Midwest Fighter (Kendall Family Book 2) (23 page)

I was out of sorts when I kicked him out the other day, but perhaps it’s for the best that I remain out of his life. Whenever he looked at me, he’d be reminded of the accident and what could’ve been had I not been struck down. He’d never forgive himself for not protecting me. He’d be so angry at the world that it would become this thing between us that we’d be unable to tame.

Among the many memories to return, Evelyn’s declaration of wanting a niece to dote on sears my chest. It’s most difficult to look her in the eye whenever she comes to pay a visit. Although she never mentions the baby or her brother, I feel the unease she’s trying to hide from me in every hesitant movement, every unspoken word.

James stays away at my request, though I’ve heard his voice from the hallway and overhead Nolan updating him on my condition when he thought I was asleep. One morning when I wake, I literally have to rub my eyes with both fists, wondering if I’m off-my-tits on narcotics. The woman standing before me is a mere shell of the woman who raised me.

Time has not been kind to her aging body and her team of plastic surgeons has been busy nipping and tucking. It’s difficult to assess if the look she’s casting is a grimace or a smile. I suppose given the situation, it could be a bit of each. It’s terrifying to see a reflection of myself in her steel blue gaze. I’d fancy getting hit by a car again over becoming someone as artificial and calloused.

Just recently, Dad admitted he wasn’t able to reach her, said she had changed her number. Last he’d heard, she’d run off to Caicos with a new man.

“Mum?” I ask, surprised by the rawness of my voice. Seeing a glass of water at my table side, I stop to sip from the straw. The small effort it takes to set it back down sends a bolt of pain through my pelvis region. “What on earth are
you
doing here?”

At least when her brows draw down and her lips tighten I’m able to read her emotion. “Don’t be ridiculous. My daughter was struck down by a car.”

“Yes but last I heard you had run off with your newest flavor of the month.”

“His
name
is
Amando
.” She crosses the room to sit beside the bed, straightening the sheet beneath my armpits. No hugs, no declaration of love or glad that I’m a mere step above road-kill. It’s what I’ve come to expect every bit as much as the appearance of two little white pills she slips from her purse and swallows dry.

Holding back an eye roll of epic proportions, I shake my head. It’d be ridiculous to expect anything more from her after all these years. It takes me back to my childhood, watching her float in and out of lavish rehab facilities where she rubbed shoulders with the likes of washed-up rockstars and actresses. All it accomplished was to get her into exclusive events.

“How did you know where to find me?” I ask. “No one had your number.”

“Some persistent bloke rung me, said he discovered my whereabouts with the aid of a PI. He was quite crass even though he said he loved you. He was rather insistent that you needed your mum.”

James.

A warm appreciation strikes my core, reminding me why he would’ve made such an excellent father. He’d do whatever it took to make those he loves happy, even if his efforts were rejected. Even though I was being an asshole, he still was going after what’s best for me.

It strikes me with blinding clarity what a wanker I’ve been. James is everything I want in a man without really knowing it’s what I was searching for: kind, loving, sweet, gentle, loyal, and a tiger when it comes to sex. My
soulmate,
if I can wrap my head around the notion that we’re only meant to procreate with one other being out of the billions roaming this earth.

Unable to look me in the eye, Mum smooths back my hair instead.
“Please
tell me you weren’t foolish enough to fall for the antics of a handsome man, darling. You’re far too young and beautiful to fall prey to the idea that a relationship can last forever.”

“I’m
twenty-five,”
I remind her with more sass than intended. “Despite my neglectful upbringing, I’ve learned there are, in fact, happily-ever-afters, and people are capable of sharing the kind of love that sticks. And, might I add, it seems necessary that I remind you the two of us are nothing alike. I would
never
turn my back on those I care the most about in favor of a carefree lifestyle involving grossly younger boys who only want my money and an endless supply of Oxy to wash down with ridiculously priced cocktails in the sand.”

A pained expression flickers across her face as she lifts her hand, ready to strike my cheek. I close my eyes, willing her to slap some sense back into me for leaving the love of my life. I essentially followed in her footsteps by shutting him out. I made a grossly miscalculated mistake, and I can only pray to the gods of forgiveness that he’ll overlook the fact that I was a bloody fool.

Mum releases a stuttered sigh before I hear the tale-tale click of heels on tile.

She left. Again.

