Fight 3 Read online

  “Gwynn, you okay?” Molly’s voice breaks my flashback to one of the darkest days of my life.

  The day Eddie almost didn’t make it. The phone call when I was getting my wings, the wings that now mean so much more to me since they represent the past, present, and future... the call was from the hospital. I was on speed dial for the nurses, in case anything changed with Eddie while I was gone. As much as I want to be there with him every minute of every day, someone had to keep up with the new house, the bills, and I needed to get out... just for my sanity.

  I remember checking my voicemail after I walked out of the tattoo shop, walking down the sidewalk towards my car.

  “Gwynn, you need to call the hospital. Shit, hang on....” There’s commotion in the background, then the doctor comes back to the phone briefly. “You need to come in, Gwynn.”

  The call ends just as fast as it begun. Heart racing, I speed to the hospital without a fucking seatbelt, one of the dumbest things ever, and park in the emergency spot. Running inside to the ICU, I slam my hand on the desk, yelling for Rita, Eddie’s nurse.

  “Rita! Rita! Fuck,” I yell as I see there is no one around.

  That’s when I hear the commotion at the end of the hall. Eddie’s end of the hall.

  “No,” I gasp as I run towards his door.

  Looking through the glass into his room, I see his arm, but other than that I can’t see anything. There are so many doctors and nurses in the room, the beeping speeding up from the machine.

  “Gwynn, you shouldn’t be watching this,” Eric, one of the floor nurses looks at me sadly.

  “How long has this been going on?” I whisper, putting my hand on my stomach to remind myself I can’t have a meltdown right now. I need to be strong.

  “About a half hour. They can’t get his heart rate to lower. Doll, please walk away from this. Go grab a drink, or some food. I’ll keep you updated.”

  I glance at him, then look back in the room. As I go to turn away, I hear the beeping flat line and almost puke. No, no, no Eddie. Not now, baby. Turning back to the window, Eric tries pulling me away but he stays far enough away from me, since the first time he tried to hold me back I punched him.

  “No, baby,” I cry, as I see them get the paddles out to bring his heart beat back. “Fight, you asshole. Jesus, Eddie. Fucking fight!” I yell at the window as Eric’s arms come around me.

  “Stop! He’s not dying today! JESUS CHRIST, EDDIE, FIGHT BACK!” I scream at the window the same words he screamed at me when he snapped me out of my fight with Tanya. Those words still haunt my dreams every night.

  I am fighting, Eddie. I’ll never stop fighting.

  Suddenly the beeping levels out again, bringing all normal noises back. The room goes still, watching the monitors for what seems like forever. The door opens and a few of the night shift workers walk out, giving me a pat on the shoulder as they head off to do their rounds.

  Eric still has a hold of me, arms wrapped around my front, and I’m holding on to him like it’s all I can do to stay upright.

  “You need to get some rest, Gwynn,” he whispers.

  “I need to be right fucking here, Eric.” I say, pulling myself out of his arms and walking to Eddie’s room to talk to the doctor.

  “Hello? Earth to Gwynn?” Molly’s voice pulls me out again and I look around to see I’m on the couch in our living room.

  “What the hell happened?” I say, rubbing my tired eyes.

  “You blacked out, woman. I had to carry your fat ass to the couch.” She huffs, then grins sadly at me. “Another flashback?”

  “Yea,” I say, taking the water she hands me to drink.

  Molly and Tatum have been my lifeline since the accident. A week after the accident we closed on the house that Eddie wanted to buy for me. Tatum took care of all of it, and honestly I don’t know how he did it. I was in such a bad place at the time. I wouldn’t leave the hospital, I wouldn’t eat. I only got fluids because they threatened to put an IV in me for the baby’s sake. I just remember telling him the name of our realtor and the closing date. I guess he took care of it, setting up payments to Eddie’s account. I haven’t asked about it, but he’s never asked for money so I guess it’s all taken care of.

  Since the day Eddie flat lined, I’ve been to visit him every single day. Every other night I stay the night with him, talking to him, sleeping in bed next to him. The first few nights the nurses tried to stop me, but the growl that came out of me each time they came near stopped them. The night’s I’m not there, Tatum or Molly is. We don’t leave him alone for long.

