One Last Fight (Part Two) (Fighter Romance) (Dark Desires Book 2) (2 page)

FOUR

SLOANE

It was another few days before Jordan came home. I’d wanted to be at the hospital as much as possible, but I had so much schoolwork to catch up on. Luckily Jordan’s mother had gotten my phone number and had been sending text updates. I ran to his apartment right after class as soon as he was home. When I got there she was just settling him into bed, with Leo at her side.

“Now remember, you are on bed rest for another two weeks. And I’ll take you to your doctor’s appointment at the end of the week to make sure all your incisions are healing properly. Do not do anything dumb, Jordan,” she said sternly. For such a small woman she certainly put the fear of God into her son.

“Of course, Mama. And again, thank you for all of your help.”

She smiled at him dearly, “All of your medicines are on your bedside table, and I’ve already poured a glass of water for you. When you get hungry, you call me. I’ll bring you some soup later. But for now you need to rest.”

I waited by the door as I looked around at the very small studio apartment and saw mostly what I expected: bare walls, and just one picture of him, Leo and his mom.

His bed was along one wall with a recliner sitting next to it and a small table between them. His TV was on the other wall right next to a small kitchenette that had a washer and dryer attached. The bathroom was on the right side of the wall near the hallway. It wasn’t much, but it was his.

Leo sat down in the recliner and started clicking through television channels, and Jordan noticed my presence. “You’re here.”

I gave him an encouraging smile. “So are you.”

“Finally.”

“Yeah, it took you long enough. You know, I’ve wanted to see your apartment for a few weeks now. It would’ve been nice if you could’ve shown me around, instead of being so lazy.”

He smiled at my joke but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. His mother gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I have to go to work. Leo will be with you today, and I’ll be back later with dinner. You three behave.”

I nodded to her, “Yes ma’am. I promise I’ll keep an eye on these rascals.”

She smiled at me and squeezed my arm as she walked past, closing the door behind her. There wasn’t really anywhere else to sit but Jordan scooted over in his bed just enough that I could perch myself on the edge. He started whispering to me almost as soon as I sat down. “I feel like I’m in high school again.” He turned his eyes towards Leo. “I haven’t had a chaperone on a date in a long time.”

“Is that what this is? A date? I mean, usually I don’t get into some guy’s bed for quite a while. I’m a classy lady after all.”

He moved his hand over to my thigh and squeezed it. “I remember. Don’t you worry, it’s one of the things I’ve been thinking about an awful lot. One of the reasons I need to get better so quickly.”

Leo looked over at both of us. “I might be old, but I can hear. You two are disgusting. But if you feel well enough to talk to a girl like that, then you don’t need a babysitter. I’m going down to the gym to check on things. I’ll be back in an hour.” He stood up and walked around the bed towards the door. He stopped with his hand on the handle. “And don’t you dare tell your mother. That woman might be small, but she scares the hell out of me.”

We both laughed as Jordan agreed, “We won’t, I promise. I’m not trying to get in trouble with her either. She’s mad enough.”

“You’re damn right she is. We all are, even Sloane, although she won’t tell you.” He sighed before opening the door. “We just care about you son, nobody wants you to get hurt like that again.”

I saw worry etch around Jordan’s eyes. “I won’t Leo, I promise.”

Leo simply nodded and walked out, shutting the door softly behind him.

As much as I knew that I shouldn’t, I believed him. I could tell in the short time that I had been around his mother that Jordan really respected her. He cared about her so much. He knew that by getting hurt he’d practically broken her heart, and I didn’t think he would do that again.

He patted the empty space next to him. “Lay with me.”

I lay down next to him and as he put his arm around me, I snuggled into the soft space between his shoulder and jawbone. I didn’t want to hurt him, so I tried to be as gentle as possible, but he just pulled me closer. He took in a deep breath and I felt him wince underneath me. “I can move.”

“But that would defeat the purpose.”

“The purpose of what?”

“Of you being close to me. I don’t want you to move. I want you next to me.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “Okay.”

He turned looking at me with sad eyes. “You saved my life, Sloane. You got into a cage when everybody fled. That was bad ass. So I figure as long as you’re next me, I’ll be okay.”

