Spent - Part Two (Bad Boy Fighter Book 2) (7 page)

I grin to myself at the thought. Even though, physically, I don’t feel anywhere near what I should be to be compatible with Luke, he’s made me feel nothing but accepted and admired. I’m far from ugly, I know that much at least, but dormant daddy issues have always kept me from completely accepting and loving every aspect of my body, just as it is.
 

There’s always going to be that voice in the back of my mind, my father’s voice, telling me that I’m never going to be good enough.

“What’s up, Babe? You seem to have a lot on your mind tonight,” Luke’s voice pulls me out of my somber thoughts.

“My father called me as I was heading to the arena today,” the words stumble out of my mouth.

Even though I hadn’t thought about the phone call much, I know that it's been hanging in the back of my mind, tormenting me. It’s probably a good chunk of the reason behind why I’ve been so weepy all day.

“Your step-dad?"
 

I bite my bottom lip, “My bio dad."

“Oh,” Luke’s voice softens.

He only knows a little about my real father, but I’ve told him enough that he should know that the phone call was not a welcomed one.

“What did he want?"
 

“The same thing he always wants,” my voice gets a little more stern, “forgiveness."
 

Luke places his hand against my back, “Do you want to talk about him?"
 

“You don’t want to hear it,” I grumble.

I know I shouldn’t be in a foul mood, but just the thought of my father stirs up so many emotions within me, the main one being bitterness. Anytime I think about it, I immediately come across as being angry at the person I’m talking to, even if it’s someone I care a lot about.

“I want to know everything about you, Tash,” he draws me in against his chest.

I nestle my head against his bulging pec, “There you go again with the cheese."

“It got you to snuggle with me, though,” his voice vibrates through his chest, sending a feeling of comfort through my body.

“Whatever,” I chortle.

“How ‘bout we do this,” Luke sets his burger off to the side, “I’ll tell you something from my past, then you tell me something from yours. We’ll keep trading off until we get tired, or whatever."
 

“Hmm, that might be interesting. I’m afraid your stories will likely be far more interesting than mine,” I set my burger down so that I can snuggle even closer to my man.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Natasha,” Luke’s tone turns sullen suddenly, “There’s a lot that I’m not proud of."

“Hey,” I whisper, as I place my hand against his heart, “I care about the man you are today. Whatever happened helped turn you into the wonderful person I get to call my boyfriend."

Luke smiles down at me, but I can still see a trace of remorse in his eyes, “Thanks, Baby. I’m just glad you met me at this point in my life and not when I was younger."

“I probably couldn’t have handled younger you’s libido,” I wink.

“Younger me was too focused on breaking into cars and robbing people than getting laid."

What words I might have said get caught in my throat. This is not at all the route I had expected our conversation to go down. I had just always assumed that Luke probably had a better upbringing than I, considering how sweet and innocent he acts. Now it’s starting to appear that my sweet and innocent Luke was more of a transformation than naiveté.

“What made you stop doing that?” I whisper.

“Stewart,” Luke mutters, staring off blankly into space.

“The trainer?"
 

“Yeah, the one you met. He helped me channel my anger into fighting professionally instead of through getting into trouble with the gang I was in."
 

“You were in a gang?” Once again, my mouth gets ahead of my brain. I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth, afraid that I might be going too far.

“Bad Boys, we were called. And I know… Even my old gang name was cheesy as hell, but to us kids it meant everything. It was our life and the only way I knew how to take care of my mom and sisters. We needed the money,” Luke shrugs.

“Why did they need you to take care of them?"

“Nope, your turn,” Luke rubs my shoulder, “Tell me something about you."

“Leaving me hangin’,” I grumble, “What would you like to know?"

“Everything,” Luke smiles down at me.

I roll my eyes, “Not helpful."

“Tell me about your parents."

“My father’s from Puerto Rico and my mom’s from Missouri."

“I meant tell me more about what they were like when you were growing up. And I didn’t know you’re Latina."
 

“Half,” I smirk.

“That explains the attitude."

“Hey,” I playfully punch him in the abs.

