Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel (7 page)

Pacing in my small bathroom, I keep track of the time, silently begging the heavens in a prayer I know won’t be answered. I know better. Shit, I knew better, but I was fucking dumb. Stupid, actually. Caught up and living in the moment.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” I mumble to myself, checking the clock on my phone for the umpteenth time. All that’s passed is ninety seconds. A minute and a half gone, and a minute and a half to go. I glance at the counter, watching the window on the stick turn to a putrid shade of pink. As the seconds tick by, the pink only gets brighter, screaming my fate.

“Son of a bitch,” I cry, swiping the stick onto the floor. Turning on the water in the sink, I cup my hands under the cold flow and bring some up to my mouth, then my face, until I just flat-out stick my entire head inside the bowl and let the water pour down on me.

“Josette, you in there?” Nichelle calls, knocking softly on the door.

“Yep.” I don’t want to talk to anyone. Except Cutter, but he’s spending the day with Garrett and Rian, wanting to get as much time with them as possible before he leaves in two days.

Tomorrow. We agreed to spend his last night together watching movies and hanging out. We didn’t agree on this. Not even fucking close.

“Can I borrow your sociology book?” Nichelle asks through the door. I pull it open and give her a blank stare.

“Sure. Go for it.” I don’t need it anymore. How the hell am I supposed to go to school and raise a baby while Cutter’s wherever he’s going to be doing whatever he’s going to be doing? Oh my God, every plan I ever had for myself…it’s gone. Out the window. I’m officially a statistic. Wouldn’t my parents be so proud.

“Do you need to talk about something? You’re more of an asshole today than usual.”

“Niche. Not now, all right?” It’s not her fault I’m in a foul mood, so I’m trying to be nice, but my words come out short and rude. She takes the hint, rolling her eyes and walking into my room, then leaving with my book.

I need to figure out my plan before I see Cutter tomorrow. There are options. Options that don’t include me dropping out of school or forcing either of us into a situation we’re not ready for. There are always options. I just need to find one right for me. For us.

Sleeping didn’t help. Actually, it didn’t happen except in short spurts. An hour out, two awake. Twenty minutes here, fifteen there. I did manage to keep myself in bed, refusing to rush over and ruin any of the time Cutter has left with the Rhodeses. That’s a win, I guess.

Climbing out of bed, I quickly run a brush through my hair, smoothing out the shit show happening on top of my head, hopefully disguising the one inside my head. I don’t have the patience to do my makeup or change out of my sleep shorts, so I just pull a hoodie over my head, slip into a pair of sneakers, and head out the door.

I’m sure Cutter’s not expecting me for a few more hours, but I can always play the “I couldn’t wait to see you” card and hopefully he won’t question me too much. I need to tell him when I’m ready. This isn’t something where you can pop over for breakfast, drop the bomb, and continue on about your day. Today’s the last day I’m going to have with him for a while. It has to be mostly happy and not crazy. And I’m sure once he hears there’s something swimming around in my uterus and the conclusion I’ve come to, the day’s going to take a drastic turn.

The drive to Cutter’s apartment is emotional. Every song on the radio makes me cry. The quiet makes me cry. Talk radio annoys me and being annoyed makes me cry. I knew something was going on with my body the week before last when I couldn’t stomach the smell of Nichelle’s cooking. Then I was trying on a new bra and my boobs were swollen as hell and barely fit into the B cup I usually wear. Don’t even get me started on how when I was watching one of those feel-good movies, I was so happy I couldn’t stop crying. It’s been absolutely ridiculous, and I should have put two and two together. It wasn’t until I missed my period by a few days, when I’m always spot on, that my gut started screaming at me.

And now here I am, sitting in the parking lot of the gym, crying about crying, and working up the nerve to walk up the stairs, knock on the door, and tell Cutter we’re having a baby. Or not having a baby, if I can muster up some damn courage.

I quickly jog up two stairs, then back down one. I try again, two up and one down. After a few minutes of reenacting the metaphor for my life, I suck in a deep breath and slowly take the stairs one at a time until I’m on the landing, unsure of what to do next. Is there a special knock to announce a knocked-up visitor? I should have watched YouTube to prepare. They have how-tos on there for just about everything. And if they didn’t have one for “I’m pregnant by my boyfriend, who’s really my best friend, and he’s going to Vegas to train to be a professional fighter, and I’m going to ruin his last day at home for a while,” I could have made one…maybe gotten on
Ellen
or something.