I tried to contain my smile. “I think I can do that.” I paused for a moment, but the silence felt awkward to me. “I like your mom, and Leo. Your family’s nice. They really love you.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky. My dad split when I was just a baby, and Leo’s always been there for me. I know how hurt he is that I did this fight. But I’m going to figure out a way to make it up to him. To all of you.”

I set my lips into a thin line. “I just don’t understand why you did it. You didn’t have to.”

He let his fingertips gently graze my temple before speaking. “I know that now. But sometimes I just get these urges, this need to prove myself. It’s more to prove myself to me, if that makes sense. It has nothing to do with anyone else. I told you that I was dangerous.”

I turned to look at him, his fierce blue eyes shining in the fading sunlight of his apartment window. “No, you told me that you are dangerous for me, but you’re not. The only person that was in any danger was you. You have a freaking death wish.”

He laughed again but stopped short, flinching under the pain.

“You should take some of these pain meds. You need them. And the anti-inflammatory; you heard what the doctor said—if you swell up again you’re going to have to go back to the hospital.”

He nodded slowly closing his eyes. “Yeah, give me the anti-inflammatory and I’ll take three of the Oxy.”

“Three?” Clearly he didn’t know what he was saying. The pain must have been worse than he was admitting. The prescription had been very explicit: one every twelve hours. If he took three, he would be lucky if he didn’t fall into a coma. “I think you’re only supposed to take one.” I sat up and started to unscrew the cap off the pills when he started arguing with me.

“Three is the only way it will do anything. Trust me; I’ve been on enough of those.”

I looked at him, confused. “You mean when you hurt your shoulder? That was a long time ago. These are probably much more serious medications. You’re not taking three.”

“I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to try to control me anymore.”

“I’m not trying to control you. I’m looking out for your health. I didn’t just get you out of the hospital for you to go back.”

I looked at the bottle to be sure that I was right. And that’s exactly what it said. One pill every twelve hours, but then I noticed something. The doctor on the bottle for this Oxycodone was not the same doctor on the anti-inflammatory pills. And the date was all wrong; this had been filled three months ago. “Jordan are you still on pain medication from your shoulder?”

He put his hand over his eyes. “I really don’t want to get into this right now with you.”

“What the hell does that mean? Are you still taking these medications or not?”

He sighed and looked at me with an anger in his eyes I had only seen one other time. When he had kicked me out of the locker room and we’d ended things the first time. “Sometimes I use them to take the edge off. My shoulder still hurts, especially when the weather is bad or if I’ve had a fight two days in a row. It’s no big deal.”

I set the bottle down on the table carefully. “It is a big deal, isn’t it?”

He clenched his jaw and I saw the muscles in his face tighten.

“Isn’t it? Answer me! Are you addicted to these?”

He shut his eyes like I’d hit him in the face, his pained expression reaching all the way down to his mouth. “I think you should go.”

“What?”

“I don’t like to repeat myself. Just go.”

FIVE

JORDAN

I had told her. I had warned her that I was volatile. That I was dangerous. But she wouldn’t listen to me. And now she found out about my dirty little secret. The thing that I’d been hiding in my locker and in my gym bag for two years. I took Oxy to feel alive. And she was right, I was completely addicted.

I popped pills before every fight, and I popped pills after most fights too. Sometimes I took them in the morning just to take the edge off. Other times I would swallow them down with a nice cold beer after a win. I liked the way that they made me feel. Like my injury couldn’t beat me, like no one could. But suddenly, watching her look at me like I was some type of monster was killing me inside. All I wanted to do was snatch the bottle out of her hands and throw some down the back of my throat, but I couldn’t do that with her here.

She was so good to me. Sitting by my bed in the hospital, asking all the right questions with the healthcare providers, it was like she was my real girlfriend. But it was only a glimpse into what we could be. And I knew that. I didn’t deserve a girl like her.

She looked at me with tears filling the bottom of her eyes and turned away to blink them out of existence. She wanted to be tough, even though we both knew she wasn’t.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me again. I saved your life, dammit! Doesn’t that count for something?”

It did count for something. It counted for everything, but I couldn’t let her waste her life saving mine. I was happy with who I was, and I wasn’t ready to change that. Not even for a girl like her.

“Sloane, I just can’t do that. I can’t be with someone who can’t accept all of me.”

“Then what about me being next to you? How I was keeping you safe? Was any of that true?”

