Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel (12 page)

“You ready to meet some cool people, Bethy?” I ask my daughter, sitting with her and Josette in Garrett and Rian’s driveway.

“Do they have a kid with toys?”

“They have a little boy a few years older than you,” I respond, watching her scrunch up her face in disgust in the rearview mirror.

“He’s going to have boy toys,” she states matter-of-factly.

“Probably, but he’s got some cool Legos,” I offer, and she nods her head in agreement.

Getting out of the car, all three of us walk up the pathway, Bethany between Josette and me, swinging like a monkey. I don’t get the chance to knock on the door, because a very exhausted yet still beautiful Rian opens the door and all but charges me.

“I’ve missed you,” she mumbles with her face buried in my shirt.

“I’ve missed you too, Ri.” I chuckle, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and squeezing.

Pulling away, Rian looks at Josette and tears spring to her eyes. “You should have told me,” she kindly scolds. “I could have helped you.”

“I know,” Josette says through a sniffle and the women lock in an embrace to rival the one I received when Rian and Garrett picked me up from the airport when I came back from Vegas.

“Well, get in here and introduce me to this beautiful lady.” Rian ushers us through the door and into the living room where Garrett’s in his favorite spot and Greg’s playing with Legos—as expected—on the floor.

“My name’s Bethany.” Her smile lights up the entire room—even little Greg takes notice.

“Well, Bethany, I’m Rian and this is my husband, Garrett, and son, Gregory. It’s very lovely to meet you, sweetheart.”

Bethany walks around the room, shaking everyone’s hand like a polite politician. When she makes her way back to Josette and me, she grabs on to Josette’s hand and hugs my leg, then looks up at the pair of us. “See, they’re Gregory’s mommy and daddy and they’re married.”

“Yes, they are.” Josette giggles.

“So you and Daddy need to get married,” Bethany urges and the entire room, except the kids, bursts out in a fit of laughter.

“This is getting good,” Garrett chuckles and I can only shake my head. Bethany and her obsession with marriage. Not that it’s a bad idea, but a tad bit premature.

The rest of the evening goes as expected—Garrett grills me on being a dad and when he can take me shopping to get an engagement ring for Josette, Rian gushes over Bethany and talks about how excited she is about having a little girl, Bethany and Gregory pass out sprawled across a minefield of Legos, and finally, the Josette I knew all those years ago surfaces, chatting with friends animatedly and talking about all the things we’ve all missed. All in all, the night is damn near perfect, until I have to drop Josette and Bethany off at home. All I want to do is stay. And again, another night goes by without an invitation to see if we still have a shot, not that I expected anything different.

“You don’t have anyone to watch her for a few hours?” I ask Josette over the phone, desperately wanting her to come to my fight tonight, but knowing there’s no way in hell Bethany should be there.

“No, sorry. My usual sitter’s busy tonight and everyone else I know is going to be there.”

“Fuck,” I growl. “I get it, but damn, I really wanted you to be there. Good luck charm and all.”

“I know. Next time, promise,” she offers. “But remember all those fights in Vegas, I wasn’t there and you’re still undefeated. This one’s no different. You’re going to do great, Cutter. I believe in you.”

“All right. I gotta get going. Garrett’s meeting me at the venue in about thirty and I’m not even dressed. Rian will keep you up to date on all that’s going on, okay?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll make sure my phone’s charged. Give ’em hell, ’kay?”

“You already know.” I know damn well I’m taking this guy to the ground, hard and fast. Garrett was right when I got back from Vegas, and he was convinced that I wasn’t going back…There’s no way I can stay away from Bethany and Josette. I needed a way to work through the demons that could turn to resentment, especially if I’m going to be worth a damn to Bethany. I’ve found a way to channel the anger and frustration, while keeping in shape, and the purse on this fight’s going to be enough to pay Bethany’s daycare tuition for the rest of the year. I’m more than ready.

And I’m fucking frustrated. Every minute I’ve spent with Josette that I’m not inside her has driven me insane. Remembering how she feels, how she moves beneath me, the soft cries of pleasure that slip past her lips when she’s in the zone…every fucking memory, especially when she prances around in those form-fitting floor-length dresses, showing off every damn curve on her petite frame, and the weight she’s gained in all the right places….There’s no doubt in my mind she’d feel even better now than she did before. And I get none of it. Not a single ounce.