I refuse to become her by running away from the best thing that ever came into my life.

* * *

C
arrie
, the annoyingly bubbly nurse to answer my page for help, succeeds in rounding up James in record-breaking moments. A crippling heartache arises from deep within my soul when he appears in the doorway, rigid and hesitant. The thick beard remains and signs of exhaustion soften his normally hard features, standing out more than his blood-shot eyes that probe mine for answers. I’m responsible for this. I single-handedly made him this way.
My stomach wrenches with a pain brighter than the one inside my head and a wave of unbearable sadness releases with a loud sob.

James marches across the room and draws me into his arms, sniffling in my ear and creating a protective barrier around my body with his tense muscles. My head and the rest of my bruised body scream in pain with each cry, but it’s nothing compared to the misery of my broken heart.

It’s most jarring when I find myself at a loss for words, unable to come up with anything that would comfort the tender man holding me.
How do I apologize for pushing him away when he needed me most? How many losses does he have to endure?
Life’s so unfair, especially when he has to deal with wankers like me.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him in a voice thick with emotion.

“This is not on
you.
It’s my fault I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“Don’t be daft. You can’t be there every moment of the day.” I lean away to cradle his face in my hands, wishing there was a way to go back in time and erase the heartache forever imprinted in his gaze. “I didn’t want to hurt you, my love. I merely thought…I’m not exactly sure
what
I thought, really. I only know I was angry when you and the doctor explained what happened.”

“They warned me that people sometimes come out of comas with confusing thoughts, but I didn’t want to believe that it would happen to you. When you kicked me out, I thought you blamed me for the accident.” His eyes flicker away from me. “For losing the baby.”

I release too harsh of a laugh. “Are you mad? I pushed you away because I knew you’d try to shoulder the burden of what happened. I worried you’d never be able to let it go. I feared every time you looked at me you’d remember how you felt when I was unconscious. How you felt when you learned I had lost the baby. Kind of the way you can’t look at me right in this moment.”

When his eyes meet mine once more they’re lit with sincerity. “The only thing I see when I look at you is my future. My entire world.”

I pull in a deep breath, deeply moved by his devotion. After all I’ve done, how is he still able to say such things? I wouldn’t blame him if he were to make me rise from the bed so he could properly kick me in the arse. “Your
world
is not on a very stable axis,” I say, fingering the thick hair on his beard. “You poor thing. You must’ve been an utter wreck.”

Shaking his head, a quiet chuckle vibrates deep within his throat. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who knows how to turn everything around to make it about someone else. How about we worry about
you?
I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had died, little butterfly. Before the accident, I was so stoked about having you in my life that the idea of that being taken away…” Leaning into my touch, his eyes close as he pulls in a stuttering breath. “I love you so goddamned much. I don’t want to live another day without you by my side.”

When his eyelids open, the sadness and worry he harbored while I was out becomes raw, tangible. Wincing from its depths, I lean in to press my lips against his. One of his hands cradles the back of my head, his fingers nestling inside my hair. Our mouths open for our tongues to tangle in a slow, tentative pace that fills my heart with pure, radiant love. The sensation of his prickly hairs rubbing against my skin makes the kiss feel different, but the tenderness behind it is delightfully familiar and leaves me aching for more. Unfortunately, my traitorous body is quick to remind me he won’t be able to touch me in the way I want for some time.

I draw back, stroking his beard. “Did you ever leave the hospital?”

“Not at first. Charlie convinced the nurses to let me stay overnight until someone in administration heard I was sleeping in here. The past week and a half I mostly slept in the waiting room when Nolan wasn’t able to talk me into going back to the beach house. We’ve been hitting a local gym so he can teach me everything he knows about MMA. If he hadn’t stuck around, I don’t know that I would’ve made it this long.”

“Nonsense,” I argue with a small smirk. “You’re a
fighter,
sweetheart. You were born to survive the most dire of circumstances.”

“I wouldn’t survive losing you.”

“And I was enough of a knobhead to try to push you away.” Racked with guilt, I lean in to brush his lips with mine once more before asking, “I’m sure this is a waste of breath, but did my mum split town?”

“I saw her leave the hospital, but I don’t know where she went. She couldn’t have been in here for more than ten minutes. What happened?”

“She was simply herself,” I say with a slight shrug. “Don’t let it worry you. Unless you’re able to convince her that she has something to gain by staying and entering rehab, she’ll find some excuse to return to her narcotic-induced bubble of ignorant bliss.”