“I just thought it was the red hair,” Luke grins, “So, how did your parents meet?"

“He was in the Navy and stationed near the town that my mom grew up in,” my voice trails off as I recall the story I had been told countless times during the moments that my father was coherent, a life time ago now.

“Are you the only kid they had?” Luke cradles me tenderly against him.

“Your turn,” I grin.

Luke groans, “Bitch."
 

“You started it,” I kiss his pec.

“Fine, where did we leave off?"

I nuzzle my nose against his chest, “Why you needed to take care of your family, Luke the Bad Boy.”

“I’m going to regret telling you that name I can already tell,” Luke smiles then straightens up a little, continuing to hold me, “Well, our dad died when I was pretty young in a boating accident. He was good to us all. I remember a lot of laughter when he was around, and it hurt us all when he left.”

I lay quietly listening to my beautiful man expose his history to me.

“After he died my mom kind of lost her light. She was really distant for a long while, grieving. She slowly recovered and did what she could to take care of everything for the four of us.”

“I was angry I suppose. A boy needs his father maybe. I don’t know, but I was angry and I guess I wasn’t an easy child after that.”

 
“Mom got breast cancer, things got pretty bad and I’m not proud to admit it, but stealing cars and breaking into garages was an easy way to bring in the extra money we needed. It gave me an outlet for my anger and put some guys around me to bond with. Mom never asked too many questions about the money, she was sick and I lied a lot about where it came from.”
 

“I’m so sorry, Baby,” I wrap my arms around his waist. I’m beginning to feel like he’s going to need to be held more than me.

“Hindsight is a lot clearer as an adult, and I wish every day I’d been a better kid and spent more time with her,” Luke’s face goes from blank to downcast, “She died my senior year of high school.”
 

Everything inside of me wants to reach out and take away all of his pain. Those beautiful hazel eyes have been holding a story behind them this entire time, but I never would have guessed that it was this story of pain and tribulation.

“Oh Luke,” I pull him in closer to me. He stands firm, not giving up his position of being the one doing the holding, but he does lean into me slightly.

“It’s okay. It was better that way. She was in so much pain,” his voice trails off, as his brow furrows. The lines etched into his face revealing the depths of the painful memory.

I want to explore it with him. He has sadness and regrets, and I feel like we’ve barely touched on the complexity of what’s made Luke into the kind hearted, but scarred man he is today.

“Your turn now,” he insists with a deliberate smile and a change in tone, obviously wanting to put that conversation away for now, “You’re not getting off that easily.”

“Well, ok. So, how about this. I’m an only child,” I make an effort to change the subject, hoping that it will ease some of his pain.

Luke doesn’t miss a beat, “That must have been boring."

“Extremely,” I half smile, “It would’ve been nice to have had a lot of siblings like you did."

“Hah,” Luke scoffs, “I doubt that. Three sisters is sheer craziness. I think I spent a decade fighting just to gain access to the bathroom.”

“But you love them,” I chuckled.

“They’re all I’ve had, until I met you,” Luke smiles softly down at me.

If I had been standing, I’m pretty sure my knees would have buckled out from under me. His words hit me hard. They’re bordering on confession of something deep and intimate, but still loose enough to leave me hanging.

“When was the last time you saw your dad?” Luke asks, catching me off guard.

The last memory I have of my father and I together floods my mind. Hot tears immediately prick the corners of my eyes. It’s not a memory I’ve thought about recently, but I know now that if I want to be remotely serious with Luke, he needs to know.

“The last time I saw him, he was throwing me through a wall in our trailer.”

Luke’s hand brushes through my hair. Resting my head against his chest, I listen to his heartbeat. The rhythm is soothing, exactly what I need to hear. His tender fingertips brush across my temples as he caresses my hair.

“I’m sorry, Tasha,” he whispers, as he plants a gentle kiss against the top of my head.

“It was a long time ago,” I mutter.

“But it still hurts,” his hand eases down to my shoulder.

“Always."
 

“That’s something I can understand,” Luke sighs softly.

