Inked Fighter: Complete Collection (MMA MC New Adult Romance) (17 page)

Chapter Two: Claire

I went home, heart beating into a million broken pieces. I thought everything would be better. I thought we would be together again. Even in the days I’d spent hating him for his lies, I knew deep down that I’d take him back. After he pushed me away, the reality of the gaping pit between us revealed itself.

When I got home, Zoe was in the living room with Rose. Bradly jumped in my path, but I ignored them all. I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door. I needed to let my sorrow out before it choked me. I just wanted him back. I wanted to feel his strong body against mine. I wanted to smell the scent of his skin and bury myself inside the safe, warm place against his chest.

I threw myself into my pillow and sobbed. I couldn’t blame anyone anymore. I couldn’t even blame myself. All I could feel was blinding pain. I didn’t know what I would do without him. I’d let him get tangled inside my heart, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him out. Even in the short time we’d been together, he’d left an indelible imprint on me.

The door cracked open and Zoe peeked through.

“Are you all right?”

“No. I’m not. I’m not all right.”

“What happened?”

“He told me he’s leaving and asked me to go away.”

“Crap. I’m sorry. That really sucks. I thought you guys made a great couple.”

A picture of us walking together down the beach flashed through my mind, and I sobbed into the pillow again. Rose pushed through the door with Bradly behind her. The dog jumped on the bed and licked my face. Rose tried climbing up to me but was still too short to make it. Their antics made me laugh in spite of everything. I lifted Rose up to me and pushed Bradly off the bed.

“You need ice cream,” said Zoe.

“Why?”

“That’s what they always do in the movies, isn’t it? Eat ice cream after the breakup scene.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want ice cream. I didn’t want anything. All I wanted was to sleep for the rest of my life. “Fine,” I said, halfheartedly. Zoe brought a carton of rocky road from the freezer, and we ate it on the bed. I shoveled bites into Rose’s mouth. As everyone got sugar high, I did start to feel better, I had to admit. As long as I didn’t think about it too much, I’d be okay.

For a week, all I thought about was work. If I thought about Damien, I’d crack. I sat next to the computer and printed shipping labels for my latest sales. Rose toddled around the living room floor and pulled a stack of Zoe’s magazines off the coffee table. I glanced at her to make sure she wasn’t ripping them up. I doubted Zoe would appreciate Rose’s destroying her current collection.

When I finished writing down addresses, I scooped the magazines off the floor and put them on the kitchen table, out of Rose’s reach. Rose shrieked that I’d taken her new toys. We can’t always have everything we want, now can we?

I picked her up and put her in her high chair for lunch. I made her a fruit salad with a slice of whole-wheat toast. I watched her eat, but I had no appetite. I felt hollow. The idea of never seeing Damien again made my whole body ache.

When she finished eating, I put Rose in her playpen, to her dismay, and pulled out a handful of shipping boxes from the post office. I went to my bedroom and took the freshly sewn and pressed dresses off their hangers, and brought them to the kitchen table.

With a piece of tissue paper, I folded each dress into an individual box. Checking my mailing list, I carefully attached the shipping labels to the boxes and taped them closed. So far, I’d been able to keep up with my shipping and sewing schedule without a problem.

The reviews were coming in for my shop, and they were all glowing. There were also requests for other types of clothing — skirts, blouses, shorts, and light pants. It was a solid consolation after losing Damien. If I couldn’t have him, at least I was successful.

I carried the boxes out to the car, and Bradly ran into the house from outside. When I got back inside, he was chewing on a rawhide bone in his bed. I lifted Rose from her playpen, grabbed my purse, and locked the door. On the way to town, I saw Regan walking home down our gravel road. She wore really short shorts and a ripped tank top. Her hair looked wild and frizzy. Her clothes were dirty and torn. I rolled down the window and leaned my head out.

“Regan, what’s going on?”

“I’m going home.”

“Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer me. Her eyes were glazed over. I could see fresh pinpricks on her arms. I wanted to stop the car and shake her until she came to her senses. Fear trickled down my throat and burned in my stomach. Did Regan even have any senses left? Would she always be like this? Would she get progressively worse until the sister I knew no longer existed even in my memory?

“Regan?” My voice was too quiet to be heard over the rumble of the motor. I slammed my palm into the steering wheel and cursed my mother for leaving us. I needed her now. I needed someone to help me bring my sister back. I’d lost too many people I loved already — Mom, Jessy, Damien. I wouldn’t lose Regan too.

“Regan, get in the car. I’ll give you a ride home,” I shouted through the window.

She didn’t answer me and just kept walking in the opposite direction.
Damn it
. I had to get the boxes in the mail. I couldn’t force her in the car. I’d be back in an hour.

I grunted with frustration, rolled my eyes, and continued to town. Zoe was tired of Regan. She had less tolerance for it Regan’s behavior and less empathy. Zoe was a good person, but she was a pragmatist. For her it just made sense to evict the nuisance. I, on the other hand, couldn’t let her go — even if it might be better for everyone. It wouldn’t be better for Regan.

I drove into town, my jaw set and tense, and I pulled into the post office parking lot. With Rose on one hip and my boxes on the other, I struggled through the glass front doors.

At the counter, I paid for my shipping labels and chatted with the postal worker for a few moments about my shipments. She wanted to take a look at my dresses, so I told her how to find my website.

After the post office, I stopped at the grocery store and then drove back home. When I pulled up in the driveway, Regan was sitting on the front porch rocking back and forth, hugging her knees.

I jumped out of the car and went to her, daring to put my arm around her shoulders.

“Regan, what’s wrong?”

“I was locked out.”