More than she would ever realize.

“I don’t know.”

“Fine! Have it your way. Have a nice fucking life.”

She stormed out of the apartment before I could say anything else. But I knew it was for the best because I didn’t deserve a girl like Sloane. It just wasn’t meant to be.

***

Leo returned just about fifteen minutes later. I still was holding the bottle of pills in my hand. He didn’t even know about my addiction, no one had. I was good at keeping secrets. I had been my whole life.

“Where’s Sloane? I didn’t think she would leave you alone on your first day.”

“We had a fight,” I said gruffly, trying to play off the questions that were about to be thrown at me.

“What kind of fight? What did you say to her?”

“Why the hell is it always my fault?”

“Because good girls like that? They don’t come around very often. And they know about guys like you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I know what you do in your spare time. You sleep around, and I’m guessing that’s why she left. Found a pair of panties lying around here or some other god-awful thing. I’ve kept you off the streets, and I thought that I had taught you how to be a proper man. But if you let a girl like that go, then I haven’t taught you a damn thing.”

No one spoke. He moved to the window and stared out into the afternoon. I’d had enough. I couldn’t stand the deafening silence that was in my head anymore. Leo was right—she was one of those good girls. “I have a problem,” I said in a low voice.

He spun around for the window and looked at me concerned. “What is it?”

I held the bottle in my hands like it was my lifeline. Like if he took it from me I just might die right there in that crappy apartment, in a secondhand bed. But if I was going to die, she was the one worth dying for.

“I’m addicted to Oxy. And I need your help.”

SIX

SLOANE

I ran from the building and got into my car, slamming the door behind me. How could he be so stupid? Throwing his life away like that! I just couldn’t understand. I thought Jordan had grown, that he would stop being so dangerous after this past fight, but instead he just wanted more trouble now than ever. How had I not seen the signs? How could I not tell that the guy I was going crazy over was addicted to pain medication?

Every thought raced through my mind as I drove, but I didn’t really know where I was going until I had been driving for over an hour. Nadia was blowing up my phone and I finally had calmed down enough to answer. “Hello?”

“Where the hell are you? I thought you would have been home by now! You said you were just going to do a drop in visit.”

“Well my drop in turned into a drop out, and now I’m on my way to my parents.” I’d had no idea that’s where my mind had taken me, but I knew from the surrounding area that I was on a small highway that took me towards upstate New York. And to the Cassidy family residence.

“What happened?”

I sighed heavily, not really wanting to talk about it. “Jordan is as dangerous as you said he was. And he doesn’t want anything to do with me and my nice girl qualities. We’re over.”

“Again?”

“Again. And this time I think it’s for real. He practically threw me out of his apartment Nadia! I can’t even believe it!”

“I’m so sorry, honey. He’ll notice what is lost, trust me. I know he will. So how long do you think you’re going to stay with your parents? I mean, we don’t have classes all weekend. Though you’re going to miss a crazy toga party tomorrow night.”

“I think I might just stay for the whole weekend. I need a break from all of the craziness that is school and Jordan right now.”

“Well tell your parents I said hello. I like being their favorite.”

I laughed in spite of my bad mood, “I will. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

I drove for another forty five minutes in complete silence. I didn’t even turn on the radio for fear of what mushy love song I would find that would just bring the tears back into my eyes. I didn’t want to cry over Jordan Jackson. I wasn’t going to be that girl. I wasn’t going to let him make me feel that way.

As I pulled into our circular driveway, my mother was in the garden pulling some weeds. She turned around and shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked in my direction. My mother looked almost just like me, just about thirty years older. And she was also a lot more poised and graceful than I ever was. Her hair flowed around her shoulders in perfect curls at the ends, and she had a beautiful set of pearls around her neck. She was straight out of a magazine with her gardening gloves, straw hat and high waisted capris with a buttoned up blouse. Sometimes she made me feel beautiful just looking at her. This was exactly the type of break I needed.

As I shut off my car she walked over to me a huge smile on her face. “Darling, I wasn’t expecting you! To what do I owe the pleasure?” She extended her arms and I immediately got out of the car and ran into them.

“Mom, I screwed up.”

She ran her gloved hand over my hair and shushed me. “Now that can’t be true. Come in. Let’s have a cup of tea and talk about it.”