“She’s missing out by not being in your life,” he bites out as his gaze darkens. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that shit. It’s a miracle you turned out the way you did when you were raised by someone that fucking self-centered.”

“Perhaps that’s why you were meant to come into my life. You’ve more than made up for her negligence.” I resume stroking his face and ask, “Your mum must’ve been a kind woman to have raised such a tenderhearted son. Were you always this protective of your loved ones?”

“Some really bad shit went down when I was in high school,” he answers with a shake of his head. Then he looks away to the room’s windows overlooking the nurse’s station “I guess it made me realize everyone I care about is vulnerable in one way or another. I started boxing around that time in an attempt to keep my anger in check.”

My heart tears with the thought of something happening to young James. “Tell me,” I plead quietly, brushing a thumb across his lips. “What happened, luv?”

“Not my story to tell.” He looks back at me with tears in his eyes. “Just know Sofia has her reasons for moving away and for hating the world.”

“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, first losing both your mum and dad, now this.”

With a shrug of his shoulder, his brilliant smile makes an appearance. “Knowing you’re okay makes everything hurt a little less.”

“Do you remember the night I told you I’m no good at relationships?” When he dips his chin with a nod, I say, “Apparently my skills still require improvement. I wasn’t exactly raised with the best role model. Promise you’ll stick by my side, even when I’m a buffoon and unable to remember that as long as I’m with you, it’s impossible to want for something more. I mean it, James. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have caught you for whatever reason. Please don’t ever allow me to forget that fact.”

“I promise to never let you go,” he whispers before returning to my lips.

I
n the weeks
following my release from the hospital, I’m overwhelmed with daily sessions with the persistent physical therapist hired by Dad, a barrage of visits from well-meaning family and friends, and the transition from wheelchair to wheeled cart to cane. Though I’ve been offered enough painkillers to knock-out James
and
the whole lot of his new fighting friends, I’ve decided to work through the pain au natural based on Mum’s unhealthy history with painkillers, leading to sleepless nights and long days wrought with frustration. The fact that James has stuck by my side as promised should elevate him to sainthood in no time. It’s as if we’ve switched places where I’m suddenly the moody bloke and he’s doing everything in his power to make me happy.

Considering James is essentially homeless and I have no desire to return to my flat where the nightmare began, we’re fortunate to ride out the remainder of the summer on Charlie and Evelyn’s good graces, only having to share the beach house on the weekends with Katie and her mildly disgusting boys. When it comes time to getting around, I’m especially grateful for the layout intended to accommodate their wheelchair-bound mother.

While James seeks his own kind of therapy through the gym with Nolan as well as a highly recommended psychologist specializing in anger management, I’m left struggling with the loss of our baby in my own way. By the time Sofia comes to visit on holiday in the Hamptons over Labor Day, I’m well beyond due for a night with the girls.

Sofia, Evelyn, and Katie arrive with bags upon bags of food loaded with GMOs and sugar. For a several hours, the beach home takes on the personality of a hen house the way our voices and cackles float up to the rafters as we finish off a bottle of Jameson. Nothing can take away the dire situation of one’s life better than drunken conversations with good mates about fit celebrities and their asinine behaviors, especially when Evelyn is able to dish some of the gossip first-hand.

“I had an abortion in high school,” Sofia blurts out of nowhere.

Katie, Evelyn, and I simultaneously turn to gape at where she sits on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. She looks so unaffected that I expect her to admit she was joking.

“What?”
Evelyn whispers.

Sofia looks down at her glass with tears spilling down her cheeks. “It started out as an innocent date to the drive-inn. Bobby was a year older and really popular, so I was crazy excited that he agreed to go out with me because I was the quiet type. Later on, we got a case of beer and parked behind the Catholic church. I got uncomfortable when he tried to pull my underwear down and asked him to take me home, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I cried the entire time. A couple months later I realized I was pregnant. I couldn’t keep the baby…it was too hard.”

Evelyn appears white when she sets her drink down on the end table. “You mean Bobby
Krager?
Holy shit, Sof! Did Mom take you to the doctor?”