I quickly throw on a pair of sweats, pull on a hoodie, and fly out the door. I make it to the venue across town in record time, and I’ve barely put the car in park when I’m running toward the back doors, where Garrett’s waiting with Rian to help get me ready. Back in the locker room, Garrett wraps my hands while Rian goes on and on about how I’m going to kick this guy’s ass.

Roger, one of the other guys from the gym, shows up to run through some drills with me, since I have about forty-five minutes or so until my fight is scheduled, depending on how the others go. We take advantage of every second we have together, since I’ve only had two weeks to prep for this fight. With each blow landed, my confidence boosts more than the last. Each time I duck and avoid getting socked, I feel more and more in control. Each time Garrett smiles and nods at every maneuver, I can feel his pride seep through my pores, which soak all of it up.

I’m ready.

“All right, the last fight just ended,” Garrett says. “They’re calling a quick intermission, maybe five or ten minutes. Get it ready, pump up, and we’re on.” Garrett pushes everyone out of the room so I can get in the zone. Swinging my hands in the air at an imaginary opponent, I visualize every hit and how I’m going to react to a counterattack, but something’s missing.

“What are you, new?” I ask myself, finally remembering my old trick for getting ready for fights. My music. I need to get myself hyped, and the only way to do that is the perfect song. Going back to my roots, I know exactly what I want: The Struts…just like my first fight. If it worked before, it’s got to work now.

I reach in my gym bag for my phone, and the first thing I see is the notification light blinking rapidly. The notifications are most likely from social media wishing me luck on this fight, and I need to get through “Could Have Been Me” at least once before I hit the floor, so I unlock the screen to delete them. But the notifications aren’t generic—they’re messages for help.

More than a dozen missed calls from Josette, a few voicemails, and twenty unread text messages.

Josette:
You there?

Josette:
I need you, Cutter.

Josette:
Where are you?

Josette:
It’s important. Call me right away.

Josette:
Isn’t this fucking great.

Josette:
I’m taking Bethany to Lexington General. Can’t break her fever.

Josette:
We’re in Room 103. They’re admitting her.

Josette:
Running tests now. They’re not sure what’s going on with her.

Josette:
She’s asking for you.

Josette:
They’re packing her in ice to help reduce the fever. Call me please.

Panic rises in my chest as I read through the texts. I start to open the voicemail app as Garrett comes through the door.

“Time to go, kid. You ready?” he asks.

“No. I gotta go. Bethany’s in the hospital.” I start throwing all my shit into my bag and putting on my street clothes right over the top of my board shorts.

“What’s going on? She okay? Cutter, talk to me, kid. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on,” he begs, but the only thing I can think of is the quickest route to the hospital and how my girl’s doing. She’s all that matters.

“He’s been out of the scene for a while, but the lethal kid’s back. Get on your feet and show some love for the hometown hero, Cutter ‘the Butcher’ Greeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrr,” the MC announces, and I glance up to Garrett, silently asking for his help.

“You go, I’ve got this. What hospital?”

“Lexington General.”

“Okay. I’ll pull the card, explain what’s going on, and see about fixing a rematch. You get to Bethany and text me as soon as you know what’s going on.” He stares at me for a second before his voice booms, breaking through all the worst-case scenarios. “Get out of here!” he yells.

“Okay,” I whisper, gathering my thoughts. “Okay. See you soon.” I finally walk out of the building. As soon as I’m in the car, I try calling Josette but her phone’s going straight to voicemail. Tossing my phone on the passenger seat, I hit the highway quickly and fly down the few exits to the one marked for the hospital, refusing to stop at red lights, my only thoughts on the sweet angel lying in a hospital bed asking for her daddy, who isn’t there. The idea alone has me choked up.

Instead of searching for a parking spot, I whip into the Emergency Room loop for drop-offs and pickups and exit the car. Spotting a valet, I toss him my keys and rush through the doors. When I catch a triage nurse, I demand she tell me how to get to my daughter.

