Wicked Bad Boys (95 page)

F
uck
.

She was crying again.

I don’t know what the hell I said, but it set her off.

Again.

Shit.

“God, please don’t cry, Amanda,” I said, panicking. “What’s wrong? What did I say? I can call someone to help…the nurse maybe?” I wrapped my arms around her, trying to be strong, but was certain I had the familiar look of terror in my eyes—the powerless, exasperated expression that appeared on most men’s faces when a woman cried.

“Here.” I reached over to the small night stand and passed her the box of tissues.

I rubbed her back, and I waited.

When she calmed down, and the shaking and tears stopped, I wasn’t sure whether to ask her what was going on. This could have been a delayed reaction to the trauma of being sliced open. Somehow, I didn’t think it was.

I brought over the cup of water the nurse had left on a tray near her bed. I cradled her head and put it at her lips for a sip—something that was difficult enough to do for anyone positioned on their side.

“Are you all right?” I asked, still somewhat terrified.

“Yes. Fine. I’m sorry about that. I had a moment…”

“Don’t be sorry. Can I get you anything else?”

“No. Thanks, Johnny.”

I sat beside her in the bed and waited some more.

“I think I owe you an explanation,” she said out of the blue, between sniffles.

“There’s no need to explain. Look at what you’ve been through.”

“No. It’s not that. And you deserve to know, especially after sitting through this…this train wreck of a breakdown. I think I’m ready to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“Until now, I’ve told you almost every horrible experience I’ve gone through. You’ve been amazing to me, Johnny. Supportive, understanding, never judging me…This is something I had not told anyone since it happened—not even my best friend Eva. I mean, she knows the sound bite I had dismissively told the few people in my inner circle, but no one knew exactly what happened. No one but me…and this other person.”

“Who?”

I took a breath. “What you said reminded me about something that happened when I was out of surgery after the big MMA loss.”

He held my hand. “You know you can tell me anything, Amanda.”

“Okay…I was engaged. Right up to that night.”

What? Engaged?

I looked at her, stunned, not so much about her being engaged, but on how the hell that detail never came up on all her social media pages that I trolled as stonefaceviper79.

“Only a handful of people knew about it. Adam and I…Adam is his name …we had dated since college. He didn’t want any public or media attention on himself or us, so we kept our relationship private when my name started to get out there. We were together for over four years, and engaged for ten months. I thought we had the perfect relationship, you know? He had his thing, I had mine. He didn’t mind that I was a fighter and had to travel for competitions, mostly without him because of his job. We enjoyed being together, yet being apart was manageable.”

“So what happened?”

“He had just received a promotion in Miami. It was the week before my fight, which was in Las Vegas. So when I was injured, he couldn’t be there for me…”

What a jerk. He had this woman, and he let her go through the worst time of her life alone? “He was an asshole,” I told her.

“That’s not the worst of it.”

What else did that piece of shit do to her?

“I had to tell him I could never have kids over the phone. It was horrible. He cried, but he wasn’t crying for me. Adam’s from a big family. He wanted kids. It was all he ever talked about once we got engaged…When I told him, he cried because not being able to have kids with me was a tragedy…it meant he could not marry me. Adam ended our engagement on that phone call.”

Fuck. I could shove my boot up that fucking prick’s ass right now. A man couldn’t be any lower than that.

“Christ, Amanda. You didn’t deserve to be hurt that way… that guy is scum if he could do something like that to you…to anyone. You’re better off without him.”

She shrugged. “He really wanted kids.”

“More than he cared about you? I can’t even try to understand someone that cold. It’s just a gutless thing to do.”

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Then I looked at her, lying in that bed—it reminded me she didn’t need any more stress. I lowered to the bed, and held her.

“Forget about that bastard. I’m here for you now, and I’m not letting you out of my sight. Try to rest, okay?”

She did not take very long to fall asleep. When she did, I opened the sofa-bed, took my boots off, and settled in for the night. As I relaxed there, all of the pieces about Amanda fell into place. It all made sense. Fuck, she had been through so much. She was so strong in spite of all of it. There was a lot to appreciate about her.

I looked over at her for as long as my eyes stayed open. She was mine. I was going to keep her safe.

