Unbroken (Fighter Erotic Romance #4) (3 page)

SHANE.
As A-Train smoked his cigarette, I walked across the parking lot toward the motorcycles. Although what he said made perfect sense, I didn’t necessarily want to hear it. For some reason I found comfort wallowing in the believing the pity I felt was warranted, and everything I was doing was for good reason.

As I got within a few feet of where he stood, he sat down in the seat of his motorcycle and continued to puff on his cigarette.

“So, you riding out with me?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I just…”

“You just what?” he interrupted.

He stood and momentarily straddled his motorcycle as he took one last pull on the portion of a cigarette which remained. As he exhaled the smoke, he stepped over the motorcycle and tossed the butt onto the parking lot.

“You wanna give me your honest
opinion
as to whether or not you can whip my ass?” he asked as he turned to face me.

“Excuse me?” I responded, knowing full well what he had said, but for some reason needing to hear him say it again.

“You heard me,” he said as he positioned himself in a fighting stance.

“I have an
opinion
you won’t get one punch to make contact.
Not a fucking one.
You know why? Because you’re a washed up piece of overweight shit who’s scared to fight for the title fight. You’re scared to be amongst your friends, and scared like a little bitch you might have to become a man and raise a child who doesn’t fall well within the limits what
you
perceive as perfect,” he paused and twisted his feet firmly in place.

My blood began to boil.

“So, what? You afraid if you and Kace raise a special needs child someone might eventually call him a retard? Call your little boy a fucking retard? Huh Dekk? Your little retard boy?”

I swung a thunderous right jab toward his left cheek. I have no idea what he did to counter the punch, all I know is it happened with lightning speed. Somehow my right forearm wound up positioned under his left armpit, and he turned approximately ninety degrees to his right, wrapping his right arm around my neck. As I felt the blade from his knife pressing against my neck, he chuckled.

As he laughed a dull laugh and twisted his foot on the cigarette he had earlier thrown onto the parking lot, he pressed the blade tighter against my neck with his left hand. Fearful for what was next, I stood motionless and waited.

“You see Dekk, you threw that punch under the
opinion
you were going to teach me a lesson. But here’s the thing. I made those comments knowing,
absolutely knowing
I had to do so to make my point. You swung because you’re going to defend that child regardless. Special needs or not, he’s yours. You’re just fucking scared. And there’s nothing to be afraid of,” he spit on the ground beside where he stood.

“That doctor gave you his fucking
opinion
based on the amnio test they performed. He told you the kid
might
have some chromosomal disorder. He said he could be born with Down Syndrome. And you fucking disappeared. Well, I got news for you. My nephew
is
special needs. More specifically, he has Down Syndrome. And he’s one of the best damned people you’ll ever meet.
Ever
,” he growled into my right ear.

“You see, special needs means just
that
. He has needs that are special. It doesn’t mean he isn’t deserving of anything and everything that every other person on this earth is deserving of. It only means he has a few needs unique to him – and they’re described as special.
Special.
You know the definition of special?” he released my neck and pushed me six feet or so into the parking lot.

“Better or more important than others,” he folded his knife and clipped it onto the pocket of his jeans.

As he stared at me with watchful eyes, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. After he stood for a moment, he exhaled what little smoke was left in his lungs and took another long pull from the cigarette.

“Just to clarify, I said what I said about your boy to make you realize something – you’re already committed to this – emotionally, physically, and spiritually. You just needed to
feel
it. You’re too damned blind to see it,” he exhaled a cloud of smoke and shook his head lightly.

“Now, you know what we’re gonna do?” he asked.

I stood and stared, still angry over what he said, regardless of why he felt a need to do so.

“We’re going to get on our sleds and ride to Austin. You’re going to apologize to Kace, Ripp, Vee, Austin, the old man, and everyone else who’s been worried about you. I could give two shits whether or not you’re going fight for the championship, makes no difference to me. But you’re going to support Kace through this. And the day will come when your little boy will be born. And every fucking one of us will love him – because he’s part of you, and he’s part of Kace. Now, you ready to ride or you want me to wad you up into another ball and cut you this time?” maintaining eye contact, he bent down and stepped on the cigarette.

