Brawler (20 page)

I walked her quickly back to the boutique, careful not to say a word. I had to be honest, so I had to be silent. There were things I needed to say, but I couldn’t say them here. Not like this. Not until we were back in California and I could set things right, and while it would probably make me an orphan again, at least I’d be a man.

I sat back in my seat and stared at Laney across the small, intimate table. Her golden hair was perfectly curled, her makeup flawless, her nails freshly done, and her green dress hugged every sculpted curve of her body. She looked incredible. Sexy. Men’s eyes found her in the room and looked at her for too long. She pretended to ignore them, but she knew they were there. She’d be upset if they weren’t.

It was our last night in New York and she had made reservations for us at this restaurant back when we planned the trip months ago. I told her that afternoon that I wanted to cancel. I’d said I wasn’t feeling up to going out, and she’d lost it. She got panicky and cried, a reaction I was seeing a lot of ever since she’d cheated on me and insisted I be with her every second of every day. It was like she was afraid if she let me out of her sight I’d run, and I had to ask myself why that thought hadn’t occurred to me.

She smiled up at me sweetly. “Do you know what you’re going to order?”

“I haven’t got a clue,” I said mutedly.

“You didn’t even touch your menu,” she chuckled softly. “Are you waiting to hear the specials?”

“No. I’m not waiting for anything.”

It was a lie. I’d always been good at lying to Laney.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“No.”

“Then what are you going to order?”

“Nothing, because I’m not hungry.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then why are we out getting dinner?”

“Because you wouldn’t stop nagging me about it.”

She frowned, putting her menu down on the table. “What’s wrong with you?”

I shook my head loosely. “Nothing.”

“There’s something,” she said suspiciously. “Do you want me to guess?”

“Not really.”

She picked up her menu again and flipped through it thoughtfully. “Then I suggest you perk up, buttercup.”

I scowled at yet another nickname. “Did you just call me buttercup?”

She smiled at me over the table. “Got your attention, didn’t it? Made you smile?”

“I’m not smiling.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

She cocked her head. “Are you sure? ‘Cause it looks like a smile from here.”

“You need glasses.”

“I’d look hot in glasses, don’t you think?” I heard the
thunk
under the table as she slipped her shoe off. Her foot was soon running warm and soft up the inside of my leg. “Like a sexy librarian. Or a doctor about to give you a very thorough exam.”

I scooted back slightly, slamming my legs together.

“You are so grumpy,” she scowled. “Seriously, what is your problem?”

“What was his name?” I asked curtly.

Her smile faltered. “Whose name?”

“The guy you slept with. What was his name?”

“Kellen,” she said softly, her face falling, “this isn’t a good place to have this discussion.”

She had first told me about the infidelity in a movie theater. Her perception of appropriate locations for ‘this discussion’ was suspect.

“When would be a good time for you?” I asked coolly.

“We’ll talk about it back home. For now, can’t we enjoy this vacation?”

“You really want to sit here and eat together with that on the backburner?” I asked incredulously. “You want to fly back to California like this, pretending everything is perfect?”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes flashing around the room. “Yes.”

“Well, I don’t,” I told her plainly, “so either answer the question or let’s leave right now.”

“Let’s just have dinner and—“

“Alright, your call,” I interrupted, sitting forward. “What was the motherfucker’s name?” Her mouth tightened in disapproval and I held up my hand in warning. “If you tell me to watch my language like your mom does, I’ll shout the word.”

“What has gotten into you all of the sudden?” she demanded, her eyes going round with worry. “I thought we were good. I thought we’d put this all behind us.”

“Clearly I’m still struggling with it.”

“Can’t we talk about it later? Somewhere private?”

I didn’t answer. I sat there blankly staring at her for way too long. To the point where it got awkward, and when our waiter came by, he immediately turned and left without a word because the tension between Laney and I was so thick, he’d smelled it the second he came close. Other people in the restaurant began to take notice. They looked at us out of the corner of their eyes, whispered to each other over the candles on their tables.

Here’s why the cheating pissed me off so much all the sudden – it was hypocritical as hell.

