When I wake, it’s dark outside and I’m alone in the bed. I sit up, looking around the room, but I can’t see anything in the darkness without my glasses, “Carter,” I call quietly.
A shadowy figure comes toward the bed, “I’m here,” he says, as he sits on the side of the bed, but he doesn’t touch me.
Blinking a few times, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I can feel something’s amiss with him, he normally touches me at every opportunity. I frown, and reach for him, “What’s wrong,” I ask as my hand comes to rest on his tense shoulder.
“Sorry, couldn’t sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says.
But he’s still tense and he’s still not touching me, “How long have you been up?”
He shrugs beneath my palm, “I don’t know. You should go back to sleep though, you need it.”
I shuffle closer to him, pulling the sheet with me to cover my chilled skin, “Talk to me,” I say, wrapping my arms around his middle and resting my cheek on his back.
He sighs, “You’ve got too much to deal with already. I’m fine, go back to sleep, baby.”
My arms squeeze him tighter, “Please talk to me, did I do something wrong?” I ask. I’m all of a sudden feeling incredibly self-conscious, and that is not normal. Panic begins rising in my chest, he’s pulling away from me, shutting me out, my chest tightens. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry,” my voice breaks, as I force the words past the lump of emotion clogging my throat.
Carter turns, taking me in his strong arms, “No, baby, of course you didn’t. You’re perfect, you hear me? Perfect.”
The panic begins to recede with his touch, and my body relaxes into him, what the hell is wrong with me? This pathetic insecure girl is not me.
Carter shifts to the head of the bed, keeping me in his lap as he goes. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t want you to worry about me, okay? I just couldn’t sleep. There’s nothing to worry about.”
I shake my head, “Something is wrong, I can feel it.”
He tenses under me, “Didn’t I promise you just hours ago that you and me are solid, right before I told you that I love you as I buried my cock inside of you? I don’t know what else I can do to show you that we aren’t going to fall apart.”
He says we’re going to be okay, but he doesn’t believe his own words. And if he doesn’t believe it, why should I? Even if he does love me, and I believe he does, he doesn’t think we’re going to last.
“Okay,” I murmur as I begin to slide off his lap.
His arms tighten around me, “Where are you going?”
“The bathroom,” I mumble, and he releases me. As soon as the bathroom door is closed and locked behind me, I let the tears fall. Looking at myself in the mirror, I hate the girl looking back at me. She is broken. She is weak. She, is not me.
I’m startled by a knock at the door, “Baby, you okay in there?” Carter calls.
Looking at my reflexion one last time, I promise myself I won’t be like this forever. That it will get better, that I will get through this.
When I open the door, Carter is leaning against the frame staring down at me, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs dropping a kiss on my forehead, “I think we need to talk, My Girl,” a sad, resigned smile pulls the corner of his mouth to the side, and I know he’s going to tell me the truth about whatever is eating at him.
He leads me over to the couch, flicking a on a lamp as he passes it, then sits in the corner and pulls me down beside him wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer. “You have bigger things to deal with than my insecurity. When I told you we’re solid, I meant it. When I told you I love you, I meant it,” his lips graze my temple, “I never expected to feel this much, this fast. And I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”
Shifting so I can look at his face I ask, “Why would you lose me? You’ve been there for me through everything this last few weeks, Carter. I can’t imagine how I would have gotten through any of it without you. You’ve been my rock, my safe place, my only constant,” I tell him.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, “But,” he tries to say, but I cover his mouth with my hand.
“Let me talk first. Please?” I ask, and wait for him to nod before moving my hand. Shifting around again, I make myself comfortable by straddling his lap so I’m facing him fully, then rest my hands on his muscular shoulders. “I love you. All of you. Even the rough parts. You’ve been there for me at my worst, when my entire world is crumbling around me. No one is who I thought they were, except you.”