“A-Train?” I asked.

“What is it, brother?” he raised his eyebrows and smiled, waiting for me to continue.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and said the only thing I could think of that accurately described how I felt.

“I’m scared.”

As I spoke, I began to cry.

“Been there plenty of times, Dekk. Generally, I’ll ask the man upstairs for spoon full of courage. He hasn’t let me down yet,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me.

As he held me in his arms, I continued to cry. And I came to understand there are times when we’re incapable of understanding life entirely. When the time comes, all we can do is hope we have friends and family to guide us in the direction we may not be able to see in their absence. As he released me from his grasp, he patted me on the shoulder.

“Let’s ride,” I said as I wiped the tears from my eyes.

“You lead the way, brother,” he hesitated and grinned, “I’ve got your back.”

And there was no doubt in my mind he meant exactly what he said.

KACE
. I truly believe the greatest gift God has ever given me was Shane Dekkar. He changed my life and allowed me to see things in myself I would have never seen without his guidance. He taught me what love was truly about, and how to accept it without becoming self-possessed. Today, I am a truly different person, and I have Shane to thank for opening my eyes. And although he is the greatest gift ever, he’s like any other gift; he can be returned for a refund if he doesn’t quite fit.

Standing just inside the doorway, unshaven, filthy, and tattered, he attempted to plead with me, “Babe, I’m sorry.”

At the edge of the kitchen island, I looked up from my making my sandwich, “Don’t you dare
babe
me.”

“You didn’t go on a ride with the boys, Shane. You didn’t get drunk and end up at a titty bar. Hell, you could have cheated on me and I’d have felt better. No Shane, you left me. You fucking
left,
” I hesitated, picked up my sandwich, and gazed down at the bread as I squeezed it angrily in my hands.

I looked toward where he stood and cleared my throat, “You know what kind of bread this is?”

He stared at me blankly.

“I asked you a question, Shane. Do you know what kind of bread this is?” I shouted.

He shook his head slowly.

I swallowed heavily and cleared my very emotional throat once again, “Honey wheat. You know why?”

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“Because I
like
it. And I don’t have to buy that multi-grain dirty tasting whole wheat healthy assed bullshit bread, Shane. Do you know why?” I raised the sandwich to my mouth and took a huge bite.

Before he had the chance to answer, I spoke as I chewed, “Because
you
like it. And
you
don’t live here any longer.”

“Baby…” he began to try to reason with me.

“I told you once, don’t
baby
me. Do you have any idea how hard this has been? Do you?” I asked as I walked out of the kitchen and toward the dining room.

“I can only imagine,” he said softly as he began to walk into the house.

I stopped half way into the dining area and pointed toward where he stood, “
Stop right there
. Do not come in
my
house, Shane. And you’re right, you can only
imagine
. And I’ll tell you why. Because you weren’t here to see how hard it was; you were gone.
Gone.
You could have been dead. Some nights I wished you were. You know Ripp’s gonna kick your ass. You know that, right? He is. You know why?
Because he cares
.”

“Kace, I love you. I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I sat down on the couch and took another bite of my sandwich as I watched him shift his weight back and forth on his feet. Standing there in his shitty boots and a pair of ragged blue jeans, he looked like a homeless man. I loved him with all my heart, but what he had done was insensitive, uncaring, and it hurt. Especially now, when I truly needed him to be here for me, it was painful. A far different pain from being hit, kicked, or slapped – it was an emotional pain from having the man you love not meet an expectation you probably took for granted.

“Let me come hold you,” he whined.

“Oh hell no. No sir, you won’t do any such thing,” I shook my head as I swallowed my food.

“
Hold me?
I don’t want you to
touch
me. You’re a stranger to me, Shane. I don’t even know who you are. I would have never guessed.
Never.
It’s been six weeks, Shane. Six weeks – a month and a half,” I looked up toward the ceiling and counted.

