After a week of staring at the walls in my apartment and showering with my arm wrapped in a plastic bag, I’d had just about enough.

Callie was everywhere I turned. She was the woman in the line in front of me at the supermarket. She was the woman I passed on the street. She was the woman inside a shop I passed. She was the woman at the gym. She was the woman in my dreams.

Fucking hell.

I’d messed up, and this time, despite trying my hardest, I cared. I actually cared, and to make matters worse, I didn’t know what to do about it. I couldn’t fight, I was limited to what I could do at the gym, I couldn’t ride my motorcycle, I couldn’t do anything. I’d even taken to avoiding Callie’s shop after I’d walked past the other day and saw a notice pinned to the window. The opening was in three weeks.

I was on my last legs. Grabbing my keys and jacket, I slammed the front door closed and strode out into the crisp autumn air. The sun was shining, but heavy gray clouds loomed in the distance. Throwing my coat on, I draped it over my left shoulder. I was still unable to wear it properly because of my cast and cursed every time it slid off.

Walking down Brunswick Street, I weaved through slow walkers and powered toward the city. When I reached Victoria Parade, instead of heading toward the CBD, I turned left. I walked and walked, not knowing where I was going, but my feet seemed to know the destination.

What was I supposed to do now? Losing Callie had hurt more than I knew it would, and everything after her seemed pointless. I couldn’t fight for at least another five weeks, I had no job prospects, no friends, no nothing. Where could I go? There was nobody who would listen to a washed-up arrogant son of a bitch like me. No one.

It took me the best part of an hour to walk from Fitzroy to Abbotsford. That was when I realized where my subconscious had led me. Pulse Fitness. My ex, Lori, worked there. I wasn’t sure if it was suffering from some kind of insane desperation or I was looking to prod at an open wound, but the death wish in me was strong today.

Pulse Fitness was like a mecca for fighters, but it was a heaven I was barred from. I wasn’t welcome here, and I knew it. I felt like I was knocking on the Pearly Gates, knowing the bouncers would come out at any moment and haul me back to the bowels of Hell where I belonged. Still, I was a moron in all senses of the word, so I stepped into the foyer.

I couldn’t go any further without a security tag, so I lingered like a desperate hanger-on. Staring through the window into the gym, I saw some familiar faces and curled my lip. Hamish fucking McBride was everywhere. He was going hard with some weights while in the background, I could see some fighters from the AUFC.

It was just another place I didn’t belong, and standing here made it even clearer. Mark Ryder, always on the outside looking in like a worthless piece of shit. They always told stories about your downfall but never about the bit that came after. The nothing.

I shouldn’t have come here.

Turning, I stumbled slightly as I came face-to-face with Lori Walker. The stunning, blue haired, tattooed knockout I was foolish enough to cheat on. And foolish enough to come and see.

She looked really good. Her hair was still her trademark shade of cobalt, and I wondered if all her towels were still stained. It looked cool, but the dye used to rub off on everything, not to mention the bottom of the shower. Her arms seemed more colorful than I remembered. Had she gotten more tattoos to add to her collection?

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, staring me right in the eye.

She was pissed and had every right to be. In a moment of desperation, I’d broken my promise, and my hole just got deeper and deeper.

When I didn’t reply, she rolled her eyes. “If you’re here for money, I don’t have any. And if you’re here for sex, you can forget about your balls because I’ve got a dozen fighters in there that’ll rip them off before you even get close.”

“No, it’s not like that…” I scowled and shook my head. Forever making mistakes. Turning, I muttered, “Forget about it.”

“Wait, Storm…”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, reaching for the door.

“Storm.”

I glanced at Lori over my shoulder. I was such a bastard even when I was trying to do the right thing. I had nobody, and whose fault was that? Mine.

“What’s wrong?” Her gaze fell on my arm and back up again.

I did what I did best and remained silent. That way, my mouth wouldn’t get me into trouble.

“You broke your arm,” she stated as I turned to face her.

“Hamish took me to the hospital,” I said. When her eyes narrowed, I snorted. “He didn’t tell you.”

“No.”

“I’m not surprised,” I drawled, falling back on old habits. “Ginger always knows how to play his cards.”

“Stop it,” Lori said, snarling. “Just stop it, Storm.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop covering up your pain like that.” She shook her head. “It’s not helping anyone.”

“So?”

“So?” she scoffed. “That’s a flat-out lie, and you know it. You wouldn’t have come here if… Why did you come here?”

I shrugged. I was beginning to wonder myself.

“Does it have something to do with that fire?” She watched my reaction closely, and when I scowled, she added, “It must be hard having all that shit dragged up again. I’m sorry.”

“What? You’re not going to accuse me of staging it?” I cradled my arm against my stomach. “I could have used it to get back into the UFC’s good graces or at least tried for the AUFC.”

“The two most important words in that tirade was could have.”

Lori sighed, pushing a strand of blue hair behind her ear. Just like Callie did. At the thought of her, my pain seemed to intensify. My arm throbbed, and I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. I stared at Lori as the foyer seemed to shrink, and the noise from the gym dulled.

“This is about something more, isn’t it?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

I didn’t say anything.

“You know, it’s infuriating when you do that.”

“So I’m told,” I drawled.

“What’s happened to you?” she murmured. “When you came to see me that day… When you told me the truth…” She sighed and glanced away. “I thought you would be okay, but it seems like the opposite happened.”

“I suppose it did.”

“That woman in America…” she said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course, it does,” she exclaimed. “The woman you saved from the fire…”

“Don’t,” I snapped.

“You care about her, don’t you?”

“I said don’t.” My hackles rose, and I felt like storming out of there and never coming back, but I was stuck to the spot. Maybe deep down, I wanted her help, and that was why I came here in the first place. Or maybe I wanted to see what her life was like after dumping me because that would be Callie…getting on with shit without me. Her life was better without me in it.

“You know, I can read you like an open book,” Lori stated. “She found out before you could tell her, and you didn’t stick up for yourself. You’re still punishing yourself for no good reason. You’ve isolated yourself, and for what? Yeah, you hurt me, but you made amends. I forgave you. And that other thing… It wasn’t your fault.” She took a step closer and inspected the cast on my arm. “You made mistakes, Storm. You’re human. The difference now? You know you did, and you made up for it, but pushing everyone away, being hostile and believing you’re the bad guy? You’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” I said, my throat tight.

“Fuck, you’re such a dumbass,” she cursed. “You deserve to be happy, Storm. If you care about her, go tell her the truth. Fight.”

I stared at her, not believing the shit that was coming out of her mouth. After the awful things I’d done to her, here she was telling me I deserved to be loved? She was on crack.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, turning toward the door. “I’m sorry I broke my promise.”

“Storm!”

She called out after me, but I didn’t want to hear any more bullshit. I was done. I had to forget about Lori Walker, Callie Winslow, and whoever else wanted on the list. I had to forget and move on. Maybe I should move to another city, but what would I do for money, then? Oh, yeah, with my newfound hero title, finding work would be a breeze. What would Callie say about me, then? I won’t be anyone’s stepping-stone.

I stormed outside and kept walking. Lori didn’t follow.

I deserved to be loved? Fat fucking chance.