We walked together into the grand foyer of the beautiful white home that I had loved growing up in as a child. The driveway itself was longer than most of the streets in the small city where BU was. I had always lived like this, and I didn’t really know any different until I met Jordan. We always hung out with other affluent kids, mostly other politicians’ children. I’d grown up going to birthday parties with ponies and nannies. But my parents had always stayed involved with me and my brother, and that made me feel special.

We went to the living room where my father was sitting next to the window reading a book in his chair. It didn’t bother me anymore to see him in a wheelchair; it was just another part of life. I walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was beaming, obviously also surprised to see me.

“Hi, baby! How are you?” He looked up at my mother who had a pleasant yet serious face. He could tell immediately that I was there for a reason. “What’s the matter? We weren’t expecting you. Is everything okay?”

I shook my head as the tears started streaming on my face. I kept it together in the car, but suddenly I felt like that had been enough. “I told you I started dating a guy. But he wasn’t what I thought.”

My father’s eyebrows came together. “Did he hurt you?”

I put my hands up in protest, “Nothing like that, it’s just… He’s a fighter. That’s his profession, an MMA fighter. And he’s one of the best in the city. But a couple weeks ago he got into this underground fight and he got beat really bad. I was there when they took him to the hospital and everything. I thought now that he was out and starting to feel better that he would, I don’t know, make better choices? But instead I find out that he’s doing drugs! Oxycodone. And he thinks that it’s nothing! I just don’t know what to do. I care about him, I’ve no idea why, but I do. But he just keeps pushing me away.”

My mother rubbed my back as the tears kept coming. “Honey, you just have to help him through this.”

Of course that’s what my mother would say—she stood by my father through his accident and the ordeal that followed. Years of surgery and rehabilitation. Suddenly I felt so small standing next to her. I couldn’t even get through one argument with Jordan without allowing him to end our relationship. I gave him all the power, and that was my fault. “I just don’t think that I can! He doesn’t want me to. He just wants to be alone and keep going as he is. There is just a part of me that thought he wanted to be better. That we could make each other better.”

My father continued to sit in silence, which was unlike him. He usually was the one to come to for sage advice, but this time he seemed to lack any real thoughts about the situation. I couldn’t help but be disappointed.

My mother crossed her arms. I thought it was meant to be a dainty gesture; however, when she looked at my father I saw steely glare in her eyes. “You have to tell her.”

He ran his hands through his salt and pepper hair before spinning his wheelchair around to face me. “You should sit down. Your mother’s right, I should tell you.”

I shook my head in confusion, “Tell me what? I thought that you two would be upset. I just told you that my brand-new boyfriend does drugs! And you want to have a sit down?” This wasn’t like my parents at all. What was so important that they had to tell me? When they didn’t speak I slowly sat down on the sofa and waited.

Finally my father sighed, “You should know about what happened to me after the accident. After all of those surgeries and finding out that I wouldn’t be governor anymore, I became addicted to my pain pills.” He hung his head in shame and my mother came over and put her hand on his shoulder. He reached out with his left hand and squeezed hers tightly. I could tell that admitting this to me was killing him. Here I was complaining about my boyfriend and his drug problem when it turned out that my father had one. My brave, strong, and extremely stoic father had a drug problem. Jordan was much more volatile and dangerous than he was, so maybe I had jumped to conclusions too fast.

“How long did this go on?”

My father kept his head down and my mother answered instead. “Almost two years. We were at the point where we were going to have to try rehab when your father agreed to go cold turkey. We told you and your brother that he got an infection when really he was going through withdrawal symptoms.”

“But how did you get them? I mean, was your doctor just writing you a prescription?” That didn’t seem right. My father had hardly any pain after his last surgery. What doctor in their right mind would continue to prescribe him super addictive pain medication?

This time my father spoke, “When you’re a powerful man, drugs aren’t hard to come by. And honestly, for someone like Jordan, he was probably spacing them out. Only feeling like he needed to use them before a fight. Or maybe he was getting them on the street. But then he was in even more dangerous territory, because they could be fake, or he could be getting them from someone who could really hurt him. Either way you don’t want to mess with someone who’s on pain killers. Addicts are dangerous.”