T
he trip
back home the next day was hassle-free. Amanda was driven back in the medical transport, and two SUVs with security staff, Fred and me followed behind. We even managed to make it back before Kevin and the group, as they were on a noon return flight. I phoned ahead to the housekeeper, who prepared one of the main floor guest rooms for Amanda to stay in. I also made an appointment with a home health supply store to come to the house to fit her with crutches.

The RHVA awards show was three days away. Kevin was back on my case that my performance had to come off without a hitch. I couldn’t afford another disaster. Yet with Amanda out of commission, I refused to leave her alone.

The minute Kevin walked in the door, he got into it. “A second-rate act is not an option, Johnny,” he said after he called me into his office. “This is the RHVAs. You may not get invited back for years with a good performance, and if you bomb, forget about ever returning. Plus, you will have done it in front of up to sixty million viewers worldwide. We have to get it right. I’m adding two extra full band rehearsals to the schedule, and that doesn’t include the choreography practices with the backup dancers.”

“I can’t leave Amanda on her own…not at a time like this.”

“She’s not five, Johnny. She can handle bedrest. The housekeeper can keep an eye on her.”

“Lucia’s busy enough as it is. Keeping this house in order and preparing meals is a lot. That idea’s not enough.”

“We’ve got three days to get this right, Johnny. How about if we get her a nurse or someone full time until she’s back on her feet?”

“You can bring in a nurse, but that’s still not going to cut it. Amanda’s three thousand miles from home, and has no one else in this town. What do you expect me to do!”

“Jesus H Christ, Johnny. Can’t she phone a friend or something? You need to hit the RHVAs act out of the park. It’s the biggest performance of your career to date. You have to be perfect. Every note, every lyric, every choreographed movement has to be dead on. It’s crucial—”

“Wait a second…wait, I have an idea. Can we have all the rehearsals here at the house?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Okay. I’ll do it. Go ahead and set it up. I’ve got to take care of something. Definitely get her a nurse.”

I left Kevin’s office and headed to see Amanda. While I was checking up on her, I managed to sneak her phone off the night stand. I don’t think she noticed it, and I returned it to the same spot less than five minutes later.

She was overdue for another gift from me. I just hoped she would like this one.

M
y trip
back to LA yesterday was better than I had expected. Johnny was a dream. I could not ask for a more attentive, kind person in my corner. He popped in every few hours to check up on me, and had even rolled in a single bed from one of the other rooms so he could sleep near me at night.

Being bed-ridden however, was another story.

It was only the second day in bed with my tablet, daytime TV and way too much satellite programming as entertainment. I was going insane. It also meant I was three or four days away from going back home. We still didn’t talk about it, and at the moment, I had subconsciously done a full 180-degree flip.

I didn’t want to go back to Miami anymore.

I couldn’t handle another day feeling so stuck in the same space, as well as in limbo with Johnny.

Thoughts, emotions, insecurities and questions kept my mind occupied while my body was incapacitated. The noise more than compensated for the physical boredom my muscles felt, and soon, I was full of doubt again. Would he want me now that he knew everything? Was a month really enough time to make such a big decision? Could I just be caught up in his lifestyle, like all his groupies? Was he even going to have time for me after the tour?

In an attempt to drown out the doubt, first I tried to make myself busy. I went into my emails and checked messages on my tablet. I noticed two from Gary, both saying to phone him asap. I tried phoning him right away, but it went to voicemail. Nothing else was on email, but my phone had dozens of unread texts and unheard voicemail messages. Media hounds. I wasn’t ready to tackle them all, so I set the phone aside.

Next, to prepare for the worst, I imagined what it would feel like to leave LA, fly home to Miami, and walk through the front door of my own apartment. It offered some comfort, and a backup plan if I was getting ahead of myself. I picture standing at Johnny’s door with my bags, looking inside his house one last time. When the car would leave, I’d look back and see Johnny standing at the bottom of the steps. He would wave goodbye to me for the last time. My flight would be logistically smooth, but emotionally, I would be a wreck.