He searches my face in the shadows, illuminated only by the glow of the lamp. “The night you came to watch me at the gym, you left. Mase told me you were a mess. Said you bolted outside and threw up,” he winces as he recalls, “He said you were crying, and scared. He said you were scared of me.”
My hands are shaking and I don’t even know when they started. I have tried not to think about that night, I can’t handle thinking about Carter that way. Closing my eyes, I bite down on my bottom lip to stop it from trembling, as flashes of the look on Carter’s gorgeous face as he drove his fist into the other guy’s head, repeatedly rush to the forefront of my mind.
Carter’s big hands wrap around my waist, “Fighting is a big part of me. I need it, baby. I need that release. I’m afraid of who I’d become without it,” he’s breathing hard. “But knowing you were afraid of me because of it, that kills me, Chance. I need both. I need MMA, and I need you. I feel like I’m going to lose one or the other and I’m fucking terrified.”
His grip on my waist is firm, like he’s waiting for me to run again. But the genuine fear in his voice grips my heart, keeping me exactly where I am. Lifting my hand to his cheek, I smooth my thumb over his soft bottom lip, “You did scare me that night,” I admit quietly, “but I wasn’t afraid of you.”
Carter frowns, “What do you mean?”
I have to think about my next words, because I really don’t know how I feel about him fighting. I’ve been actively stopping myself from thinking about it. I don’t want to lie about my feelings on it, but I need to give him some kind of reassurance. He’s done so much for me, the least I can do is try to get used to the idea of fighting being such a big part of his life.
I lick my lips as I choose my words, “When I was growing up, my dad was always super vigilant about shielding me from violence of any kind,” a humourless laugh erupts from my chest, “I never knew why he was so anal about it. I guess I do now,” I pause as one solitary tear slides down my cheek, as I think of my brother and what he went through at the hands of our father.
Wiping it away I continue, “When you’ve never been exposed to that kind of thing, then all of a sudden you see the guy you’re in love with beating the shit out of another, it’s pretty intense. I think I went into shock, maybe? I’m not sure. But it wasn’t you per se that scared me, it was all of it. It was a lot for me to take in, and yeah, I freaked out.”
Carter’s hands haven’t left my waist, he’s still holding onto me tightly when he asks, “Are you sure you’re not afraid of me?”
I nod immediately, “Never of you, I know you would never hurt me intentionally.”
His eyes narrow, “What’s that supposed to mean? Intentionally?”
Shit, that was the wrong thing to say, “Nothing really, just that I know you wouldn’t try to hurt me. But sometimes things happen, and people get hurt.”
“Things like?” he pushes.
I shrug, trying to down play it, “Like if we were to break up for any reason, it would hurt me. I love you, Carter,” I look into his whiskey eyes and press my forehead to his, “I love you. And losing you would hurt me. No matter the reason.”
He nods and pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around my middle, moulding us together, “I love you too,” he breathes into my hair, resting his cheek on top of my head, “I love you too.”
The next morning, I wake in Carter’s bed and this time he’s right there beside me. I snuggle further into his side and hitch a leg over his thighs, getting comfortable so I can go back to sleep.
But as I close my eyes, Carter mumbles, “Good morning, My Girl.”
“Morning,” I whisper back, “Go back to sleep, I was just getting comfy,” I adjust the leg I’ve draped over his lap and my knee collides with his very impressive morning wood. “Oops, sorry,” I chuckle.
“You will be,” he grunts, as he flips over and pins me to the mattress with his gloriously naked body.
I grin up at him, “I’m pretty sure my knee sustained more damage than Thor’s Hammer down there,” I say, flicking my eyes to his erection that just so happens to be pressed into my stomach.
Carter smiles, “Thor’s Hammer?”
Nodding, I inform him with the most serious expression I can muster, “Only the most worthy can wield that thing.”
His stomach tenses as he begins laughing, and I’m mesmerised by the ripple of his abs as they contract and release. “Oh, my sexy little nerd, if anyone is worthy it’s you.”
