Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance (41 page)

“I just don’t understand,” I whimper. “If you knew, why didn’t you say anything? To Dad at least? To the cops…?”

“Because it would have ruined us, Jennifer. Mitchell’s future was riding on Kord. He had it in the palm of his hand. He was the one to make the decision to put him on the field or to kick him off.” She steps back. “God, I was so horrible. I used to tell myself not to worry too much because everything was going smoothly. That all the hugging and times Mitchell spent the night with him was so he could better himself as an athlete. I doubted and ignored every single sign. We were making progress as a family. Everything seemed great…but never did I think…” She looks up at me with her wet brown eyes. “I never thought he’d do that to himself. When I was finally ready to ask Mitchell about what was bothering me, it was already too late.”

Her eyes shut and she inhales before exhaling. Grabbing my face, she says, “I want you to forgive me. For all that I have done to you. All that you faced because of me. I want you to know that I only wanted the very best for you, even if I did show it in the worst ways possible.”

She hiccups a laugh and I can’t help but do the same. “I am still changing, but I want to build a sound foundation with you. I want you to come to me if you need to talk. I was a sinner. A selfish, vile woman, and to be honest, I don’t deserve you as a daughter. But because you are who you are—strong, sweet, kind, and positive—I know that you will. I know that even if you think I don’t deserve your presence, that you will still forgive me. You are so beautiful inside and out and you were so innocent before. I took that innocence away from Mitchell, but I tried so hard to protect yours.” She looks around the kitchen. “This needed to happen. I needed to realize my faults. I was so blinded by my desire for success for my family that I didn’t stop to think about how you all felt. It was all about me. Me. Me. Me. But now, it will be all about
you
. I don’t care if I don’t have two pennies to rub together. Anything I have is yours. I just need you to know that I am so sorry for everything.”

She breathes out raggedly, taking a few steps back. We are quiet for a few seconds. I hear a clock ticking on a nearby wall somewhere. It’s so silent in the living room that I’m questioning if Drake walked out when things got intense.

But, still, I focus on my mother.

Because she is right.

I am not hateful, and I vowed to never be like she was, no matter what she did.

After all I’ve been through, I agree that I am strong. I am strong because I made it through the storm. I am kind when I need to be, and though I’ve had my struggles with negativity, I remained as positive as possible, despite being used and abused.

Despite knowing my brother died at his own hand. Despite the fact that the love of my life up and ran away. I tried to be positive and look forward to something. At times it backfired on me, but look where I am now.

Standing in front of my mother, as she waits for my forgiveness.

It seems the earth has tilted on its axis, but if this is how things are, I don’t care if the earth doesn’t land straight again. If this is how things will be in my life from now on, I will take it and I will cherish it.

I cap Mom’s shoulders, looking into her wet, brown eyes. They are desperate, swimming with pain that I know won’t be healed unless I stitch it up with my kindness.

She seems so raw and vulnerable and this all seems so sudden. There is still a lot we have to talk about, but Drake was right about one thing.

She is my Mom and I will never get another.

He lost both of his mother figures. The women in his life. I still have mine, and I think the least she deserves is a little compassion after the struggle she’s endured. I don’t blame her for wanting the best for her children, even if that bright picture of success blinded her.

What happened to Mitchell… I don’t think that can ever be forgiven on her part. But the fact that she tried to save me… well, I can give her that.

“Mom.” I lean in to kiss her on the cheek. When I pull back I murmur, “If my forgiveness is what you need to move forward, then you have it. You’ve always had it. I’ve tried to hate you, but hate is something I’m not capable of. Not even towards the people that have hurt me the most.”

She bobs her head, and so much relief washes over her that it’s nearly visible. Her shoulders drop, the tension melting. I tug her in and hold on tight, my chin on her shoulder, tears lining my cheeks. I feel heat blooming in the pit of my belly, a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time.

Wholeness.

That is what I feel.

This single act alone has somewhat completed me.

Yes, my mother has her faults, but she is my Mom and she is willing to try. As long as she is willing, so am I. I want a better future. I want my future babies to have a grandmother they can claim. I want to trust her again, and in due time I will.

But for now, all I need is this hug.

All I need is my mom.

She holds on tight, sniffling like crazy. She still smells the same—like honey and cinnamon. I always loved her scent.

When I pull away, I see her wearing the biggest smile. I haven’t seen one like it since I was little. And seeing it warms my heart in the best way possible.

I guess Drake was right.

This had to happen. That darkness from the past is no longer weighing on my shoulders. My life officially starts now, and damn, I can’t wait.

“
I
’m guessing
you heard everything?” Jenny looks up at me as we meet up to the truck.

I smirk down at her.

“Who am I kidding?” she laughs. “I know you did.”

“I wanted to make sure everything remained cordial in there.”

She climbs into the car, laughing some more. Her eyes are a little red from all the tears her and her mom shed. As they played catch up, Jenny’s mom ended up making a phone call to her dad. Turns out her dad is in Atlanta and was so relieved to hear from her (and to get her number again). Her mom even gave me an apology and a hug.

