Standing in a cloud of dust I watch as Tate drives away. Again. My heart is beating against my chest hard, my stomach twisted in knots. I thought my longing for Tate grew into hate these past years. That was until I just saw her. I miss her and hate her. I wanted to grab her and pull her into me, but I also wanted to pull her by the fucking hair out of my gym.
I never thought I’d see her again, but I envisioned it.
It pretty much went how I planned. Pissing her off.
I wanted her to hurt as much as I did when she up and left in the middle of the night four fucking years ago.
She promised to call me everyday, that we’d see each other every weekend. None of that happened.
She’s a fucking liar.
The most beautiful ones are though. They’re like flowers. Gorgeous on the outside, but once you get close, you find out they’re just as poisonous.
“Who was that?” I turn finding Chase standing there with an amused grin on his face. His dark long hair wet as if he’d just showered. How long had he been standing there?
“Nobody,” I respond flatly.
“Oh that was somebody, and when I say that I mean that was some body. Fuck she’s sexy!“
“Stop while you’re ahead.” I hold my hand up, glowering at him. Inside my chest my heart beats wildly with a jealous urge. I could beat on my chest and roar right now. Which is fucking stupid, because Tate is not mine. She made that very clear.
“She yours?” He walks backwards stepping into the gym.
Lowering my head, I close my eyes trying to calm my racing heart. Chase is a different kind of man, he’s one that is unstable, and laced with a violent nature. I’m no saint, but the difference is I’m aware of my transgressions, he thinks he’s completely normal. He’s been training for a couple years now. No trainer will put him in a ring after seeing his true colors in practice. He’s a bloodbath waiting to happen.
“No, just … stay away from her,” I whisper.
Looking out of the corner of my eye I find him staring at me oddly.
“We still on for Big Pete’s tonight?” He changes the subject. I give a silent nod. The guy has his issues, but he’s relentless when it comes to wanting to hang out.
“Camden! You set up that fight that the MFC was offering?“ Thomas asks with a hopeful grin on his face.
“No.” Thomas and Kaley are always planning shit behind my back. When will they get it in their heads I’m not going back into the ring?
“Son, seriously, how long are we going to do this for? You gotta get back in the ring, it’s your calling. Just like coaching is mine.” Thomas runs his hands through his hair aggravated.
“What did that girl want?” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder.
He rolls his eyes.
“Wants me to train her, I told her no but before I knew it I was in a bet with her that she’d tap out.” He shakes his head. “She didn’t tap out surprisingly, she’s a tough lil’ Gal.” He shakes his head again, looking at the front door as if she is still here. I can’t have Tate in my gym, I can’t have her here.
“You are not training her.” I raise my brows ready to go head to head with him on this.
“Hey, a bet’s a bet man,” Cate cuts in, her hands on her hips.
“I don’t give a shit about a bet. You’re my trainer Thomas, we have a contract and you training anyone else is breaking that.”
“Well, then I suggest you figure something else out because you made a fucking bet!” Cate’s face turns bright red, as she steps up to me. Cate is the nutritionist around here, and she’s great at what she does but she is a little headstrong sometimes. Especially when it comes to women doing what men can do.
“Why do you even care?” I shrug.
“Because, you guys have it your tiny little heads, and I’m not talking about the one on your shoulders, that you are so much more mighty than women. That girl,” she points at the front door, “she’s the next big thing, mark my words,” Cate states. I only saw part of the fight, but it doesn’t surprise me that Tate is good at fighting. It was what she always wanted to do.
“I’ll figure something out, keep your skirt on.” Thomas holds both his hands up in surrender.
“See, it’s that kind of shit right there Thomas.” Cate points at Thomas.
“I’m going to go get taped up, meet me in the ring in ten. I need to hit something,” I inform Thomas. I gotta get this frustration out, and now.
“Motivated, I like it!” Thomas grins.
“Yeah, something like that.”
Chapter Four
9 Years Old
Camden
Biting on my inner cheek I look around the backyard. There’s red and blue balloons, a cake with two fighters on it, and a few presents.
“Damn it!” My mother’s voice echoes with a hint of frustration. I bet I left my bowl of cereal on the counter again, and she knocked it over.
Furrowing my brows I head toward the back door leading into our kitchen.
“What’s wrong Mom?”