She’d accused me of cheating for years when I never had. I’d never been unfaithful to anyone in my life, but I’d been treated like I was a manwhore for the better part of a decade. It was infuriating. And, yes, I’d been with Laney for all these years while I was in love with her sister, but I’d never touched Jenna while Laney and I were together. I’d made a point to avoid her. I’d walked away from my only true friend to make sure I didn’t slip up because even though I wasn’t in love with Laney, I respected her enough not to cheat on her.

Clearly she didn’t feel the same way.

Finally Laney shook her head faintly and whispered harshly, “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are
we
doing any of this?” I shot back.

“Any of what? I’m not doing anything.”

“You slept with another guy, Lane.”

“It was a mistake and I said I was sorry.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“You said we were okay.”

“I was wrong.”

She scowled at me, annoyed. “What’s happening? What are you saying?”

I breathed out harshly through my nose, running my hand over my face. Finally I stood up and tossed a twenty on the table for our drinks. It landed in the wet ring around my untouched glass. “You’re right,” I told her calmly. “We shouldn’t do this here. Let’s go.”

“What exactly is it we’re doing?” she asked hesitantly, standing slowly from her chair.

“We’re talking.”

“Just talking?”

I got her coat, draped it over her shoulders, and silently led her out of the door. The cold Fall air snapped against my face as I moved to the curb to hail a cab. I felt Laney following behind me, but she stayed silent. Distant.

I liked it.

When a cab arrived, I held the door open for her and she got in without question or protest. I gave the driver the name of our hotel, then we were off; cruising through the streets of New York as the lights blurred past the windows that were pelted with a light, cold rain.

“It’s not all on you,” I eventually muttered to the dirty glass. My breath fogged against it, further blurring the outside world and making everything unrecognizable. “So much of this is on me.”

“What is?”

“How jacked up we are. Ninety percent of this is my fault. We’re a mess because I’m a mess.”

She sighed impatiently. “Kel, we’re not a mess.”

“Seriously?” I chuckled darkly. “You slept with someone else and I didn’t even care. How is that normal?”

“We’ve never been normal, but we work.”

“I’ve started having panic attacks.”

She hesitated. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“About what?”

“Everything. You. Me. The house. The wedding. My job. Our engagement. Boxing.”

“That really is everything,” she muttered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I haven’t told anyone.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did he say?”

I started to feel claustrophobic. The cab felt too hot, the space too small. “He told me to get therapy.”

“Then we need to get therapy,” Laney insisted. “We’ll go together. We’ll get couple’s therapy and work this out.”

I didn’t answer. I’d tell her everything when we got to the hotel. That I didn’t want to buy a house. That I didn’t want to go through with the wedding.

That I didn’t know whose life I’d been living, but it sure as shit wasn’t mine.

“Why do you need to know his name?” Laney asked tightly in response to my silence. “It won’t change anything.”

I stared out the window with unfocused eyes. “I know.”

“Then why?”

“You’re right. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know his name.”

“Then what? What do you want from me?” she demanded, exasperated.

“Nothing.”

“How much nothing?”

I shook my head. “We’ll talk when we get to the hotel.”

I would get my own room tonight. I wouldn’t lie down next her ever again.

“Max,” Laney said unapologetically. “His name is Maxwell Campbell.”

Is.
Not
was.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my eyes were burned and blinded by two white lights. Horns blared, the lights barreled down on us, Laney screamed, and it wasn’t until the last second when the impact hit that I realized what was happening.

Then the world went black.

The sun is bright.

It’s hot out.

The pavement burns under my bare skin exposed by my shorts.

I drag colorful bits of chalk across the rough surface. They chip and break but they leave their mark.

Faded blues, yellows, and a red so faint it looks pink.

Kellen.

My mom’s voice. She’s calling to me.

There’s music coming from far off. It’s broken and tinny.

Voulez-vous crème glacée?

The ice cream man. The truck is rolling down the street toward us.

I smile up at my mom, but I have to squint against the sun. Her face is black shadow. Lost.

Oui, maman.

She doesn’t answer. I wait patiently but she stands motionless. Faceless.

Maman?

She doesn’t respond.

The pavement is becoming uncomfortable. Too rough. Too hard.