After three hours, we are finally leaving.

When we are settled in the backseat, I spot her mom standing on the porch.

Bill starts the car and then puts it in reverse. As we back out, her mom waves goodbye.

“When’s the next time you’ll visit?” I ask.

Jenny shrugs, staring ahead with wide eyes. “I’m not sure. But I promised to call.”

“That’s good.”

She releases a big breath of relief, as if all of the world’s weight has faded and she can breathe easier now. “Now it’s your turn, Mr. Doom.”

I focus on my hands. “Guess so.”

“Tonight?”

“Yep. Tonight. I have a hotel booked for us to go to afterwards. Let’s hope I can get this shit over with in the cleanest way possible.”

“No bloodshed,” she lightly scolds.

I flash a crooked grin. “No bloodshed.”

* * *

T
he gym is just
as I remembered it.

Dark, gritty, and fucking filthy. All I smell is sweat and iron. I hear barbells clanking as Jenny and I walk up to the front desk.

I’m surprised to see Hayley still working as the receptionist. I almost laugh, knowing she hasn’t done anything with her life. Though she did pine over the twins and me, none of us took her seriously. Mainly because she’s white trash and we knew she’d never amount to shit.

Her eyes spread wide as she sees me coming, and when I meet up to the front desk her jaw drops.

“Oh my fucking God,” she shouts. “This cannot be real! DOOMSDAY!?”

I press my lips, nodding. “Hayley.”

“Holy shit. What in the hell are you doing in Fox River?! I saw that fight, by the way! You fucking slayed that Slayer.”

“I’m not here to talk about fighting. Where’s Flex?”

Her face flattens and then she looks over her shoulder. I know his office is right there, but his blinds are shut. He’s either working on papers or he has some Dawg Pit slut in there sucking him off.

“I… can go get him. Was he expecting you or something?” she probes.

“No,” I mutter. “Just tell him I’m in town to handle some shit and while I’m here we should talk.”

She glances at Jenny. Jenny forces a smile but Hayley doesn’t bother. She turns quickly and scurries to the office. She knocks on the door and then slips in rapidly, so fast that I can’t see inside.

I feel eyes on me, and when I look up I see Crusher, one of the boys I used to fight with. He cracks a wide-ass smile and then comes in my direction, giving me some dap before pulling me into a brotherly hug.

“The motherfucking legend himself! What in the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Just paying a visit.”

He points back at Flex’s office with his thumb. “To Flex?”

“Yep.”

“What, are you two on good terms now or some shit?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but there is some shit I need to talk to him about.”

“Oh. Well, shit! It’s good to see you, brother. We all watched the fight over at Skinner’s place. That was some brutal shit, man. That motherfucker didn’t stand a chance. I’m glad to see someone made it out of this piece of shit town… and with some eye candy on him.”

Crusher looks at Jenny and she flashes an uncomfortable smile. I reel her in, laughing as she wraps a hand around my waist.

“He’s only kidding, babe. Relax.”

Crusher chuckles. “He’s right. I know who you are to him.”

“You do?” Jenny asks, surprised.

“Jenny Roscoe. The only girl Doomsday ever loved. Shit, who wouldn’t know that? Heard about you through the twins a lot.”

Jenny looks up at me, blushing. “You boys must have done a lot of talking around here.”

I fight a laugh. “Nah. We just got nosy pricks like Crusher who ask a million and one questions.”

Crusher busts out laughing. He begins to say something else, but then a door shuts, stealing our attention away.

Hayley comes back in our direction, and as she does, the blinds of Flex’s office crack open. I see him standing there. He has his lights dim, but he can’t hide from me.

Hayley meets up to us, her face as straight as a board.

“Well?”

She looks back hesitantly before meeting my eyes again. “I don’t think he wants to talk.”

“What the hell do you mean? Does he need me to come back there to do it?”

“No… he just doesn’t want to talk to you… at all.”

She tucks her blonde hair behind her ear nervously, avoiding my eyes. I look over her, at that son-of-a-bitch standing there like we can’t see him. His eyes are hard, his jaw fixed.

“Really?” I clench my jaw. “All those fucking times he’s called and now he has nothing to say?!”

“Drake, let’s just go. It’s okay,” Jenny insists.

“No.” I focus on Hayley. “What exactly did he tell you to say to me? I know that isn’t it.”

She whips her head up with eyes as wide as discs. She takes a glimpse of Crusher who stands with his arms folded, confused about the entire situation.

“You really want to know?” she questions.

“Just fucking tell me.” My voice is a lot more agitated than it should be.

“H-he told me to tell you to fuck off and to make sure you take your
rich
bitch
with you.”

I feel Jenny flinch at my side, but I don’t dare react. At least, not right away. I feel my jaw ticking, my fists clenching. Jenny grabs my arm and tries to haul me back.

“Drake, babe, let’s just go, okay? We don’t have to be here. You tried and that’s all that matters.”

“My
rich
bitch
?” I scoff. I smile, but there is no trace of humor beneath it.

Crusher steps in front of me, raising his hands. “Calm down, Doom.”