“You’re not dangerous!” I protested. I stood up and walked over to my father, kneeling down in front of him. “Even now I don’t think you’re dangerous. And I really appreciate your honesty. I’m glad that you told me. It gives me a whole new perspective about what Jordan is going through. I know what it was like for you to lose the presidency, and that’s how Jordan feels about fighting. It’s his passion; his whole life is built around it. If he felt like he couldn’t fight anymore, he would do anything to make sure that he could.”

“I thought that I would do anything, but then I realized I had what was most important to me. My family and my life. If that bullet had hit me any higher”—he paused, sucking in a deep breath—“I wouldn’t be here. I am lucky that it was a bad shot, paralyzed or not. I’m just lucky to be alive. And Jordan should feel the same way. We read the article about the fighter getting beat almost to death. I had no idea it was him, of course, but he barely made it out of there.”

I tried to chase away the tears that I felt stinging at the corners of my eyes. But they were right. In that moment in the ring I had thought I lost him. Part of me felt like I had willed him to live, and he had been so lucky. “But he pushed me away. He told me he was no good for me, that he couldn’t be with someone like me.”

My mother had a sad smile on her face. “Honey, he did that to protect you. Your father asked for a separation at least three times while he was involved with drugs. He wanted to keep me safe, it had nothing to do with him. Jordan just doesn’t want to see you get hurt.”

“But he doesn’t control what I do. I do.” I slowly stood up, giving my father peck on the cheek as I did so. I have to go back and see him.”

“We know. But you can eat dinner with us and stay the night, give him some time to think about it. Maybe he’ll come to you,” my mother said optimistically.

“Maybe.” I chewed on my lower lip as I thought about Jordan walking into my grandiose home. He would feel so out of place here. It would prove his point of us not being right for each other. I would have to get to him first. It was the only way.

I stayed the rest of the weekend with my parents, just waiting for Jordan to call. But he didn’t. On Sunday afternoon I drove back to campus and did homework for the rest of the evening to prepare for my classes the next week. I then pulled out my résumé and looked up some internships online. Anything that would get me a job after college, even if it didn’t pay very much. I applied to a couple and was just filling in one of the final references when my phone rang. I grabbed it, praying it was Jordan, but it was a number I didn’t recognize. I answered it anyway.

“Is this Sloane?”

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“It’s Leo. Jordan’s manager. He asked that I call you.”

My heart leapt up in my chest. “He did? Is he okay?”

“He’s going to be. He told me about his problem.” I could tell the words were difficult for him to get out because he kept pausing at awkward points. “He’s in rehab. And he’s going to be there for a couple weeks. He wanted you to know.”

So he was getting help. Did this mean that there is a chance for us? “Did he say anything else about me?”

“No honey, I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again.” And with that he hung up. Jordan was in some type of rehabilitation facility and I was sitting here updating my résumé. Maybe we were both moving in the right direction, even though they were different ones.

I didn’t hear from Jordan at all while he was in rehab. I went to class and made phone interviews, just did my own thing. There were a couple good parties in there, too. I would miss those after college. But I checked my phone obsessively and got nothing. It had been almost three weeks when I finally heard from him. And it wasn’t in the way I was expecting.

“Someone’s here for you, Sloane!” I heard one of my sisters yell up the stairs. We pretty much had an open door policy for friends on campus, so it had to be someone that they didn’t know, or family.

I walked out of my bedroom and down the flight of stairs to see Jordan, still bruised, standing in the door holding a dozen roses. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped across the threshold and pushed the flowers in my face. “I’m really sorry if this isn’t okay. But part of my therapy is to make amends with the people I hurt. And that sounds like some bullshit, which it totally is. But I have to do it. And I hurt you Sloane. And somehow by hurting you I hurt myself. So here are some flowers, and I’m sorry. I will never bother you again.”

He turned to leave when I reached out to him. “You’re not bothering me. Why don’t you come upstairs?” Away from all of my sisters’ prying eyes. “I want to hear about everything. Please come upstairs and tell me.”

Nadia stood in the kitchen where I could see her, and she simply nodded at me. An unspoken rule about having boys over: your roommate stays out.

We walked into my bedroom, and I perched myself on the edge of my bed holding the flowers up to my nose. They smelled amazing. “These are really beautiful. They actually told you to buy these in rehab?”