  What if he were to wake up and no one was there? He might not remember anyone, he might be scared. I don’t want that. For anyone.

  “Have you heard from Jase, Gwynn?” Molly asks, obviously worried that that’s what triggered my flashback.

  “Not since the accident,” I growl. I haven’t stopped looking for him everywhere I go, though. That ass-clown deserves the worst punishment ever, and if I ever find him, I’ll make sure he pays. His car was the one that caused Eddie’s accident. Apparently I didn’t know my friend all that well after all.

  “Tatum’s been looking for him. Ever since Mac took off, it looks like Jase dropped off the face of the planet.”

  Ah Mac. Good old, mother fucking Mac.

  I never did fight again for him. The day after Eddie’s crash, Mac showed up at the hospital threatening me because I missed showing up for the fight he had scheduled. He met Tatum’s fist, then the back of Tatum’s car. I’ve been told he took him to his dad’s warehouse and talked some sense into him. I’ve also been told Mac couldn’t walk straight for weeks after what Tatum did to him. All I know is that he isn’t in the state of Texas anymore, and I am never getting in the ring for that man again. If I could, I would find him and have him taken down for real, but all I can do for now is be happy that he’s out of my life.

  Every now and then I miss the rush of fighting. I can’t go back to Dave now that I’m so far along, so I really don’t have a release when the anger and sadness gets to be too much. One day I’ll be able to get my release again, but right now things just fucking suck. I’ve been training in my spare time, but I don’t have any clients really ready to fight yet. The local MMA League contacted me about a week after Mac left town, expressing their condolences for Eddie and our situation, then switched into business mode. Apparently, somehow, they had heard of me and were insanely impressed. When I told them about the pregnancy and the fact that I won’t be fighting anymore, they didn’t relent. They offered me a spot training locals. More of a side gig right now, but it’s helping pass the lonely days.

  Tonight I’m going to the hospital. Tonight I’ll sleep next to my fiancé. Tonight I’ll tell him all about the baby’s room, all about Molly trying to inundate the house with bright pink things. I’ll laugh at myself because no one else will be there to respond.

  Tonight I’ll fall asleep next to a man who doesn’t even know I’m there.

  He’s worth it, though. I’ll never stop fighting for him.

  Chapter 12

  Eddie

  Jesus fucking Christ, how much did I drink last night?

  I try to move my arm but it’s being held down my something. Oh God, the pain.

  What the hell?

  Prying my eyes open, the bright lights kill my retinas and I close them and sigh.

  “Fuck,” I manage a whisper. I really must have drank way too fucking much last night.

  Never again.

  “Eddie?” a voice asks.

  The hell?

  “Mmm?” God dammit my throat is so dry.

  “MY GOD!!! EDDIE!!” The bed bounces, sending my body into a fit of fucking pain

  Throwing my eyes open, I glare at the outline of the culprit. What the fuck?

  “God DAMMIT! Get the fuck out! What the hell?!” I yell, cursing the pain running through my goddamned body. Closing my eyes, I lay my head back on the pillow and pray for the throbbing to go away. “On y
our way out, you should bring me some aspirin. Fuck,” I grumble.

  “What?” She sounds like I offended her. Well good, she fucking offends me just being here this morning.

  I don’t do this shit. I don’t do sleep overs and I’m pretty sure I told her that last night before bringing her back here. At least I think I did. I really can’t remember anything at all from last night.

  Shit, man. This is the worst it’s ever been.

  “Eddie, it’s me. Gwynn. Red.” Her voice is sweet, but sounds sad, and from what my eyes are letting me focus on, her face is beautiful, but that fucking bump. My sight isn’t the best right now, but that bump is unmistakable.

  Shit, I fucked a pregnant chick?

  I groan and attempt to move my hands to rub the grog off of my face, but I can’t get them up. Matter of fact, I’m having a hard time moving any part of my body.

  “What the hell?” I say, looking down at my body that isn’t cooperating with me.

