Eve
“You have all your shit ready to go?”
My skin crawls, and I want to turn around and choke Mason with my old IV tubing. “I don’t have shit, Mase. All I have is what I have on.”
It isn’t even mine. My nurse, Rose, brought me a Target bag filled with yoga pants, tank top, flip flops and a couple different sports bras. I should’ve been a little creeped out that there were even panties in the bag and strangely they were my size, but I’m too angry to be creeped. I just want the fuck out of here.
It’s only been thirty-six hours, but every hour I’ve had to endure after waking up to no Cameron has been a whirling-fucking-dervish of emotional upheaval. He hasn’t stopped by again, called, nothing. I’d call him, but my phone was snagged by that piece of shit that showed up at my house last night.
I grip my discharge papers to my chest. “I’m ready.”
He nods to the wheelchair. “The orderly will be here in any minute to wheel you down. Get in.”
“No way.”
“Come on, Eve.” Mason’s pale blue eyes are set on mine. “It’s hospital protocol. You have to.” He’s trying to be cool, but there’s a hint of that anger I saw the last time we were together that still lurks behind his eyes.
I groan and drop into the stupid thing. “Fine. This is stupid. I’m not a cripple for cryin’ out loud.”
“Damn, you’re a regular Disney Princess. Now put your feet on the foot things.”
I do what he says but make sure to slam my feet in so he knows I’m not at all happy about his sarcastic humor or having him push me around in this grown-up stroller.
As much as I appreciate Jonah working out a ride for me, after my last visit with Mase at The Blackout, I think I’d rather walk.
Where the hell is Cameron and why does it feel as if I’ve been cast aside? I thought after our talk things were better. I mean I know shit got ugly when I remembered the accident, but he was so sweet and considerate. What made him change his mind?
This guessing game I’ve been playing with men—“Does he like me? As in, like-like me?”—is getting so fucking old. Why can’t a guy just be upfront? Say what he means and mean what he says?
My inner asexual roars her return. Men can go to hell. All of ’em.
A guy wearing scrubs shows up and pushes me down the hall, and I give a small wave to the nurse’s station as we pass. Once inside the elevator, Mason rests his hand on my shoulder, and I swear if I were a dog I’d turn around and bite him.
“You hungry?” He slides his fingers behind my neck and massages the tense muscles there.
Even that kind act on his part only manages to piss off my inner-bitch even more. All I need is an invitation and I’m going to lose it. “Like you care.”
He tips his chin to look down at me. “What the fuck is up with you?”
Invitation received.
I turn to him as much as I can, considering I’m chair-bound, and grit through a tiny wave of nausea the movement causes. “What is it with men? You guys get your fucking panties in a bunch, and you’re totally justified in being complete assholes. I was in a hit-and-run accident that put my best friend and her baby in the hospital, my head feels like it’s being squeezed between The Rock’s thighs, my face looks like I was attacked by zombies, and my ribs are constantly on fire, and you want to know what the fuck is up with me?”
The orderly clears his throat and—is he laughing? I’m about to whirl around and ask him when the elevator stops and the doors slide open. Probably best since I can’t move without doubling over in pain. A couple enters, and they must sense the tension because they move as far away from us as they can in the small space.
The doors slide closed and I lean toward Mason to be heard, even though I have no intention of whispering. “You were a total dick to me at The Blackout, Mase. You didn’t see me climbing up your ass, asking you why. Show me the same courtesy.”
I expected he’d be angry at me for airing his assholeness in front of strangers, and it’s confirmed when his glare tightens. “Oh, excuse me for not jumping for joy over your new relationship status with my fucking boss. My boss who you met when you were on a date with me.” He shakes his head, looks around, and then swings his gaze back to mine. “I mean fuck. I can’t even beat his ass for the cockblock because he’s—ta-da—my boss!”
“Oh yeah, and did Frankie pull your hair and wipe a booger on your homework, Mase?” I shove my finger into his chest. “Grow the hell up!”
“So I’m good enough to take you out, but not good enough to be exclusive.”
“We went out on one date. One. And you knew. You fucking knew I wasn’t interested in you like that.”
“Oh yeah, I knew, Eve. I fucking knew because I’ve been after you for months and you don’t give me the time of day. Cam just looks at you, and you’re all over his shit.”
Is he right? I mean, yeah, Mason’s been flirting and asking me out for a while now. I turned him down a lot, not because he’s unattractive, but because . . . he’s so nice.
But Cameron. He was a dickhead the first night we met. Taking my drink, giving me shit about not buying my own drinks and I . . . Damn. I slept with him.
The elevator door pings again, and the couple scurries from the car. My head gets light and I rub my temples.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Eve.” Mason’s hand comes to the nape of my neck and rubs small but firm circles there. The elevator opens to our floor. “Let me get you home.”
I want to protest, to tell him “fuck no” and jog home to prove I don’t need him or Cameron or anyone for that matter. But shit, I’m exhausted and my head spins.