“Mom decided to leave after that,” I mumble against Luke’s chest, “It was the first time my father ever really hurt me. She realized he was probably going to kill us if she didn’t get us out."

“I’m glad she got you out. It takes a strong woman to be able to do that,” Luke adds, “I knew of a few families with abuse stories from my time on the streets where the women just stayed in their relationships, no matter the pain it caused their children."

“Sometimes I wish she had gotten out sooner,” I confess, wiping a tear away that was threatening to drip down onto Luke’s chest, “But I’m just happy she finally did it."

“I’d like to meet her one of these days,” Luke jumps topics.

Noticing how my body is trembling against his, I realize that a topic switch is sorely needed. With Luke’s comforting arms around me, I regard our situation with a half smile. This is the first time I’ve opened up about my father to anyone, aside from my mother.

My dark past had always just been my best kept secret. I had always wanted to share my story when I was with Derrick, but something always prevented me from doing so. Deep down, I knew he wouldn’t be able to comprehend, empathize or bring me comfort, certainly not in the way that Luke has done this night.

“You would like her. She tried to persuade me to get back with you the day I left,” I look up into his beautiful eyes.

“Really? Then I already like her,” Luke grins, “Is your stepdad cool?"

“If you can keep up a conversation about golf, he’ll love ya,” I smirk, “Otherwise, he’ll probably just be quiet and let my mom take the lead. He lets her think she’s in-charge."
 

“I golf some, when I have the money,” Luke shrugs, “It’s kind of a rich man’s sport."
 

“Well,” I add as I sit up from leaning against Luke, “My stepdad isn’t too bad off in the money department. He and Mom have done well for themselves."

“What’s he do for a living?"

 
“He’s a boat salesman,” I say matter-of-factly, “mostly leisure craft and yacht’s now his business has grown.”

I’ve always been proud of what my stepfather has been able to accomplish just in the time he’s been with my mom. When she first met him, he worked as a manager at a restaurant. He wanted to do more, so Mom encouraged him and helped him in achieving his goals. In return, he treats her like a queen.

“Ah,” Luke’s eyes brighten, “Now yachts are something I can talk about."

“Oh?” I arch an eyebrow, “Are you a yacht man?"

“It’d be nice to have one someday,” Luke looks at me with a devious grin, “Would you sunbathe naked when I finally get around to buying one?"

“Depends."

“On?"

“If you’ll walk around naked, too,” I wink.

“I’m kind of shy,” Luke chortles.

“Mister Uber Sexy and Packed with Muscles is shy about his body?” I eye him sceptically, “I have a hard time believing that."
 

Luke pouts, “Muscled men can be self-conscious, too, ya know."
 

I arch an eyebrow, “You don’t seem to have a problem being naked when we’re rolling around in bed together."
 

“That’s different. The lights are dim or we’re under blankets."

I stare at him, quizzically. Sighing, he finally gives in under the pressure of my unhindering glare.

“Fine, I used to be a fat kid, okay?” Luke frowns, “I have some residual body image issues."

“You? A fat kid?” My eyes scan up and down his toned, far from fat body.

“Puberty worked in my favor,” Luke stares back at me with an equally firm stare, making it difficult for me not to crack a grin.

“I should say so,” I nod in approval, “And for my benefit."

Luke snorts, “Well I’m glad you enjoy it."

I rest my head against him, “I enjoy you for far more than just your body."
 

Luke plants a soft kiss on the top of my head, “I know you do, that’s why I like being around you."
 

I smile, “I like being around you, too. You know, you could always talk to my stepdad about getting a yacht. He can hook you up with a good one."
 

 
“I’ll need to go up in ranking a bit before we can talk about buying a yacht, baby."

“You’ll get there,” I brush his bicep with my fingertips, “I’ll be right here beside you."

Luke tilts my chin up, seriousness written across his handsome face, “Promise?"
 

I look up at him from underneath my eyelashes. The strange feeling I felt earlier consumes me once more. Staring into his hazel eyes, I can feel the direction that I want my future to go towards. That direction is by Luke’s side, holding his hand, always.