I beam at him, “Right answer,” I tell him with a wink and he drops his mouth to mine, then proceeds to give me the best morning of my life so far.
Two more weeks pass with Carter never straying far from my side unless it’s for training. He’s virtually ditched his friends in favour of hanging around with me, Kass, Scout, and Mase, who seems to have attached himself to Scout in recent weeks.
I was granted extensions on my final papers and exams, and I was able to take them all at the start of this week. Tomorrow will be the graduation ceremony and I’m not looking forward to it at all. I tried to convince my mother it isn’t necessary to attend, which it isn’t, but she insists my father would have wanted me to go.
I know he would have, but I’m finding it really hard to care about what he would have wanted for me after finding out about his history with my brother.
A huge part of me wants to pretend I still don’t know. To just go about my days as if my Papa really was the loving man who brought me up and treated me like a princess every day of my life. But what he did to Hux, what he put him through, I don’t know how to get past that, and I’ll never get closure because he’s gone.
I wish I could confront him about it, but what would I have said anyway?
My mind is in a constant state of combat. I miss Papa, but I hate him too. I can never settle on one feeling for long enough to process it properly. As soon as I start to allow myself to miss him, I feel as though I’m betraying my brother in some way.
Scout elbows me in the ribs, “What cha’ thinkin’ about?”
I told her about the confrontation I had with my family and what they revealed, she was just as shocked as me. “I can’t get my head straight, one minute I miss him, the next I’m angry at myself for missing him,” I sigh “It’s hurting my head, literally and figuratively.”
Scout hooks an arm around my neck and pulls me into her side so I can rest my head on her shoulder, “You’re allowed to miss him, you know,” she says softly, “He was your father, Chance, and he tried to be the best one he could be for you.”
I sniffle, “I know, but that doesn’t take away everything he did to Hux, you know? It doesn’t make it better. How is it fair that I had an amazing father and Hux had a monster?” My thoughts are all over the place again and I can feel the pain in my temples amplifying, morphing from headache to migraine territory.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” Scout offers, and I accept since I didn’t bring my car anyway.
When Scout pulls up in my driveway she pauses with her hands on the steering wheel, “Chance,” she says, stopping me as I open my door, when I turn back to look at her she’s smiling sadly at me, “I don’t have a dad, but I always wished that if I did he would be like yours. He was a good man, you and your mum made him a good man. Hux wouldn’t want you to hate him for things that nobody can change.”
I digest her words, or at least try to, but this headache is getting worse by the second. “Thanks, it’s something to think about, I guess,” I mumble, before getting out of Scout’s car and walking up the drive.
“I love you!” Scout calls through the open window after me.
I turn around and flip her the bird with a huge forced smile, then let myself into the house, heading straight for the medicine cabinet and raiding it for the strongest painkillers I can find.
Five minutes later, I’m stretched out on my bed, waiting for the pills to do their job and put me out of my misery, when my phone chimes from somewhere in my room. I can’t be bothered to get up so I reach out, feeling around blindly for it, and find it on my side table. I squint at the screen, making out Carter’s name and hit call instead of going to the effort of finding my glasses so I can read his message.
He answers on the second ring, “Hey, baby, did you leave without me?”
“Yeah, Scout dropped me home, migraine,” I mumble into the receiver.
“You want me to come over?” he asks, concern etching his voice.
I flinch as a wave of nausea rolls through me, accompanied by a stabbing pain in my skull. “Nope, waiting for drugs to kick in, hopefully I’ll pass out soon,” I tell him and I’m sure he can hear the pain in my voice, even though I try to keep it from him. Another stabbing pain shoots through my temple and I roll on my side, “Gotta go, head hurts,” I mumble then hit the screen, blindly hoping I’ve hung up before running for my bathroom, only just making it to the toilet as I throw up.
Crawling back to my bed, I curl up on top of the comforter and close my eyes, drifting into a fitful sleep.