I’m wheeled out into the lobby to Mason’s waiting truck. Once inside, he turns the truck toward Jonah and Raven’s, and I drop my head back and close my eyes with the hopes of falling asleep and avoiding any more conversation with him, especially if it’s going to involve Cameron.
Thankfully, he takes my not-so-subtle hint and remains silent the entire drive. He pulls the truck up to the front door.
“Eve, listen. I’m sorry about the way I treated you at The Blackout. I’ve always been a jealous guy, and seeing you two together turned out to be harder than I thought.”
Now he’s back to sweet. Jekyll and Hyde much?
“It’s funny, you know. I always thought it would be easy to walk away from a woman who doesn’t want me. I mean why waste time on a girl who isn’t interested?” He moves his gaze from me to out the front windshield, his tan skin and sun-kissed hair making him almost look like a boy rather than the man that his biceps and bulging chest give him away to be. “Not as easy as I thought.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. I’ve always known that Mason was a good guy, but I’m starting to realize that we have more in common than I thought: pining after people who don’t want us.
“I know what you mean. If only it were that easy to turn it off.” If only we could all learn from Cameron, who doesn’t seem to have a problem shutting people out.
Specifically me.
D’lilah on the other hand . . . shit.
He nods, looks to his lap, and when he brings his eyes back to mine, he seems different: less weighed down. “Let’s get you inside.” He slides from the truck then moves around to help me out.
Yeah, he’s a good guy. And what is it about good guys that I seem to find so irritating? I mean I don’t deserve a man who’ll open doors, hold onto crushes, and be willing to piss off his own boss just because he can’t stand to see me with someone else.
Mase and I have never even kissed.
He deserves a woman who’ll be that, do all that, for him.
Once inside, I go straight to the couch while he walks through, turning on lights and checking things out. Dog, the cat, stands from his curled-up spot on the end of the couch and crawls onto my lap, purring.
“Everything looks good. You need anything before I take off?”
I shake my head, so ashamed at taking advantage of Jonah and Raven’s kindness by staying here in their home combined with the guilt of not being able to give Mason what he wants after all he’s done for me.
“Eve.”
His voice is close. I look up and he’s standing less than a foot away.
He holds his hand out. I put Dog down on the couch with minimal feline protesting and take his hand so he can help me up. Once he does, I’m in his arms, my hands holding on the back of his shirt and my cheek to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and I feel the press of his lips to the top of my head.
“Me too.” I close my eyes and absorb his comfort. I imagine for a second that it’s Cameron’s arms I’m in, his support that’s warming my insides, his lips that rest against my hair.
He pulls back, and the fantasy is ruined by his shining Cali-boy good looks. Nothing like the angry, hard edges of Cameron. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to banish the thought.
“Hey, you okay?” Mase slides his arm around my waist.
“Yeah, just tired. A little dizzy.” I blink up at him. “I think I need to lie down.”
“Yeah, of course.” He guides me back on to the couch, and I toe off my flip flops before he pulls my legs up onto the couch. “Get some sleep. I’ll leave my number by the phone. Call me if you need anything.”
I long yawn pulls at my jaw. “Okay, I will.” My eyes drift shut.
“I’ll lock the front door on my way out.”
“Mmm.”
Such a sweet guy. I should love him. I really should.
The last thing I hear is the door closing before I fall to sleep to dreams of Cameron.
~*~
Cameron
My cell rings. Jonah’s number lights my caller ID. “Slade.”
“She’s home.”
“Good.” I take a relaxing breath. I knew she was being released today, and I’d hoped the good nurse would follow through with my instructions to ensure she got to Jonah’s safely. “She get clothes and a cab?”
“Clothes yes, cab no. I had Baywatch bring her home.”
A low growl vibrates in my chest before I silence it. I have no reason to get possessive over Eve. After all, I’m the one who walked away. Hell, if I were forced to handpick a guy for her to date, I’d kill the person forcing me to pick, but in my head I’d consider Mason.
“I get why you’re doing this, man. She deserves to come first. For what it’s worth, you’re doing the right thing by walking away.”
“Yeah.” It might be right, but it feels like someone’s ripping my lungs from my chest. “How’s she doing?”
“Mase said she’s throwin’ ’tude like a damn champ, so I’m guessin’ she’s feeling good.”
Fuck. I rub my eyes and try to force back the jealousy at the thought of Eve throwin’ sass at anyone other than me.
I forced her into this situation, so I need to lie in the bed of shit I made.
“Sadie and Raven?”
He clears his throat. “Doing good. Raven’s milk came in. Sadie’s nursing. All is right with the world, ya know?”
“Any word on when they’ll be discharged?”
“Shouldn’t be long now.”
“Good news, brother. Take as long as you need. We’ll be here when you’re ready to get back to work.”
“’Preciate that, Cam.”