I imagined making it to Miami, taking a cab home, and hauling my luggage up to my apartment. I would stand at the entrance, silent, to shake off the memory of life in LA, and get back to the familiar and pray that good old-fashioned creature comfort would help me snap out of it. Everything would be in the exact place I had left them, including my fish and the picture of Dad at my bedside. The tension in my chest would melt away, only to be replaced with hours of crying and heaving until I would fall asleep.

That was the thing—no kind of imagining would make it any easier.

A
t around midday
, the day nurse Kevin had hired brought me a light lunch, and told me she would leave the door open as she wanted to be sure she could hear me if I needed help. I was fine with it.

After I ate, I heard a knock at my open door.

“Come in,” I said.

The person jumped through the threshold like they were on Broadway, complete with the jazz hands.

It was my friend, Eva!

I couldn’t believe it!

“Omigod, omigod! Eva? How did you…what the…get your ass over here and give me a hug, bestie! It’s so good to see you!”

She squealed all the way across the room and jumped into bed beside me for a cuddle.

“There’s the little wounded warrior,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Bored. Crappy. Forget about that, though. How did you make it out here?” I asked, hugging her again. I was pretty certain Johnny had something to do with it.

“Your rock star god of a husband-to-be phoned me yesterday. Don’t ask me how he got my number, because I don’t have a clue. Enough about that, though. I want to know about you! I saw the photos of you on the floor in a pool of blood. I was terrified, honey.” She hugged me again.

“As you can see, I’m still alive. I’m tough as nails, girl. I’ll only have a tiny scar on the back of my leg when I’m better.”

“That’s great. I had no idea what to expect. Did you talk to your mom? She’s frantic.”

“Pffft. Yeah right.”

“You should call her. Anyway, before I get ahead of myself, I got you something. Hang on.”

She left the room and returned with something behind her back.

“Tell me you brought me cookies from Gilly’s Bakery, Eva. I’m craving sugar.”

“Of course I did. It’s in the kitchen. I’ll bring you the box in a minute, but the surprise is something else.”

“Show me.”

“I had to go to your place for it, but…”

She slowly moved her hand from behind her back. It was the portrait of my dad.

“Awww. Girl you’re so sweet for bringing it. I missed it like crazy. Oh, yes. Remind me to show you the locket Johnny gave me. He had a picture of dad made to fit inside.”

“How sweet! You’re lucky, girl. He seemed like such a nice guy from the phone call. I’ll get to meet him! How freaking awesome is that! Wait. I’ll get to meet him, right? He does live here, so someone better put ‘meet Eva’ in his schedule.”

I laughed and placed the framed photo of dad on my night stand. “You’ll meet him. Just don’t start acting like a fan girl or I’ll have to tackle you too.”

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try. There’s one more thing I got you! Two actually.”

“What?”

“Wait a minute. I’ll get it.”

She was gone for much longer this time. When she returned, she shouted from outside the door where I couldn’t see her. “Ready, Amanda?”

“Yes. What is it?”

I couldn’t believe it. She wheeled in a mid-sized aquarium filled with water. Trevor and Lulu were inside.

“Oh goodness! My babies! Bring them over here. I’ve missed you two so much!”

She wheeled it to the side of the bed I was facing at the moment.

“How did you get them here?” I asked, staring into the tank.

“Easy as pie when money is no object, darling,” she said, giggling. “No really. I put them in breathable travel bags for fish yesterday, and sent them ahead with the airport pet service. It was pretty simple.”

“I don’t even know how to thank you, Eva.”

“It wasn’t my idea. You can thank Johnny for that too.”

“Really?” I was gushing. “God, he’s been so kind to me, Eva.”

“You deserve it. I’m glad you gave him a chance. Otherwise I’d have to secretly schedule a commitment-phobe intervention, and put you in the hot seat.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“So tell me, missy, what time are we going out for drinks? First round is on me!”

Eva was a PR genius and seemed to have more money than there were designer shoes to buy. She always picked up the tab, so her offer was more of a running joke than anything. I rarely let myself go crazy with a credit card. Eva, on the other hand, lived to shop. We made an odd set of friends. Her life was glamour, fashion, and parties—while I tended to avoid those things for the most part. As part of her job, she kept one perfectly manicured finger on the pulse of the celeb scene, so it was no surprise she had figured out about me posing as Johnny’s girlfriend back when she did. She was going to shine during her time here in LA, drinking or not.