As I raise my fist to the door, Cutter whips the door open and barrels outside, nearly knocking me down the entire flight of stairs, but luckily catching me by the hip before my untimely demise.

“Classes are out for break and you’re awake before nine? What universe are we in?” Cutter jokingly asks as he helps me right myself.

“Figured if I’m only gonna get one more day with my best friend, I should make sure it’s a full day, right?”

“Well, you’re not really dressed for jogging…or anything at all. Why are you in your PJs?”

“Don’t ask questions, dude. I wanted a lazy day. No jogging of any kind. TV and stupid movies. Come on, you can run for the rest of your life, not today.” I push him back inside the apartment, fully prepared for him to fulfill his day’s destiny of running when I drop the baby bomb on him.

“Your wish is my command, my lady.” He ushers me into the living room, where it’s at least a million degrees. I get that fall nights can be chilly, but not enough to crank the furnace and send smoke signals to all others saying
Winter is coming
. Pulling off my hoodie, I lay it across the back of the couch.

“Is this a strip show? Should I be sitting down? Full of surprises lately, Jo.”

“You have no idea,” I mumble under my breath as I kick off my sneakers.

I plop down on the couch next to Cutter and he pulls my hand into his lap, lacing our fingers together. “I’m not gonna be gone forever, Jo. Stop thinking I’m leaving and never coming back. And contrary to popular belief, we can be best friends even if we don’t see each other every day. Please, just stop being so sad.”

“I’m not sad. Well, I am, but that’s not really it. I’m anxious. Like, what’s life going to be like without you here?”

“The same as it was before I got here.”

“But it was boring and it sucked. You know I don’t like people. And I’m pretty sure people don’t like me. You’re ruining my life, Cutter Greer,” I whine, hopefully distracting him from my oversized boobs hanging out of the top of my tank top. I apparently wasn’t thinking clearly when I dressed myself today.

“You’re gonna be just fine. Work at the gym for Garrett. Rian will sub in for me while I’m away. Before you know it, you’ll be done with school and can get a job wherever you want and then I’ll come join you there when I’m not fighting.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Pick a movie.” I’m the one who needs the distraction. Each time my mouth opens, I want to tell him, and each time I chicken out, knowing damn well it’ll end our day together, and I’m not willing to sacrifice that for anything. I can bear the burden alone for a few more hours.

Cutter picks out something funny, thank God, but did it really have to be
Baby Mama
? Out of the hundreds of movies on the wall, this is the one that screamed out
Watch me!
today? I could throw up. Literally.

“Excuse me.” I brush past Cutter putting in the DVD and haul ass to the bathroom, barely making it before my stomach explodes and nothing but yellow bile comes out, leaving an acidic taste in my mouth. If I could just get to my bag, I could pull out my travel toothbrush, but I’m sure Cutter’s going to have questions.

“Can you bring me my purse, please!” I yell, thinking up every objection he might have, but he doesn’t say anything when he hands the bag through the crack in the door. Not a word. Feeling as if I got away with something, I brush my teeth and make sure all the toothpaste is washed down the drain just like the guilt eating away at my gut.

“Feeling okay?” he asks, concerned, the moment I step out of the bathroom.

“Yep,” I answer, refusing to meet his eyes. Finding a comfortable place on the couch, I put my feet out in front of me, hopefully to pass along the message
I want to be alone, but with you at the same time, so sit over there.
He doesn’t take the hint.

Cutter stands at the cushion directly next to me and motions for me to lift my feet. Curling them up so my knees touch my chin, I’m uncomfortable as all hell. Then he sits and pulls my feet back out over the tops of his thighs, gently running circles on my calves. “Better?” he asks.

“Cutter, I’m pregnant,” I blurt, and the word vomit doesn’t stop there. “I am so fucking sorry. God, I was stupid, and this doesn’t change anything.”

Pushing my feet from his lap and rising from the sofa, he paces the length of the coffee table, finally taking a seat in the armchair, his elbows braced on his knees, leg shaking violently. “You’re pregnant?” he asks, as if needing to hear it again to make sure I wasn’t dicking with him.