“I couldn’t tell her,” Sofia answers, shaking her head over and over. “She was going through chemo at the time, and she would’ve been so disappointed in my decision. I had a fake ID saying I was twenty but the clinic in Minneapolis made me arrange for someone to drive me home after the procedure. I asked James because I knew he was the only one in the family who would help me without telling Mom and Dad. That’s just how he was—always quiet and minding his own business. I made him promise he wouldn’t tell Bobby that he knew what happened either. He was so pissed that he started random fights at school and almost got expelled. Dad’s friend Cupp decided to teach James how to box. He stopped getting into trouble at school, but he never let what happened go because it was his idea for me and Bobby to hook up. They played football together and James talked him into taking me out. Of course he wouldn’t have known what Bobby was going to do, but he never forgave himself for what happened. It’s my fault he’s the way he is. If I hadn’t told him—”

“Nonsense,” I scold, crossing the room to pat her hand. “You were a victim. Your brother has a protective way about him that would’ve eventually come to light on its own even if you hadn’t gone through something so horrific.”

But my heart squeezes all the same, and it’s quite difficult not to become a puddle of tears. It’s no wonder my poor love has always been so overly protective and ready to take on everyone else’s heartache as his own.

“Sof,” Evelyn breaths among a choked cry. “I can’t believe you never told Angie…or me.”

Sofia wipes at her wet face before meeting her sister’s helpless look. “I couldn't tell you, Ev. You were so young when it happened. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like this, I just…I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. I figured you guys deserve to know.”

Katie’s eyes burn with anger when she asks, “Did you at least tell the cops so that little shit wouldn’t do it again to some other poor girl?”

“Back then I thought…” With a forced laugh, Sofia wipes at her face again and looks away. “I somehow thought that kind of thing naturally happened when someone agreed to go on a date. In my pubescent mind I figured he was someone I knew, so it was okay. Now I definitely know better and that’s why I want to become a prosecutor and put assholes like Bobby in jail.”

Evelyn runs to her sister and flings her arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Sof!”

At first I think Sofia, the most uptight of the Kendall family, is going to tell her little sister to bugger off. Then her face softens, and she ducks her face into Evelyn’s neck. The two of them are shaking with tears as Katie joins in, rubbing the sisters’ backs and whispering something I’m unable to hear. Thoughts of my sweet James forced to keep his sister’s brutal secret all this time makes me want to join their lot and have a proper cry.

Instead, I scurry around the corner to the wet bar, knowing it’s going to take something strong to get through this night. I retrieve four shot glasses before pulling Charlie’s prized hundred dollar bottle of tequila from the cupboard. Before I have time to pour the drinks, I hear the back door open and turn in time to see James step inside, hair and gym attire mussed from a workout.

Flashing one of his splendid grins fit for a god, his hands rise in front of his chest. “I know I’m not supposed to be here on girls’ night. I’m just stopping to shower and change before meeting up with the guys.” When there’s a loud sob from the adjoining room, he bends to peer around the corner at his sisters and Katie. “What’s with them?”

Between his knicker-wetting body, still somewhat slick with perspiration, and the stabbing pains of empathy raking my chest, I’m unable to hold back and make a mad dash for him, throwing myself into his burly arms. Despite my tears, I almost come on the spot with his post-workout musk that never fails to drive me completely nutters.

“Whoa,” he says among a chuckle before kissing the top of my head. “What’s wrong?”

“Sofia told us everything!” I cry into his hard, clammy chest. “Just when I thought it wasn’t possible to love you any more I hear of the hell you put yourself through in keeping her secret! I want nothing more than to transport back in time and tuck young James away in a bloody bubble!”

“Don’t cry for me, little butterfly. I have you,” he whispers, stroking my back. “Sofia’s the one who needs someone to love her the way you love me.”

“My
god
you’re too sweet to be real,” I profess, drawing away to nuzzle against his cheek. I drag my lips along his recently shaven jaw until I meet his warm, needy mouth. Then, breathless, I draw away to add, “I don’t suppose I can convince you to take me to the bedroom and have your way?”

Digging his fingers into my ass, he makes one of his growling noises. “Not until the doctor says your body is ready.”

“Off you go then. Once you’ve had your fun with Nolan and Charlie, you can bring them back to hang with us girls." Sliding my fingertips beneath the edge of his T-shirt, I grin. “Don’t tell anyone, but there’s an unwritten rule stating girls’ night can be interrupted for a proper dosage of eye candy.”

Though his eyes narrow, his lips quirk with a playful smile. “I better be the only flavor of
candy
you enjoy.”