As the anger built up inside of me, I stood, “Forty-two fucking days, Shane. Forty-two nights. You want to know who’s been taking me to my appointments?”

He shrugged his shoulders again and nodded his head sheepishly.

Standing with my sandwich clenched in my hand, I felt as if I was going to start to cry. As I fought back tears, I squeezed my sandwich tighter.

I cleared my throat and raised my voice a little, “Well, I can tell you who it
wasn’t
. It wasn’t you. Vee. Vee took me sometimes. And Ripp, he drove me. And guess what else he did, Shane? He held me when I cried. And he told me he loved me. And guess what Ripp didn’t do? Ripp
didn’t
fucking leave me.”

I threw my half-eaten sandwich at him and began to cry.

He dodged the sandwich and started to walk toward me.

“Don’t. I mean it. Right now I don’t want you to touch me,” I cried as I pointed in his direction.

I reached up and wiped the tears from my eyes with the palms of my hands as I tried to regain my composure. “Right now,” I paused.

“Right now, I want you to hurt. I want you to feel the pain you put me through, you insensitive prick. You know what Shane? You taught me how to stand up for myself. And guess what? Guess what? I’m doing just that,” I hesitated, wiped my eyes again, and attempted to swallow.

I pointed toward the door he stood in front of, “Get out of my house, now.
Get.
Go stay with Ripp. Or Alec. Or in the gym. Or wherever you’ve been for the last six weeks. But tonight? Tonight you’re not welcome here, because this is
my
house, mine and my baby’s.”

“I just…” he began to say softly.

“Get!” I shouted as I pointed toward the door.

Slowly, he turned and opened the door. After he stepped onto the porch, he turned to face me. His eyes swollen from tears, and his face covered with a look of shame, he gazed into the house blankly – as if in shock.

“Shut the door, I’ll lock it after you’re gone,” I said as I flopped onto the couch.

As the sound of his motorcycle disappeared, I began to sob. If Shane Dekkar was going to be included in my life, he was going to do so because I felt it was something I desperately needed. Something I couldn’t live without.

Not something I
wanted
.

And as I lie on the couch sobbing, I realized something completely.

I wanted Shane.

SHANE.
“Well, I’m just glad you aren’t dead. Hell, nobody heard a damned word for a couple of months. I checked every day for a few weeks – maybe a month or so. Finally gave up hope.”

In many respects, Kelsey had become somewhat of an uncle to me. I looked at Ripp’s father as my father, and Kelsey as more of an uncle. I had grown to admire and respect him, and as I sat on his couch I began to realize just what it was I had put everyone through with my insensitive behavior.

“I’m sorry boss,” I sighed as I raised my hands to my face.

“I suspect you are – and rightfully so. Based on what you said, I can’t tell ya how I would have reacted. I don’t suppose I know for sure, that’s a tough pill to swallow. I’d like to think I wouldn’t have up and left Kace, though. She’s a damn fine woman, kid,” he said as he patted my knee with his hand and stood from the couch.

“You know you’re always welcome here. You need to shower though, you stink to high heaven. Have you got clean clothes on that bike of yours?” he asked.

I stood from the couch and lifted the neck of my tee shirt to my nose, “Sure don’t boss. I have a bag strapped to it, but everything’s dirty.”

“Well, I have sweats and a tee shirt might fit you. Shirt will be a little tight, but it’s clean. Let me get ‘em,” he said as he turned toward the hallway.

He had not yet asked about the fight. Although I imagine it was on the top of the list of things he wished to discuss, he didn’t bring it up. Standing in the house with him now, I felt as if I let him down. Kelsey’s life had been devoted to training boxers. The dream of every trainer is no different than the dream of every boxer – to make it to some form of championship fight. To make it to the Heavyweight Championship of the World is the equivalent of winning the World Series or the Super Bowl. To have something so deeply desired within his reach, and take it from his grasp was inconsiderate of me as well.