Tears rolled down her face. She turned toward me and pulled me into a tight hug. I let myself hold her. I wanted to hold her. I wished my love could make all the badness go away. I wished I could heal her with my desire to see her happy. I let everything flood into her through my embrace, praying to God that somehow that would help.

Rose wailed from the car. Regan pulled away and wept into her knees. Her depression could be worse than her mania, and twice as dangerous.

I ran to the car and grabbed Rose before I went back to unlock the door. Bradly ran outside and licked Regan’s armpit. She twisted away and continued to cry. After I put Rose in her playpen, I gently pulled Regan into the house, where she collapsed on the couch.

The phone rang.

“Hey, it’s me, Zoe. I’m going to work a double tonight. I know we’re doing better moneywise, but I really want to get a cell phone, so go ahead and make dinner without me, okay?”

“Sure. Don’t work too hard.”

“What’s wrong?”

I walked into my bedroom with the mobile phone.

“It’s Regan. She’s crying. She came home a mess. I was on my way to the post office, so I had to leave. When I got back, she was sitting on the porch totally depressed that the door was locked. I’m worried. You know. She gets weird, different weird, when she’s depressed.”

“Oh God. I know how you feel about this, Claire, but she has to decide she wants to get better. You can’t keep using yourself as a shield for her. You’re going to get hit.”

“I know, Zoe. I just can’t let her go. I miss her. The real Regan. The old Regan. I want her back. I know she’s in there somewhere.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I think it’s time to face facts.”

“I’m not going to kick her out. I have to get her to go to the hospital. She has to get clean, get back on her meds. I’m not going to let her drift away. It isn’t going to happen. I’ve lost too many people already.”

“I understand,” Zoe said, sighing. “I’m glad you’re my sister. I love you.”

“Ahhh, Zoe.”

“I’ve got to go. I’m getting that fucking phone!”

“Okay, sweetie. Bye.”

When I hung up, I became aware of the sound of intense sobbing intermixed with Rose’s high-pitched wails. I ran into the living room to find Regan crying uncontrollably on the couch. She writhed around in the fetal position, her hands contorting as if she was trying to crawl out of her own skin. Was she coming down from drugs? Was she just depressed? I didn’t know what to do.

I pulled Rose out of the playpen and bounced her until she quieted. At least I could comfort my baby. I wished there was someone I could call, someone who could come over. My first thought was of Damien. Knowing I could never depend on him again burned me to the core, and a hint of panic sunk in my stomach.

“Are you hungry, Regan?” I asked, trying to get some control of the situation. She didn’t answer. What was wrong? What was going through her mind? “Can I do something? Can I help?”

She still didn’t answer, but the crying grew quieter. I got Rose a cup of juice and sat down on the floor, flipping on the TV. I figured if I couldn’t help her, at least I could be with her.

There was a soap opera on the network station. Our horrible reception was fuzzy, but the audio was okay. In the show, a woman’s baby had been stolen, but apparently, it wasn’t really her baby. Slowly, Regan stopped crying. She lay on the couch silently and watched bad television.

We watched three back-to-back soap operas before I got up to change Rose’s diaper and put snacks on the coffee table. Rose toddled over to the snacks and ate. Regan didn’t.

The soaps turned into news and entertainment shows. I was getting seriously bored and had work to do for my business, but I didn’t want to leave Regan alone. Finally, she sat up and picked up a sliced carrot. She took a small bite and let Bradly have the rest.

Slowly, she stood, grabbed the car keys from where I’d stupidly left them on the kitchen table, and ran out the door. I screamed after Regan, but it was too late. She tore out of the driveway before I had a chance to do anything. A sense of really bad déjà vu swam in my head.

I called Zoe to tell her what happened. She was pissed but not surprised. Later that night, she got a ride home from one of the cooks and came through the door in a foul mood.

“I can’t believe this shit,” she said, collapsing on the couch.

“I know. But please be quiet. I don’t want Rose to wake up.”

She lowered her voice and stared me straight in the eye. “When is enough going to be enough?”

I sat on a dining room chair that was turned toward her. “When it is,” was all I could say.

She crossed her arms and sunk back in the couch, pouting. “We’ve been over this a million times.” She threw her arms in the air. “We can’t force her to take medication. She has to want to do it.”

“I know. I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed. Are you going to be all right?”

“I’m going to take a shower and go to bed after. I’ve got another shift in the morning.”

“You don’t have to work so much now. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I want other stuff for my life, you know?”

“Really? What?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. Just things. Maybe I want to start dancing again.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Well, if I want to do anything with my life, I need money. Since you’ve started earning so much, I’ve been saving. I might move to the city. I don’t know yet.”

I smiled and then frowned. I wanted her to follow her dreams and to be happy, but the thought of losing her made a lonely pit grow in my stomach. “I think that would be great,” I said, choking back my emotion.

“Don’t get all sad on me now. I’m not leaving yet.”

I went to my room and heard the shower turn on as I stared into the darkness. At least if Zoe moved to the city and got her life on track, one of us would be going somewhere.

When I woke up the next morning, Zoe was already gone. Rose’s cry wailed from the second floor, and I ran to get her. Downstairs, we cuddled in the warmth of my big bed until she started bouncing all over the place.

After breakfast, I showered and checked on my Etsy listings. I had three more orders since yesterday. I made notes about what fabric I needed and the sizes of the dress orders and made a mental note of the inventory I had on hand.

I went to my room and pulled out my stock of fabric. I only had three yards. I needed three yards per dress. I got myself together and put Rose in the backpack to walk to town.

I felt ridiculous trudging along the highway with my daughter on my back. There was barely a shoulder, let alone a sidewalk. Cars whizzed past on the narrow highway. I felt completely embarrassed and a little frightened.