“Bethany Greer.” I give her the name—my name—and I’m surging with pride but distraught with worry at the same time. What the hell could be going on with her that she has to go to the hospital in the middle of the night? She seemed fine earlier.

“Come with me, sir,” the kind nurse says, and briskly begins walking down hallways, around corners, and more and more corridors until she reaches the PICU. I nearly fall to my knees just reading the sign. Pediatric Intensive Care is no joke. Whatever’s going on has to be serious for them to admit her, let alone admit her to the PICU.

The nurse buzzes me into the unit and directs me to the nurse’s station to get a badge. I almost start walking room to room until I find Bethany, but my badge prints quickly and I’m sent down one hallway with directions to turn left and then find the first door on the right. Doing exactly as I was told, I pause before entering the room where Bethany’s name is written on the dry erase board next to the door. Taking a few deep breaths, I prepare myself to handle whatever’s on the other side and be there to support Josette, then swallow down my fears and surge through the door.

The first thing I see inside is Bethany’s smiling face. “Daddy, you came!” she excitedly yells.

“Heard we were having a party,” I say to lighten the mood. They’ve got my girl hooked up to an IV in one arm, monitors on the other, and ice packs on almost all of her body, and yet she’s still in good spirits. That’s my girl. Always looking on the bright side and making the best of any situation.

Glancing around the room to check on Josette and how she’s holding up, I about lose my shit when I see her sitting off in the corner, underneath a TV playing
Doc McStuffins
…with Colt. Of all the fucking people she could have called to come while she was waiting on me, she chose that smug bastard.

“The fuck is this?” I whisper so I don’t upset Bethany, but I’m almost to the point where I’ll be unable to control my emotions.

“Cutter,” Josette warns, standing up and placing her palm on my chest, pushing me backward slightly. “I needed a friend until you could get here. I wasn’t sure when your fight ended and I needed a little support to keep me from passing out.”

I ignore Josette and flatly tell Colt, “Well, I’m here now, you can go.”

“Josette?” he questions. “I can stay if you want.”

“She doesn’t,” I answer for her.

“No disrespect, Cutter, but Josette asked me here and I’ll leave when she gives me the go-ahead.”

I can feel the blood boiling in my veins, getting ready to explode like Mount Vesuvius. My hands start vibrating with more anger than I’ve felt in a long time. Having been a fighter himself, Colt should understand the frame of mind of another fighter and how hopped up I am right now. The only thing stopping me from knocking him flat on his ass is the adorable, pitiful-looking little girl cuddled up in the hospital bed.

At that exact moment, another nurse carrying a chart comes through the door, most likely to check up on Bethany. Seeing my standoff with Colt, she says, “I’m sorry, but immediate family only.”

Puffing out my chest, I give him a nasty grin. “I’m her father. This guy, he’s not really anything at all. I’m sure he won’t mind heading home, will ya, Colt?”

“I’m sorry, Colton,” Josette says softly, almost as if she’s apologizing for my attitude and the hospital’s rules. “Thank you for coming. I’ll give you an update later, okay?”

“All right,” he mutters, and leans down to kiss Josette on the cheek. I can’t help but loudly clear my throat. Before his lips connect, he backs away, shrugging and shaking his head. “I’ll talk to you soon,” he says to Josette before turning toward Bethany. “You feel better, Bethy-girl. I’m here if you need me.”

“Bye, Colton. Daddy’s here now, I’ll be okay,” Bethany says, reminding everyone in the room that I’m the one she needs. My nasty smile turns into a smug grin. Even my girl knows he can’t take my place even if he tried. Daddy-daughter win.

Cutter never mentions the outcome of his fight, but judging from the lack of bruising and the undamaged tape, it’s safe to say he never got a single swing. He forfeited, ruining his perfect record, the record he’s been busting his ass over for three years, all for Bethany—because she needed him. If that’s not enough to melt even the coldest of hearts, I’m not sure what is.

Then when he stormed the castle and all but threw Colton out of the room…yeah, he’s got my heart just as much as Bethany’s. I shouldn’t have called Colton, but after all my attempts to reach Cutter with no luck, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get through this alone. The doctors started rattling off words like
virus
and
meningitis,
and I needed a shoulder to lean on. Unfortunately, since the Rhodeses were with Cutter, the only other friend I could depend on was Colton. I knew it wasn’t the greatest idea, but at the time, it was my only option.