Ma-

Her shadow explodes, blotting out the light. It descends on me as the heat is sucked from my skin. I’m knocked backwards until my head hits the ground hard and the world goes dark and so, so cold.

I’m shivering violently from the cold and fear. I can’t see or hear anything and I can’t get up. The ground is smooth beneath me. Perfectly flat, frigid, and hard. My bones ache where they’re being pushed against it. There’s something on top of me holding me down. Pinning me to the ground as I shiver and shake, completely blind in the blackness surrounding me.

Someone. I hear breathing. Labored and wrong. It’s in my ear, bursting against the lobe, tickling my hair over my skin. I try to recoil from it but I can’t move. I can barely breathe.

Stay quiet.

The voice is rough. Scratchy. I want to scream.

It’ll be over soon.

A hand grabs my wrist, fingers locking around it like a vice.

Maman,
I cry out for her, but I know she’s gone. I’m alone.

My small bones feel like they’ll break under the force of the hands holding me.

You’ll like it.

I’m crying. I’m convulsing. I’m dying.

You’re gonna feel so good, baby. You’ll see.

………i hope i die………

Réveil.

Wake up.

The weight is crushing me. Pinching, pulling, hurting me.

No,
I whimper. I want to disappear. I want to be nothing. I want to be anything but this.

Please,
my mother calls. Her voice is too faint. I can barely hear her.

She’s on the wind.

Why?
I plead.

You’re a fucking fighter.

I don’t know who’s speaking anymore. The voices are merging and changing in my ears.

Why won’t they let me sleep? I don’t want to feel this. I don’t want to be here. It hurts. Everything hurts so much. I’m so alone.

Why? Why won’t she let me die?

Because I
love
you…

My eyes shot open then slammed shut against the blinding bright light. My heart hammered hard in my chest as I braced for the impact that I knew was coming.

It never did.

I took short, panting breaths before trying to open my eyes again. The light flared brightly then started to dim. Colors and shapes made their way through the white. My eyes burned and itched with a sandpaper dry feeling that I couldn’t seem to blink away. I wanted to rub them but my arms felt heavy and strange. I couldn’t feel the rest of me.

A voice was in the room with me. I wondered if it was a television because the audio was muffled and indistinct. It droned on and on from somewhere on my right and I was surprised I could easily turn my head toward it. There was a black shape there. I waited for it to come into focus. A person. A girl. The voice was getting clearer. The words made no sense but the sound was familiar. So was the shape of the body. The smell.

Soap and sweetness.

I listened to her nonsensical words as she muttered, reading from something in her hand, and then she started to doze. I watched her head fall forward inch by inch until her chin nearly rested on her chest.

Suddenly the idea of her leaving me in that room alone scared me more than anything had in a long time. I worried she’d fall asleep and I’d slip under again, or worse – that this waking was a dream. One she was fading out of.

“Jenna?” I croaked.

Her head snapped up, her round eyes finding mine and pulling me to painful sharp clarity.

“Kel?” she asked, her voice hushed in amazement.

I grinned at her. “Hey.”

Her phone slipped from her fingers, clattering to the ground. She ignored it.

“Hi,” she whispered.

I stared at her face as it settled into focus. The sting of the brightness in the room was fading. The flare was dissipating and behind her I could make out furniture beside a window.

I licked my lips. “Where—”

I couldn’t finish. My throat closed up painfully and I realized the inside of my mouth was bone dry.

“Do you want water?” Jenna asked, standing quickly. “Are you thirsty?”

I nodded, watching her. She was nervous. Jumpy. It wasn’t like her. I kept my eyes on her as she brought the water to me, fitting the straw between my lips. I drank slowly. My stomach ached, my throat felt stretched and raw, my limbs hurt in strange disjointed places. The world was coming back to me slowly by degrees and it was freaking me out. I remembered there had been an accident, but how bad was it? Had I been in it with Jenna? She looked okay, not a scratch on her. I must have been alone.

“You remember me?” she asked, setting down the cup when I was finished.

That question was a red flag.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, frowning and glancing around the room. We were the only ones there. “How long have I been out?”

She immediately reached for the call button. “I should get the doctor.”

“Wait,” I snapped, my heart suddenly racing. The familiar feel of anxiety brought bile into the back of my throat. “Answer me. How long have I been out?”