  I don’t have white sheets.

  And why the hell is this bed so small?

  Taking a breath. I hear beeps, but it doesn’t register what they are. I close my eyes and count to ten, something that I used to have to do every time the pain got too bad. Opening them again after I’ve calmed down, the room is silent again, and I let my eyes focus on the sheets before looking up.

  Slowly, carefully, I look around me and realize this isn’t my room I’m in. It’s not anyone’s bedroom.

  It’s a mother fucking hospital room.

  Finding the woman that jumped out of my bed standing in the corner of the room, I pin her with my gaze and growl at her.

  “What the fuck is going on here?”

  Her eyes are wide and she opens her mouth to talk, but nothing comes out. She just stands there in shock, shaking her head, tears rolling down her face.

  Great, another weak bitch. Way to pick ‘em Eddie.

  Just then the door opens and three doctors, or what I assume are doctors, since I’m in a fucking hospital, come rushing in.

  “Mr. Roe, you woke up,” one of them says curiously, while the other two check papers and machines around me. The machines I’m fucking hooked up to.

  “What the hell is going on?” I demand, glaring at the damn girl in the corner.

  Who is this chick? Why is the fact that I don’t recognize her eating at me?

  “Oh... um, wow. Okay, sir can you tell me your name?” the doctor standing at the foot of my bed asks.

  The other two schmucks that followed him in freeze what they are doing and stare at him, wide-eyed.

  “Eddie fucking Roe. What the FUCK is going on!?” I yell, trying to move my arms again, but nothing I do will make them move. “Shit!”

  “Mr. Roe, tell me what you remember.”

  “What the hell do you mean ‘what I remember’, I fucking passed out and must have fucked a random chick in the hospital.”

  It sounds asinine saying it out loud, but there’s no other fucking option. Why else would she have been in this bed? I sure as hell don’t remember her, but she seems to have some sort of fucking connection to me. Fucking pregnant chicks. So fucking emotional.

  “Ah, ok. Gwynn, can you follow me outside, please?” He smiles genuinely at the girl and she wipes her tears, stands up straight and walks out of the room, eyeballing me the entire time.

  “When can I go home?” I grumble to the male nurse on the side of the bed.

  “Mr. Roe, the doctor will discuss everything with you when he gets back in shortly.”

  Great, being shoved off by the gay male nurse. Wonderful, I just need to get back to my apartment.

  Savage. He’ll be able to pull the strings to get me out of here.

  “Where’s my phone?” I ask, looking around the room. Jesus, this room is fancy. Who the hell is paying for this? Certainly not me? I didn’t want to end up here, so whoever brought me here is fucking paying for this shit.

  “Sir, sit back, you just woke up....” He trails off as the doctor walks back into the room alone.

  My curiosity gets the best of me and I glance out the window to see if the girl is still out in the hallway. She looked pissed, and sad, and there was just something about her I couldn’t put my finger on. She’s not there anymore, though, so I focus back on the doctor who’s grabbing the chair from across the room and pulling it closer to my bed.

  “Eddie, tell me what you remember. Please,” he gently asks.

  I sigh and lay my head back on the table. Trying my hardest to remember something, but all I’m coming up with is shit from last week with work, and shit from my childhood. Nothing that would bring me here. Nothing worthwhile telling the good old doc.

  “Nothing. I remember no reason as to why I would be in this bed, unable to move my goddamned body.” I growl, pissed that I’m so fucking weak.

  The beeping starts again and I realize this time that it’s the heart rate monitor. Closing my eyes again, I count to ten and let my breath out, calming myself and the monitor.

  “Can we fucking turn that thing down? It’s pissing me off and I have a headache.”

  “Absolutely,” he says, and nods at the female nurse still in the room.

  She could be hot, but the scrubs she’s wearing is hiding a lot of parts of her I’d like to explore more. I grin at her and she tucks her head and walks out of the room.

  Huh. Never had that reaction on a woman before.

  “Eddie, you just woke up from a four month coma.” He watches me carefully for a reaction, something to tell him I’m okay.