Instead of starting up a conversation with Cutter now, I wait until the nurse checks Bethany’s vitals and informs us the doctor will be in shortly. Cutter, despite his massive frame, crawls up onto the gurney, throws the scratchy white sheet over both him and Bethany, and nestles her in the crook of his arm. Together, my favorite people in the world lie in a peaceful quiet, watching a cartoon until Bethany finally dozes off. My girl’s never liked sleeping away from home, and hospitals aren’t the best places to test out any sleepover strategies, so I’m glad she’s got the one thing she wanted.

I can’t help but feel a little jealous she didn’t want me. For so long, I was all she had, and now there’s this new person whom she loves just as much as she loves me, and I’ve got to admit it…Bethany’s a daddy’s girl through and through. This is an envy I’m happy to hold on to for the rest of my life if Cutter sticks around. And I really don’t think there’s anything in this world that could drag him away. It’s been weeks and he’s made no mention of going back to Vegas. Hell, he’s mentioned time and time again that he needs to get a place more suitable than the apartment above the gym to spend time with Bethany. I honestly think he has no intentions of leaving ever again. The thought is scary but so exciting.

Cutter rises from the bed, pulling my attention away from the television, and stalks his way toward me, the soft look he gives Bethany gone, replaced only by disdain. “Hallway,” he grunts, and marches out the door.

Sucking in a deep breath, I stand up and wait a few moments before I follow him outside. He holds his tongue until the door is securely shut behind him and we’re seated on chairs safely out of Bethany’s hearing distance.

“I’m only going to say this one time,” he starts, looking around the corridor and then refocusing on me. “That asshole is never allowed around my daughter again. Do you understand?”

“Cutter.” I sigh, not wanting to fight to explain myself. Colton was never here for Bethany, he was my shoulder to lean on. “You have nothing to worry about with Colton. He’s been a good friend to me for a while. He came so I wasn’t alone.”

“I came,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Yes, you did,” I concede. “We don’t need to argue about this. Colton’s my friend and I can’t guarantee he won’t be around Bethany, since I’m pretty much always with her. This is something you’re going to have to be okay with.”

“The fuck it is, Josette. I’m her father. Not that dick.”

“And nobody ever questioned that. He’s a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“This really something you wanna push, Jo? Choose your battles wisely,” he seethes.

“Battles? Who the hell is battling? You’re over here acting like a damn caveman, placing restrictions on who I can and can’t be around, and have my child around. You’re not running this show, Cutter. It’s about time you get that through your fucking head.” I’m sure as hell that my face is just as red as his. How the fuck dare he dictate my life?

“Our child,” he corrects me. “Had I known about her from the beginning, that asshole wouldn’t even be a point of conversation. So, like I said, never the fuck again, Josette.”

“Seriously?”
I can’t believe he’s brought up not knowing about Bethany. He knows how terrible I feel, and to use that as his comeback…that’s pretty fucking low. “You’re a fucking asshole. You should go.” I turn to walk back into Bethany’s room and Cutter’s arm flies out in front of me, blocking my path.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and I can’t bear to meet his eyes. If he truly does feel bad, I’ll lose it right here. I need to really believe he’s an asshole. It’s the only way I don’t have a breakdown. The last twenty-four hours have been too much.

“Go, Cutter,” I demand, pushing his arm up and out of my way. Thinking I’ve escaped, I’m proven wrong when he follows me into the room and sits in the armchair across from mine.

“Come here,” he says soothingly, opening his knees and spreading his arms wide. Everything in me wants to crawl onto his lap, but I resist, opting to stay across from him.

“It can’t be like this, Cutter. I can’t apologize enough for not telling you, but you can’t throw it in my face every time we don’t agree on how to raise Bethany. We have to be a united front, at all times.”

“I just can’t stand the fact that fucker thinks in his own little head he’s got something over me. You guys are mine, not his.”

“Well, back that train up for a second there, conductor. Bethany may be yours, but I sure as hell am not.”