I suppose we never truly know how we’ll react to a given situation until it presents itself. In this particular circumstance, I sure seemed to make an absolute ass of myself. From an outsider’s view looking in, I would be perceived as an insensitive, self-centered, selfish, inconsiderate asshole. In recalling where I’d been for the last six weeks and what I’d gone through – without any form of contact with my friends and family – I’d have to say I agree. To describe myself as selfish would be an understatement.

Kelsey walked out into the living room with his arms full of bedding and clothes.

“Making a place to stay in here will be much easier than cleaning out one of the rooms. You can sleep on the couch,” he said as he dumped the contents onto the cushion beside me.

“Here’s pillows, sheets, sweats, a tee shirt, and a pair of boxers. Don’t bitch,” he paused.

“The skivvies are new, not used,” he chuckled as he dropped them beside me.

“Thanks boss,” I said as I looked down at the pile he had dropped.

“And there’s a clean razor in the bathroom on the sink. Shaving cream is under the sink. You need to shave, kid. You look like hell,” he grinned as he rubbed his face with his fingertips.

I tilted my head his direction and attempted to smile. Feeling rather embarrassed regarding everything, I grabbed the sweats and boxer shorts and slowly walked toward the bathroom. A shower should relax me and allow me to think for the rest of the night with a clear mind. The eight hour ride from Anthony to Austin was far from relaxing, and I needed to wash the road tar, bugs, and six weeks of sorrow from my skin.

After shaving and taking a long hot shower, I felt revived and full of guilt. As if the soap and water washed the feelings of sorrow and misery away, I was left standing cleansed and filled with shame. In walking into the living room, I noticed Kelsey had taken the time to convert the couch into his best representation of a bed.

Tired and regretful for everything I had done, I lowered myself to the couch, pressed my head into the pillow, and immediately fell asleep.

The referee held our hands at our sides as the sound from the overhead speaker wailed noise I wasn’t able to comprehend.

I could feel the crowd chanting, but wasn’t able to understand the meaning behind their repeated screams.

The echo from the overhead speaker caused the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

The crowd went silent.

And the winner…by knockout…and still the Heavyweight Champion of the World - Tyson Tick-Tock Brock. Sharply, I felt the referee tug the hand of the man standing beside me into the air. Embarrassed, I turned to face the crowd. One side of the arena was filled with unfamiliar faces – the friends and family of my opponent. I turned to the other side of the arena and blinked my eyes.

Empty.

Completely empty.

I sat up on the couch and wiped the sweat from my face. The dream seemed very vivid and realistic. Still confused and uncertain of what had just happened, I walked down the hallway toward Kelsey’s bedroom.

“Hey boss,” I said as I knocked on the half-open door.

“Hey boss,” I said as I knocked again.

“Shit, what is it kid?” he said as he sat up in bed.

“Call Brock’s manager.
Or whoever.
I want that fight. As soon as we can get it organized,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, hell. I knew you’d come around, kid. We’ll call them first thing in the morning,” he responded groggily.

“First thing?” I asked.

“Yep. I’ll call them right after breakfast,” he responded.

I nodded my head and smiled without speaking. As I walked back to the couch I considered the fight and what it meant to me. It wasn’t a gold championship belt hanging on my bed post, or the framed cover of a Sports Illustrated magazine on the wall over the fireplace that drove me toward wanting to fight for the championship. Not any longer.

It was meeting the expectation of those who loved me.

As I sat on the edge of the couch, I reached up and clenched my dog tags in my hand and prayed.

It’s me again. I know I come to you often, but I imagine that’s much better than not coming at all.

I need some help.

I’ve abandoned my friends and family and everyone who cares about me because I was scared, selfish, and I had lost faith in everything and everyone; including you.

Help me make decisions based on what’s best for those around me. The rest, I’m sure, will take care of itself.

And as far as our little boy goes, I’m okay with whatever happens. As long as he’s born alive, I’ll be just fine with whoever he is or becomes.

You see, I know now, and I never quite looked at it this way before, but whatever happens, I can live with. I can make sense of it all. You give me a son, and I’ll give him the best father the world has ever known.

Ultimately I know everything will be fine, because…

I paused, sniffed, and tilted my head toward the sky.

You got this.