She hesitated. “A few weeks.”

A few weeks!
my mind shouted, echoing the words around in my skull. It felt like it’d only just happened. I tried to remember, but it was disjointed and blurry. I remembered Jenna and I at the park. The bridal boutique… I knew I’d had dinner with Laney, that I was angry at her about the other guy and pretty much everything, but I couldn’t remember how it’d gone. I didn’t remember the flight home, either.

“Kellen, I should really get the doctor,” Jenna continued. “I don’t know how much to tell you or if I should tell you anything.”

“You should always tell me everything.”

“I don’t want to…”

“You don’t want to what?” I demanded, losing my patience with her. With everything.

She threw her hands in the air, looking as frustrated as I felt. “I don’t want to break your brain! You’ve been in a coma for three weeks and you were speaking French to me like I was your mom and asking for ice cream,” something about those words made me break out in a cold sweat, “and we didn’t know if you’d know us when you woke up, if you woke up at all, so I’m a little scared of what to say because what if it sends you back to sleep or something?”

I stared at her blankly, “I don’t even like ice cream.”

“Yeah, you do,” she told me patiently, calming down. “You don’t like frozen yogurt. Or gelato.”

“Gelato and ice cream are the same thing.”

“Clearly not ‘cause you hate the hell out of one and you love the other.”

I frowned. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Are
you
fucking with
me
? How do you not know your own likes and dislikes? How is it that I have to know these things for you?”

I ignored her question, glancing around the room again. The window came into focus. It was raining and overcast, not very California. We were still in New York. I spotted a purse on a coffee table. Coach. Definitely not Jenna’s.

“Is it just you?” I asked carefully.

“No. Mom is here. She’s getting coffee. Laney is at the hotel sleeping. She caught a cold and can’t come in to see you until she’s over it.”

I swallowed hard, frantically trying to piece things together. We must have been in an accident either on the way to or from the restaurant. “She’s okay then?”

“Yeah. She’s perfect.”

“The driver?” I asked absently.

“Both fine, though one is in jail. You got the worst of it.”

I scanned the room again, feeling pent up and wild, and not even sure what I was looking for. Maybe an escape.

“I should really ring for the nurse,” Jenna said softly.

“Wait.” I reached out with my right hand to stop her from hitting the button, to buy myself a few more minutes of peace with her, but it didn’t cooperate like it should. I hadn’t noticed it until now; a huge cast, stark white and foreboding.

I scowled at it. “How bad is that?”

“Pretty bad,” she admitted reluctantly. “They’re hoping for the best but they think you’ll still have some sensitivity.”

“It’ll ache when it rains?” I asked wryly.

“Or burn like fire when you hit someone.”

Motherfucker.

The good news just kept on coming.

I let my arm drop heavily onto the bed, chuckling bitterly. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t do that anymore, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know about that,” she muttered.

“What were you reading to me?” I asked her, desperate to change the subject.

Jenna knelt down slowly to pick up her phone and I watched her long, lean body bend in half then rise back up to her full height. She was so tall. So lithe and goddamn graceful. It killed me. It always had. Watching her move made me ache in a hundred different ways.

“Nothing,” she said flippantly.

“It wasn’t nothing. I heard you reading before you fell asleep. What was it?”

“A comic.”

“A comic book?” I asked, surprised. When had she started reading comics?

She shrugged, looking at me defiantly like she was ready to fight about it. It was a sure sign she’d had this conversation with her mom before. “A graphic novel, but yeah.”

“What one?”

“
V for Vendetta
.”

“Sit down. Keep reading.”

She shook her head as she set her phone down. “I need to get the nurse. I should have done it already.”

“God, Jenna, please don’t,” I groaned in annoyance, scrubbing my face hard with my left hand. I was sick of her trying to pawn me off on other people. I wanted her to just sit down and be with me. I wasn’t ready for anyone else yet. “I need a minute, okay? It’s a lot to take in finding out you’ve been out of the game for weeks. The last thing I remember is…” I remembered a lot of things. A lot of dreams. Nightmares. “I remember the night of the accident. It’s shattered and weird, but it’s the last thing I remember. A lot of crazy, loud noises, a whole lot of fuckin’ pain and then you sitting here in a silent room reading to me. I’m getting some serious whiplash here so please, give me a minute before you call in nurses and doctors. Especially before your mom and Laney.”

