vibrating with more anger than I’ve felt in a long time. Having been a fighter himself, Colt should understand the frame of mind of another fighter and how hopped up I am right now. The only thing stopping me from knocking him flat on his ass is the adorable, pitiful-looking little girl cuddled up in the hospital bed.

  At that exact moment, another nurse carrying a chart comes through the door, most likely to check up on Bethany. Seeing my standoff with Colt, she says, “I’m sorry, but immediate family only.”

  Puffing out my chest, I give him a nasty grin. “I’m her father. This guy, he’s not really anything at all. I’m sure he won’t mind heading home, will ya, Colt?”

  “I’m sorry, Colton,” Josette says softly, almost as if she’s apologizing for my attitude and the hospital’s rules. “Thank you for coming. I’ll give you an update later, okay?”

  “All right,” he mutters, and leans down to kiss Josette on the cheek. I can’t help but loudly clear my throat. Before his lips connect, he backs away, shrugging and shaking his head. “I’ll talk to you soon,” he says to Josette before turning toward Bethany. “You feel better, Bethy-girl. I’m here if you need me.”

  “Bye, Colton. Daddy’s here now, I’ll be okay,” Bethany says, reminding everyone in the room that I’m the one she needs. My nasty smile turns into a smug grin. Even my girl knows he can’t take my place even if he tried. Daddy-daughter win.

  Chapter 18

  Josette

  Cutter never mentions the outcome of his fight, but judging from the lack of bruising and the undamaged tape, it’s safe to say he never got a single swing. He forfeited, ruining his perfect record, the record he’s been busting his ass over for three years, all for Bethany—because she needed him. If that’s not enough to melt even the coldest of hearts, I’m not sure what is.

  Then when he stormed the castle and all but threw Colton out of the room…yeah, he’s got my heart just as much as Bethany’s. I shouldn’t have called Colton, but after all my attempts to reach Cutter with no luck, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get through this alone. The doctors started rattling off words like virus and meningitis, and I needed a shoulder to lean on. Unfortunately, since the Rhodeses were with Cutter, the only other friend I could depend on was Colton. I knew it wasn’t the greatest idea, but at the time, it was my only option.

  Instead of starting up a conversation with Cutter now, I wait until the nurse checks Bethany’s vitals and informs us the doctor will be in shortly. Cutter, despite his massive frame, crawls up onto the gurney, throws the scratchy white sheet over both him and Bethany, and nestles her in the crook of his arm. Together, my favorite people in the world lie in a peaceful quiet, watching a cartoon until Bethany finally dozes off. My girl’s never liked sleeping away from home, and hospitals aren’t the best places to te
st out any sleepover strategies, so I’m glad she’s got the one thing she wanted.

  I can’t help but feel a little jealous she didn’t want me. For so long, I was all she had, and now there’s this new person whom she loves just as much as she loves me, and I’ve got to admit it…Bethany’s a daddy’s girl through and through. This is an envy I’m happy to hold on to for the rest of my life if Cutter sticks around. And I really don’t think there’s anything in this world that could drag him away. It’s been weeks and he’s made no mention of going back to Vegas. Hell, he’s mentioned time and time again that he needs to get a place more suitable than the apartment above the gym to spend time with Bethany. I honestly think he has no intentions of leaving ever again. The thought is scary but so exciting.

  Cutter rises from the bed, pulling my attention away from the television, and stalks his way toward me, the soft look he gives Bethany gone, replaced only by disdain. “Hallway,” he grunts, and marches out the door.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I stand up and wait a few moments before I follow him outside. He holds his tongue until the door is securely shut behind him and we’re seated on chairs safely out of Bethany’s hearing distance.

  “I’m only going to say this one time,” he starts, looking around the corridor and then refocusing on me. “That asshole is never allowed around my daughter again. Do you understand?”

  “Cutter.” I sigh, not wanting to fight to explain myself. Colton was never here for Bethany, he was my shoulder to lean on. “You have nothing to worry about with Colton. He’s been a good friend to me for a while. He came so I wasn’t alone.”

  “I came,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Yes, you did,” I concede. “We don’t need to argue about this. Colton’s my friend and I can’t guarantee he won’t be around Bethany, since I’m pretty much always with her. This is something you’re going to have to be okay with.”