“Yes,” I whisper, once again pulling my body close, hugging myself around my calves, doing everything I can to disappear into the couch.

“And you don’t think it changes anything? I’ve never done this before, but I’m pretty sure this changes everything, Josette.” His voice gets louder and I no longer have the strength to hold my head upright. I give up and burrow into my folded legs and arms.

“I’m sorry.” Tears fall freely onto my lap.

“No, Jo,” Cutter says sympathetically, coming to sit next to me and pulling me into his chest, where my cries turn to gut-wrenching sobs. “We’ll figure it out. Please don’t cry. Please.” As he rocks me, I can feel his unease through his bravado. He’s just as scared as I am.

“I’m not keeping it.”

“We don’t have to make any decisions right now. We have time.”

Pulling away from him, I use the back of my hands to wipe under my puffy eyes and prepare myself to tell Cutter my decision. It’s what’s best for both of us.

“Listen,” I say, desperately trying to find my voice. “I have to finish school. I can’t work for Garrett forever. You’re leaving tomorrow. You have dreams. We
both
have dreams. There’s absolutely no reason to bring a baby into this world because we made a mistake. It’s only been two weeks since we decided to give this a try, and I’m pretty sure being pregnant right now wasn’t in the cards for either of us. We have bigger plans. Ones we can’t achieve with a crying newborn. All this will do is put us in a situation where we feel obligated to stay together forever. We won’t get a fair shake. I’ll resent you. You’ll resent me. It’ll be a shit show in the making. And I love you, dude, you’re my best friend and I don’t ever want to hate you or you to hate me. This is what’s best.”

“Are you sure? This isn’t a decision you can take back, Jo. I’m with you however you want to go. But you need to take some time and think. I’ll call Max and see about pushing things back. I doubt my spot’s going anywhere anytime soon. I’ll stay with you until you figure it out. We figure it out. I love you, Jo. I really do.”

I’ve never been so relieved. I seriously thought this was going to be a fight, a huge one, with Cutter ending up being pissed at me. It doesn’t make the situation any easier, but knowing that no matter what, I have someone in my corner, makes it easier to stomach.

“Please don’t do that. This is what I’m talking about. You’re already pushing back your dreams. It can’t happen. I’m going to be fine. I have an appointment for Friday.”

“Who’s going to go with you?” Cutter asks, his brows furrowed in worry.

“I’m fine, dude. I’m a big girl,” I say with a smile, trying to disguise the fact I’m scared as shit and I don’t want to do this alone. I want someone, but he’s all I have, so I’m shit outta luck.

“I’ll call Rian. That’s my condition. I’ll follow your lead. Your body, your choice, all that, but you’re gonna give me peace of mind. I need to know you’re okay and I know Rian will take care of you. You’ll give me that?”

“I can do that,” I answer, some of the fear evaporating from how much he cares for me. “Ya know, I kinda love you, too.” Cutter Greer’s a pretty spectacular guy, and someday will make an excellent father. A sick feeling hits my gut when I let my mind drift to a place it shouldn’t, not now…Cutter
is
a dad…a parent who won’t get the chance to raise his child. Neither will I.

“Okay, come on over here. We’ve got a day date to get to.”

Putting my defenses away for the next twenty-four hours, I curl into Cutter’s side while he strokes my hair and we watch funny movies for the rest of the day. We don’t speak of our situation for the rest of the day; there’s nothing but making memories and enjoying each other’s company. Cutter refuses to let me leave when it starts getting dark, dragging me to his bed and pulling off all my clothes. Laying me down on the sheets, he makes love to me in a way nobody’s ever done, promising me the pregnancy changes nothing between us. That we’re still together and he’s not disgusted by the choice I made without talking to him, even though it was only a few weeks ago that I lost my mind about him doing the same thing. I agree with him just to appease him, but in my gut, I know that after I do what I plan, he’ll never be able to look at me the same. There’s no way our relationship will be able to withstand the blow; as much as I dream it could be different, the logical side of my brain overpowers the dreamy, romantic side. I’ve just signed our death warrant, no matter what he says.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Cutter whispers, buried to the hilt, my legs wrapped around his back and my nails slowly grazing his back.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say, smiling up at him as my orgasm rolls over me slowly, beginning to pull me to its murky depths.