“Why the fuck should I?”

A crowd collects around us, but none of them matter because I only have my eyes on one specific person. The coward hiding in his office, like I won’t go back there and kick his fucking door in.

“I see his still has no respect,” I laugh bitterly, looking around. “And you all continue to come to this gym to support that twisted fuck.”

Crusher looks elsewhere, but only because he knows it’s true.

“Does he realize that I can buy this fucking gym out and make it my own? That I fucking
made
this gym?! I’m the
only
reason any of you came here to fight!”

“Drake… please,” Jenny begs.

I glance down at her, and I want to walk away, I really do, but the fact that he can’t even face me after so many years proves just how much I really should fuck him up.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t go back there, drag him out on his ass, and prove my fucking point? That he’s nothing but a pussy that can’t even come out and make amends with his own fucking son? His flesh and blood? The ‘creator’ of the so-called Doomsday?”

The gym is silent for a while. I look at each fighter, some new and old. I look at Crusher and Hayley, and then at Flex standing in his office again.

“Because he has an expiration date, Drake,” Hayley whispers.

My eyes drop to hers. “What are you talking about?”

She looks down. “Flex has throat cancer. He was taking treatments but they weren’t working. He’s already dying. Why shorten his days even more?”

Jenny gasps.

I stand and stare. Motionless. I hear murmuring. Whispering. The pounding in my chest. I feel Jenny holding onto me, clinging as if her life depends on it.

I look around, up at Crusher who has empathy deep in his eyes. Hayley is on the verge of tears for God knows why, and everyone that is in the gym, taking photos and recording videos, they don’t really give a shit.

They just want to see a fight.

They only want to see me fuck up.

Well, that’s too fucking bad.

They aren’t getting a show tonight. Not here. Not in Fox River, and definitely not from me against a man with a death sentence.

“The fact that he’s dying gives him all the more reason to talk to me. Make some fucking amends.” I swallow thickly, grabbing Jenny’s hands. Before I go, I turn to look at Hayley. “Tell Flex that even if I dislike him, he is still my father. He did wrong, but who hasn’t? Tell him… fuck, tell him that when he’s ready to talk, to call my manager. He knows the number. I’ll be waiting.”

She nods rapidly. “I will, Doom.”

I nod and then I turn, bustling out of the gym with Jenny’s hand tight in mine. We make it outside and as soon as we are in the SUB, I punch the back of the seat.

The passenger seat’s headrest flies off and Bill shouts, “Holy shit!” as he watches it land on the dashboard.

“Drake!” Jenny screams.

I pant heavily, focused on my fists. My hands.

She reaches forward to clasp my face in her hands. Forcing my eyes on hers, she strokes my cheekbones, swiping the unwanted tears away.

“Why are you crying?” she whispers.

“I’m pissed the fuck off,” I mutter. “I got cheated out of making things right with him. I wanted to try, Jenny. I promise you.” My voice cracks and I fucking hate myself. I hate how weak I sound.

“For a second, I thought I could make things right with him. For the briefest of moments, I imagined Flex and me shaking hands tonight and getting on the same terms. I imagined him being… a father figure… maybe even my trainer. I imagined some sort of respect growing between us…somehow. It was one big fucking illusion.”

“No, no,” she coos. “It’s okay,” she assures me. “This is no longer your weight, Drake. You wanted to set things straight. He didn’t. He’s not a real man. But you
are
because you came here and you wanted to make things right. You heard what he said about us. He’s still angry. He’s a spiteful, lonely man and he will die that way, unless he decides to do what’s right. Let’s just hope he comes around. We can’t control what he says or does.”

I lock eyes with her and she caresses my cheek.

“This is our fresh start,” she whispers. “You tried. That’s all that matters. Now we move forward. Right?”

I unclench my fists, barely nodding. She smiles softly, picking up my hand to kiss the palm of it. Heat raids my body as I watch her kiss my skin over and over again. When she drops my hand and her lips land on my forehead, a feeling of wholeness swarms through me.

I watch her when she sits back and tells Bill to take us to the hotel. During the ride, my eyes don’t pull away from hers. I can’t look away. And I don’t know why.

My tamer.

My princess.

My woman.

Only she can do this. Make me see the good I’ve done, even when I feel like I wasn’t good at all.

“I was about to go back there, Jenny. I wanted to so badly.”

“I know.” She entwines our fingers. “But you didn’t. And like I said, that’s all that matters.” Her plump lips stretch and she presents the most innocent smile of all time.

I huff a laugh. “I still don’t know what you want with a fucker like me.”

“I love you.” Her voice is confident. She rests her head on top of my shoulder. “Isn’t that enough?”

I reach over, running my thumb across her bottom lip. I study her mouth, and then I lean down to devour it, consuming what’s mine. Right now I need her touch—her hot, little mouth on mine.

She is the antidote to all my rage. My all. She holds me down in ways I never thought possible. When our kiss breaks, she stares up at me, her chest closer to mine.

“It’s more than enough, babe,” I whisper against her lips. “
You
are more than enough for me.”