  “Excuse me? Is this a joke? Where’s Savage, I need to leave. Fuck! Why can’t I fucking move?!” Throwing my head back on the pillow, I close my eyes and will myself to wake up.

  A coma? That shit doesn’t happen, and waking up like I did especially doesn’t. Looking around, I take in the room while the doctor’s voice drones on.

  There are flowers on the side table, but they look almost dead. Balloons litter the far side of the room, some newer looking, and some older looking. Some completely deflated. I see a blanket thrown on the sofa near my bed, with two very used looking pillows. Someone’s been sleeping in here with me.

  “What the hell?” I whisper to myself.

  “Eddie have you been listening to me?”

  “No. I’m trying to figure out what the hell is going on, DOC,” I say sarcastically. A part of me feels bad for him, but I can’t care about that right now. I need to get out of here. I can’t do hospitals.

  “Listen, Eddie. You were in a car accident. It’s been four months. You friends have been here to see you every day, your fiancé-”

  “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?” I boom at his fucking NUTS notion of me being engaged.

  “Gwynn. The girl. Eddie, you remember none of this, do you?”

  “Fucking right I don’t!” I make a move to move my arm, and this time it obliges.

  Slowly, I move my hand to my face to rub all the crazy away, and then I feel my face. The hair. No, no, no, no, this can’t be. I move my hand to my head and cringe when I feel my longer hair. Oh god, no. No, I can’t be turning into him. NO, this isn’t happening.

  “Is there someone you remember, someone you would be able to talk to, Mr. Roe?” the doctor asks hopefully.

  There’s only one person I trust. One person I will listen to.

  “Get me Savage,” I growl at him. “I’m fucking tired. I’m taking a nap.”

  I hear his sigh, then slowly get up. I hear him writing something in my chart, then the door opens and closes behind him.

  “Asshole,” I spit out, then close my eyes to try and wake up from this fucking nightmare.

  Chapter 13

  Gwynn

  Amnesia.

  They are calling it retrograde amnesia, because he definitely remembers who he used to be, before me. I laugh at myself for thinking things would go back to normal after he woke up. Stupid, Gwynn. Really fucking stupid.

  “What’s so funny?” Eric asks as he hand
s me a coffee and sits next to me.

  Eric is insanely flamboyant and brilliantly handsome. I wish I were a dude just so I’d have a chance with him. Hell, at this point I wish I had a chance with anyone, but the only man I want doesn’t even remember me. In fact, I’m certain he hates me.

  “It’s funny. I’ve been fighting so fucking hard to get through this in one piece, and all it takes is one look from him to feel split in two. He didn’t even fucking recognize me, Eric. The look of disgust in his eyes was clear as day when he looked at HIS OWN CHILD growing inside of me!”

  I didn’t think I had any tears left after these last four months of crying myself to sleep at night, but apparently I was wrong.

  “Oh baby, no... Sweetheart, come here,” he whispers as he pulls me into him.

  I cry, harder than I cried in a very long time. My body shaking from the tears escaping me. The tears don’t let up until I feel Molly’s hand on my back. I know it’s her, she’s always there when I need her.

  “Hey, hun, you ok?” she looks curiously at Eric, who is shaking his head slightly at her.

  “Gwynn, what’s wrong?” Tatum presses on, not giving me the fucking time to catch my breath.

  “Tatum, give her a minute,” Molly chides.

  I know this whole thing is taking a toll on them. Molly is the one piece holding everything together. Tatum could fall apart any minute, and looks like it recently. I’m certainly not stable, but I’m getting there.

  “He doesn’t remember me,” I whisper, trying to control my damned emotions.

  “What are you talking about?” Tatum’s glare softens and he kneels down by me and Molly. “Gwynn, what doesn’t he remember?”

  I take a breath and explain everything. From hearing him wake up confused, mad. Then the look he gave me, the things he said. He doesn’t remember me whatsoever.

  “The doctor told me he has retrograde amnesia. That he remembers things from his past, but not things from his recent past. He said sometimes events like his, severe head trauma, can completely wipe out years of a person’s life.”

  “How long until it comes back?” Molly asks innocently and I laugh at her.