“Quit lying to yourself, Jo. You’ve been mine since the second I laid eyes on you. I just didn’t know it yet.”

“I’m not anyone’s,” I say, but the words come out more as a pitiful sigh. It’s the truth, I belong to nobody—not Colt. Not Cutter. Not even myself since the moment I chose to be Bethany’s mom. If anything, I belong to that little girl.

Shaking his head, he ignores my statement and decides to change his tone. “I’d very much like it if Colt wasn’t around our daughter anymore. I’ve never liked that guy after all the shit he said about you. He rubs me the wrong way, and our daughter deserves great people in her life that will help us make sure she turns into a wonderful young woman. Not some asshole like Colt.”

I nod because I can’t fight anymore. The only thing that matters is Bethany getting well, and Cutter and me bitching back and forth about Colton isn’t going to change that. “Okay.”

After my concession, the room remains quiet, except for the faint buzzing of the machines next to Bethany’s bed and the sound on the TV, until the doctor walks in, followed closely by Garrett and Rian.

“I’m sorry, guys. Immediate family only,” the doctor politely tells Garrett and Rian, who look shocked that the doctor had the nerve to try to kick them out.

“They’re Bethany’s grandparents. It’s fine if they stay,” Cutter speaks up, and I don’t miss the look of adoration on both the Rhodeses’ faces. Cutter’s always thought of them as his surrogate parents, so it’s only fitting they be grandparents to our daughter. Young as hell grandparents, since Garrett’s only ten years older than us, but they took Cutter in when he had nobody. Even though he was an adult at the time, he still had a lot of growing to do, so for all intents and purposes, Garrett and Rian are Cutter’s mom and dad, hence Bethany’s only living grandparents. The thought is sad and almost makes me want to cry, because my parents would have loved this little girl.

“Okay, but you can only stay for a moment. Bethany needs her rest,” the doctor states, turning to Cutter and me, explaining what he believes Bethany’s problem to be. He uses a lot of medical lingo that I understand but it flies over Cutter’s head, so I put the more complicated things into layman’s terms for him. Basically, it’s just a random bug, nothing disastrous, and as soon as her fever breaks and stays gone for a few hours, they’ll discharge her.

“Thanks so much, doc,” Cutter says appreciatively, shaking the doctor’s hand before the doc leaves the room.

Cutter and I both resume our stations at the end of Bethany’s bed while she sleeps. Garrett and Rian agree to go on home since Bethany’s going to be just fine, hopefully by morning, but with our promises to call them if anything changes or if we need anything. As soon as they leave, Cutter reaches across the small space between our chairs, grabs my hand, and pulls me toward him.

Accepting the fact I can’t tell him no or stop myself from wanting to be close to him, I curl up in his lap and lay my head on his shoulder. For the first time since Bethany started getting sick, a wave of relief washes over me and I’m able to fall asleep.

Over the next few days, Cutter never leaves. He asked Garrett to pack him a bag and drop it off at my house as soon as Bethany was discharged. Cutter’s set up shop in the living room, using my couch as a bed and the coffee table for a dresser. As much as I want to tell him to come to the bedroom, a part of me refuses.

We’re in a decent place—able to stand each other’s company, even actually enjoy it—and a lot can go wrong if Cutter and I cross a line we can’t uncross. Bethany’s too important to risk my running him off and her losing so much. So, for the time being, things between us need to remain platonic and friendly, no matter how much I despise knowing he’s sleeping a few feet away, dressed in only a pair of boxers. I sneak peeks at his chiseled body when I go to the fridge for water in the middle of the night. Yeah, I’m becoming a complete creeper…and I’m okay with it.

“What’s for dinner?” Cutter asks, walking in from his usual afternoon jog.

“Thinking pot pie or something else like it. I’m craving comfort food,” I respond, tossing my wet slacks into the dryer from the washer.

“How about pizza?” he asks.

“We had pizza last night.”

“And?”

“Dude, you’d eat pizza every night if you could, wouldn’t you?”