“You have no idea,” I whisper.

* * *

S
everal weeks later
, as we’re rolling down the streets of Brooklyn Heights, my big, brave protector looks a bit out of sorts driving the economy sized rental car. Still, it’s hard not to feel a sense of pride the way he navigates through the neighborhood as if he’s lived here his whole life rather than months. If I have anything to say about it, we’ll live out the remainder of our lives here together, raising a whole lot of miniature Kendalls.

The Hamptons are quite lovely, and I’ve enjoyed every minute we’ve had the luxurious beach house to ourselves, but it will never beat the familiar cobblestone streets and feeling of community I get from being home—
home
being a relatively loose term as I intend to give Richard notice that I’m permanently moving out of the flat just as soon as I’ve mustered the courage. The sinister side of me wishes to rile James and unleash him for the deed, knowing Richard would likely soil himself if a threat of any caliber were to be made.

Since we left the beach house, James has been driving below the speed limit and nearly slowing to a complete stop with every turn or bump in the road. Though I don’t normally care to be treated like a crystal vase, I appreciate how hard he’s trying to avoid creating any added pain to my healing body.

Little does he know, I’ve been cleared to shag to my heart’s content so long as I can tolerate any pain it may cause. While I’ve done what I can to elevate James’s sexual frustration, he refuses to go anywhere near my pelvic region, apparently worried he’ll undo the healing or whatever voodoo has settled in his stubborn head. I’m worried he’ll leave me no choice other than to tie him up and have my way.

Though I don’t ask why we’re a dozen blocks from my flat, the moment we’re parked beside a row of early 19th-century Federal houses, a bolt of curiosity hits me square in the stomach.

“I’ve always loved this neighborhood,” I comment in a high voice, undoing my seatbelt before joining him on the sidewalk. I’ve been in the area several times as a friend from the university recently purchased a home just down the block. There’s a decade-long queue of hopeful tenants wanting to get into the buildings that line the river. “Are you going to fill me in on whatever it is you're up to?”

“Just wait until you see the view from the balcony,” he tells me with a wicked grin, taking my hand before throwing me a knicker-melting wink. My neglected vagina perks to life, begging me to take him here and now on this sidewalk. To hell with witnesses—perhaps we could do them the service of educating them on proper love making.

“Have you found somewhere that rents by the hour?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

He’s unable to answer before a smart-dressed woman appears in one of the doorways. It takes a moment for my brain to register that it’s Carrie, the bubbly nurse who was always trying to brighten my day while I was in the hospital.

“Sharlo!” she gushes with enough enthusiasm to gag a saleswoman at Saks. “You look
amazing!
It’s so awesome to see you again!”

“Likewise!” I answer, trying to muster the same level of zest. Seems James was busy making friends while I was out. Pretty ones, I might add, even though I’m not normally the type to let jealousy rear its foolish head.

Carrie holds the mission-style door wide and motions for us to hurry. “Come on in!”

I eye the set of stairs separating us and sigh. I’ve come a long way in my recovery, but stairs still remain a bit of a bitch.

“We’ll meet you inside,” James tells her in a slightly dismissive tone.

Carrie nods knowingly before disappearing behind the door. All at once James sweeps me into his arms, carrying me up the stairs like a small child. I giggle rather than telling him to set me down, knowing he won’t take “no” for an answer even if his chivalry makes me feel like a fool. I’ve learned since devoting myself to James that most things are not worth a fight unless they’re rewarded with an earth-shattering orgasm.

“Is there a reason we’re paying a house call to Nurse Carrie?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He merely smirks in return as we climb the last of the steps. Once we’re through the front door he sets me down, releasing me with a knicker-wetting kiss.

I’m dizzy as I give the place a proper look. It’s empty and open, reminding me of Evelyn and Charlie’s beach house, and seems to have recently undergone a makeover. New bamboo flooring stretches into each visible room and the faint smell of paint rolls off the white walls. Tall windows on the far side of a cozy sitting room with a fireplace give an awe-inspiring view of the Manhattan skyline.

Nurse Too-Bloody-Perky is nowhere to be seen as James leads me through the main floor into more empty rooms and a quaint galley kitchen equipped with new appliances and arts and craft style cupboards. It’s drool-worthy, really, and has me dreaming what it would be like to live in such a beautiful place with a prime location.