“Do you want me to go? To give you a minute alone?”

“No,” I barked. “I want you to sit your ass down and read me that damn book.”

She glared down at me, her eyes narrowed and her mouth a thin pink line.

“Say the magic word,” she demanded sharply, “or you can suck it, Kellen Coulter.”

There are no words to describe how much I loved her then.

As she stared down at me sternly waiting for me to check myself, I felt suddenly calm. Solid. My racing, frantic, panicked brain slipped into gear under that familiar gaze.

I smiled at her. "S'il vous plait, Nonpareil."

She grinned grudgingly and I knew I was forgiven. I also knew the magic word in that sentence wasn’t ‘please’. “Oh, we’re bringing out the big guns now?”

“I know what works.”

“You’re the worst. How many women have you called that?”

“How many have I called Nonpareil?” I asked, my smile fading.

“Yeah.”

“One.”

“Just one, huh?”

“Just one,” I told her honestly. “You’re the only one. You’re beyond compare.”

She chuckled at me, shaking her head. “You’re so full of shit.”

“What? You’re too tough to take a compliment now?”

“I’m too wise to you to fall for your tricks. I’ve seen you in action. I know what this is.”

“What is it?”

“Flattery. Very, very good flattery, especially with those eyes and that smile. Even five minutes out of a coma and you’ve got skills. It’s impressive but it’s empty. It’s just what you do.”

Empty. It’s just what you do.

That hurt. Probably because it was true, but to hear it from Jenna, to know she thought I was putting on the mask and doing the act with her, that sucked.

“Not with you,” I told her, fighting to keep my voice calm.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really. Never with you.”

She stared at me for a long time. I stared back, never flinching, barely blinking. I watched with fascination as emotions flickered across her face. Jenna rarely hid anything. It was a form of honesty that shamed the crap out of me, and as I watched so many feelings pass through her eyes, like watching a movie on a screen telling me the story of her, I wondered what that kind of freedom would feel like.

It looked beautiful.

And then it was over.

She put on the stern face again and asked, “Do you want to hear this book or not?”

I leaned back into my pillow. “Let’s do this.”

“Don’t go to sleep.”

I chuckled. “I’m wide awake, Jenna.”

She settled in the chair beside me. I stared up at the ceiling listening to her voice as she read to me. I didn’t pay attention to the words. I was too far inside my own head hearing her voice. It was like the moment we’d found in the park – the one that’d been so comfortable it’d nearly hurt. I missed being with her the way I missed boxing – like it was an imperative part of me that I needed to feel whole. Like I was dying without it.

“Oh my God!”

My eyes snapped to the doorway. Karen stood there, her hand clenched tightly around a Starbucks cup. I worried she’d crush it.

“Jenna, is…”

“He’s awake,” she confirmed, standing slowly.

Karen met my eyes and took a hesitant step toward me.

“Morning,” I said with a smile.

“Oh my God!” she cried again, lunging at me.

It physically hurt when she fell on top of me, but I didn’t complain. I wrapped my good arm around her and whispered to her that I was alright as she cried into my neck. She shook from the force of it and I felt the unfamiliar sting of tears at the back of my eyes.

“We thought we’d lost you,” she whimpered.

“I’m still here.”

“I love you so much, sweetheart. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

I hesitated, afraid to answer. My voice would not be even. She’d know I was choked up and I had never cried in front of any of them. But then I looked at Jenna standing there with that incredible freedom on her face and I wanted to know it. I wanted to feel it too.

“I won’t,” I whispered shakily, feeling dizzy. “I promise.”

She hugged me tighter, my ribs screamed, but then she stood up and wiped at her face. Tears were still streaming from her eyes but she was smiling broadly.

“What did Laney say when she found out?” she asked unsteadily. “Is she on her way? Can she come in even with her cold? Where are the doctors? What have they said?”

“I just woke up,” I lied evenly. “Just seconds before you walked in. Jenna hasn’t had a chance to call the doctors yet.”