“Later.”
The phone disconnects, and I rub my face, hoping to extinguish the cloud of doubt that’s been following my ass around since the day I walked out of Eve’s hospital room. It doesn’t do shit except keep my hands busy so I don’t throw my phone across the room.
Eve will eventually fall for Mason. He’s a good fighter, a decent guy, and he fuckin’ loves the shit out of her. He’s a lot closer to her age and could give her the kind of life she deserves.
Me? Ha! She’d end up having to remind me of my own name. That is if I didn’t end up forgetting something that resulted in burning the damn house down. I couldn’t give her the family she deserves. Not strong enough to put a baby in her belly and watch it grow, hoping to God I didn’t do something that would . . . fuck!
This is a waste of time and not what I should be concentrating on. I have a fight coming up that I need to train for. Luckily, the board is taking over most of the promotions so I can focus on training.
I groan and lean back in my office chair. This woman has burrowed in deep, ripping through my insides and making a permanent mark on my fucking soul.
Did I make a mistake by walking away? If Mason makes his move, I’ll rip his throat out. No. Dammit.
My phone vibrates on my desk, a welcome distraction to the direction of my thoughts. “Yeah?”
Throat clearing. “Cam?”
I close my eyes as disappointment washes over me. “’Li, what’s up?”
“I know you don’t want to talk to me, but Ryder just told me you’re . . . Are you . . . ? I mean you’re not returning to the octagon to fight Rusty, are you?”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“He challenged. I accepted.”
A few seconds of silence pass between us, and I have a feeling she’s trying to formulate a response that won’t piss me the fuck off.
“But you don’t fight anymore.”
“I’ve never stopped training, ’Li. Fighting’s my life.”
“Your life. Right. Are you, um . . .?”
Fuckin’ hell. “’Li, you got something to say?”
“I don’t want you fighting.”
“You’re not my wife anymore, so you don’t get a say in what I do. Ever.”
“But Ryder—”
“Is a grown man. I’ll always be there for my boy, but he doesn’t get a say either.”
“Rosie—”
“Stop right there.”
“Cam—”
“No, you don’t get to throw her in my face, D’lilah. Not anymore.”
I’m met with silence.
“I’m fighting Rusty. You can be supportive, or you can mind your own damn business. I gave up everything the day I left the UFL. I did it with the hope that I could take care of you, of Ryder. Make amends for my fucked-up head. Realized last night that nothing I do will make you better, bring her back.”
“You’re giving up on me?”
“It’s been fourteen years. Ryder’s grown up and off to college soon; you’re worse off than ever. Nothing I do is fucking working.”
“I’ll try harder—”
“No, I’m taking the fight. I need this. For me.”
“So that’s it.”
“’Fraid so.”
“Don’t expect my support.”
Is she fucking kidding me? I’ve been wiping puke off her face, paying for her to live in a house that’s ten times too big, supported her through multiple stints in rehab. Hell, I left the only woman I’ve ever really cared about alone at a restaurant and vulnerable to a loan shark so I could chase after D’lilah’s drunk ass.
Heat roils in my gut. I grip my cell tighter to stop the tremors that wrack my hands. As if light is shining on my situation for the first time, everything seems so clear. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not helping D’lilah get better; I’m only supporting her getting worse.
“This is over.” I bite back fourteen years of rage that fights to spill from my lips on impulse.
“What’s over?”
“You’ve got three months. Sober up, get your shit together, and move on.”
“Okay, fine.”
“No, you don’t get it. I’m selling the house in three months, ’Li.”
“But—”
“You’ve got twenty-eight days to get sober and another two months to get a job and find a place to live. I’ll help you until then, but at the end of three months, the house goes on the market and I walk away.”
“Cam—”
“Non-negotiable.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“I’d get lookin’ for a rehab facility. Fast. You want my suggestion? Call Raven’s Nest. They have people you can talk to who’ll be able to point you in the right direction.”
“Raven’s what? Wait, why are you doing this?” The panic in her voice is palpable.
“Because you’ve done nothing but suck the fucking life out of me, D’lilah, and I let you. I offered it to you with open hands and you took. Now I’m done. I have nothing left for you. Three months, ’Li, and you’re on your own.”
I hang up the phone at the sound of her muffled sobs. She’ll cry, turn to the bottle, get blitzed, and then call me back to lay into me and remind me of all the ways I’ve failed her. Running on an endless loop since forever, we’ve tortured each other by allowing this shit to continue. Ryder being thrown in the middle, he’s now a casualty of this disgusting war we’ve waged against ourselves: both of us grinding through the self-torture as a way to pay penance.
I never saw it clearly before. Sometimes it takes losing someone to put life into perspective. Sort out priorities.
I’ve lost close to everything I ever loved, and I’m only now seeing shit for what it really is: a series of tragic mistakes that have ruined lives.
And I’ve had the power to put an end to it all.