“After not having it for so long? Yeah, I could eat it every night,” he jokes, reminding me that the last three years of his life haven’t been cupcakes and rainbows. He may have been chasing his dreams and living his dream job, but he had to make sacrifices, like not pigging out on pizza, beer, and all the cupcakes I can bake. Small sacrifices, but sacrifices nonetheless.

“Pizza it is.” I give in. Of course I do. Who am I kidding? Being away for so long couldn’t have been easy for him, and pizza is his comfort food. I should have remembered that from before Bethany and Vegas. We were always eating pizza, talking about eating pizza, or chowing on cold pizza after a round of super-hot sex. Oh dear. Hot sex. Hot sex with this grown-up version of Cutter could be better than all the pizza in all the world.

“All right, I’ll go pick it up. I gotta run by my place anyway,” he says.

Not thinking anything of it, I go about finishing the laundry and start straightening up the kitchen when Cutter leaves.

Music. I need music. Picking a playlist on my phone, I prop it in the dock and let the sounds of Bone Thugs-N-Harmony blare through the living room, careful of the volume so I don’t disturb the resting Bethany. When the kitchen’s finished, I can’t seem to stop, noticing how much housework I’ve let slide since Bethany’s been sick and Cutter’s been setting up camp. I nearly have the entire living room disassembled and put back together when Cutter walks through the door carrying a few pizza boxes and not one but two large duffel bags clearly full of his possessions.

As I give him a questioning stare, he drops the bags on the freshly vacuumed carpet and takes dinner into the kitchen. Without saying a word, I follow him, noticing that he’s making his way through my home with ease, not worrying about anything other than pulling out the plates for supper.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask softly.

“Grabbing some dishes. Unless you want to use paper? The house looks great,” he says, stepping away from the counter and leaning into me to place a chaste kiss on my cheek.

“Nope. Not the dishes. The bags. Whatcha doing?” I repeat.

“I was out of clean clothes and I grabbed some movies. And the blender in case you wanted to make milkshakes later. I bet Bethany would love the way you used to make them. Remember?”

“Cutter, can we talk real quick?”

“Sure.” He plucks a piece of pizza from the box and follows me into the dining room. Sitting in the chair directly next to his, I grab his hand and softly squeeze.

I cut straight to the chase. “You’re not moving in here, Cutter.”

“Excuse me?”

“A lot of stuff’s changed over the years, but I can still read you better than anyone else. You’ve got nearly your entire wardrobe here. Your gaming system’s here. All of your toiletries are in the bathroom and closet. I’m pretty sure the only thing left in the apartment is the furniture. You can’t live here.”

“Why the hell not?” he asks defensively.

“Because. We’re not together. I don’t want you sleeping on the couch, but you can’t sleep in my bed. You can come see Bethany any time you want, but you can’t live with us. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want only sometimes with her, Jo. I want all the times. And can you please stop kidding yourself? We’re together. Well, mostly, anyway. All we’re not doing is the intimate stuff, everything else…yeah, we’ve been together since I followed you home.”

“Cutter, we’re not like that anymore. You’re Bethany’s dad, nothing more.”

“Wanna test that theory?” he asks, pulling my hand into his lap and setting it on his groin. “Wanna tell me that I’m not yours?” He raises my hand, places my palm directly over his lips, and snakes his tongue out to lick it, causing me to squirm slightly in my seat. “Wanna tell me you’re not mine?” He leans forward. I lean forward. Our eyes never break contact. Not until just before his lips touch mine, ever so lightly. “Wanna tell me we’re not meant to be? Cuz baby, if you’re trying to tell me any of this, you’re fucking nuts.” Then his mouth softly comes down onto mine again, and the kiss isn’t punishing like I wished it would be, but caring and loving and so fucking sexy I’m climbing off my chair and straddling his waist, grinding myself down onto him.

“Cutter,” I moan quietly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he responds cockily, and gives me the deep kiss I’ve spent the last three years yearning for. I haven’t had time for men since Bethany, not that I was really interested anyway. I kinda figured sex was out of my life for a while. Now with Cutter back, I feel like a horny teenage boy, wanting to jump him at all hours of the day. Only I can’t tell him, because I’m pretty sure he’d take me up on the offer. But, hell, one round with Cutter could last me a lifetime.