I laughed at her eager question. “I’m stuck in bed for another day, Eva. After that, I can’t drive, stand or sit on my ass for a few more days. I doubt alcohol will help me get better.”

“When can we go, then?”

“How long are you staying?”

“As long as you need me. I told my boss he could handle things for a week or so.”

“Okay. So as soon as I’m moving around a bit, the three of us can go. You don’t mind if Johnny comes with us, do you?”

“Hell no. I put up with Adam, didn’t I? After his uptight ass, everyone else will be a breeze.”

“Okay. So we’ll go out for drinks then.”

“Excellent. When can I go for a walk? I did some Googling of the celebrities who live around here. The Rock is only three blocks down the hill. I am so gonna run back and forth in front of his gate wearing a bustier, stilettos and Daisy Duke’s.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. “I don’t know about your Dwayne Johnson shenanigans, honey. If you want to go out, I’ll need to see whether we’re still on lockdown from the stalker. I’ll ask Fred or Larry.”

“Wait. What lockdown? And who’s Fred and Larry? Are they cute?”

“They’re FBI.” She just looked at me. “Yes. Welcome to the Twilight zone, Eva.”

W
hile Eva
and I were catching up in my bed, I got a call back from Gary. I had a guess about what was so urgent—striking while the media frenzy was hot. In the spirit of moving on with my life, possibly without Johnny, I was eager to find out.

“Amanda! Good Lord, it’s been forever!” He greeted me.

“Hi Gary.” I smiled, energized by the excitement in his voice. I had not seen him in a long time. He would be one more familiar face to keep me grounded if I returned to Miami. The more reminders I gave myself, the less the sting would be if leaving LA became a reality.

“So, tell me, where on earth have you been hiding?”

I sighed. “Don’t give me that, Gary. Kevin told me he phoned you and you had a long conversation.”

“I was giving you a chance to tell me, Roxy. Or should I call you Rachel the rock star girlfriend hero now?” He teased.

“You’re right. I should have told you.”

“Damn straight. Anyway, I’m glad things have been hopping, but how are you feeling? That picture of you the media’s been blitzing looks like you may have been clinging to life.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be good as new in a few days.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“So what’s going on?”

“How soon can you be up and ready for a face-to-face meeting?”

“I’d say about a week. I haven’t been cleared to fly yet, though.”

“Not a problem, because I may need you to stay put in LA.”

My heart started to race, double time. “What? Why?”

“Well, you want to meet the producers for
Tough Sports Live.
They sponsor and host the MMA show we were talking about. If you’re still interested, you’ll need to go to their studio, within the week.”

“Just for the interview?” I asked, silently pleading he would say no.

“Not quite. There’s some travel involved, as you’ll be on the MMA circuit. They want you stationed in LA and Las Vegas, with travel across continental USA. Would that be a problem?”

A job out here would mean I could find my own place and get to know Johnny better. Who was I kidding? He made it clear he wanted me here, in his house, in his bed. No matter the outcome, at least the job in LA would make it easier to spend time together.

“It sounds perfect.”

“Excellent. Although, there’s already been a few other promising leads since that person slashed and trashed you in San Diego.”

“Like what?”

“You name it, it’s on the table. An exposé on Johnny, an exclusive with the two of you, heck, someone called today about a biopic. They all want you, and they want the story now. For big money, too. You know the game. Take it when it comes, right?”

“Yeah. I know it, except I’m not interested in doing anything that puts Johnny under the microscope. He’s got enough of that.”

“I hear you. I think you should meet the producers in LA in a week, and if anything better comes up, I’ll call you.”

“I agree, Gary.”

“Great. I’ll make some calls and get back to you. Take care of that stab wound, Amanda.”

“Bye Gary.”

It seemed that the odds were back in my favor again. Now it was just a matter of getting to that interview, and talking to Johnny about everything.

Unless he raised it first.

Ideally, I was hoping for the latter.

Until then, everything that mattered was already here in LA.