Tame: Carter Kids #3 (21 page)

Dawn was breaking outside when I finally went back upstairs to my wife. I'd spent the night in the resident's bar with Lewis, mulling over what I'd witnessed. I should have come to bed earlier, but I needed breathing space. I needed time to digest everything that had gone down.

Lewis had assured me nothing had happened between them, but that wasn’t why I was hurt. I was fucking in pain to think that she'd go behind my back like that.

Goddammit, why didn’t she just tell me she was meeting him?

I would have understood.

Well, no, I wouldn’t have understood, but I could have handled it a hell of a lot better if it weren't done behind my back.

The image of that prick shirtless in my bedroom would forever be imprinted in my memory, no matter how innocent it was or not.

Teagan was sitting on the bed with her arms wrapped around her knees when I walked into our bedroom.

"I wanted to," she whispered, nodding at the empty case lying open beside her, her red-rimmed eyes were puffy and swollen. "But I made you a promise I wouldn’t run again."

"Thorn," I croaked out, closing the bedroom door behind me. My eyes were locked on the suitcase. My heart was squeezing so hard in my chest that I thought it would burst.

"I know you don't believe me about Liam," she said quietly. "But I had nothing to do with him coming to our hotel room."

Jesus Christ, why did she have to keep fucking lying to me?

"I'll be real here," I managed to slur. "I'm mad as hell that you didn’t tell me he was coming." Clearing my throat, I managed to add, "I'm fucking hurt, Teagan."

Huge teardrops slid down her cheeks, dampening the sheet wrapped around her body, but she didn't make a sound. She was graceful in her pain, that was for sure.

"Jesus," I muttered, appalled, as I stumbled clumsily over to my wife, stinking of whiskey and cigarettes. Sinking down heavily on the edge of the bed, I reached over and wiped a teardrop from her cheek with my thumb. Letting out a sigh, I wiped another tear from her cheek before dropping my hand to her thigh. "I get why you had to meet up with him, okay?" My tone was laced with pain. This wasn’t easy for me. "I…
understand
you had loose ends to tie up."

"Loose end," she muttered under her breath.

"Stop," I begged her. "Please just
stop
lying about it. You're only making it fifty times fucking worse." I exhaled a sharp breath. "I'm not accusing you of having an affair here," I added, voice torn. "But I'm fucking wounded to think that you went behind my back on this."

"Fine," she ground out through clenched teeth. "I won't say another word about it."

"Teagan…"

"I want to go to sleep," she snapped, clenching her eyes shut. Curling up in a tiny ball, she whispered, "I'm tired. Of all of it."

Of me?

My mind thought the words my mouth would never speak, and fear engulfed me.

"Thorn…" I paused. I wasn't sure what I was trying to say. I knew I needed to say something, but I had no clue as to what.

"Goodnight, Noah," she whispered, turning away from me.

"Goodnight, Thorn," I muttered, feeling at a loss.

This morning, like most others for the past few weeks, I found myself not wanting to get out of bed. Lucky was in Colorado which meant I was completely friendless on this tour, surrounded by a bunch of men that hated me. So instead of accompanying Noah to the gym, I feigned sleep and waited until he was gone before getting up and collapsing in a heap in the shower.

Aside from being completely miserable, I was feeling
off
.

I wasn’t sure how to explain it, only that I wasn’t myself. My body was aching all over and I felt completely shattered both internally and physically. I felt all
wrong
inside. I was teary and lonely and every morning I woke up, I found myself slipping into the shower to have a good cry.

That shower floor had quickly become my therapist, and each morning, I found myself sitting under a steady flow of piping hot water and reflecting over my life and the mistakes I'd made.

Of course, everything good, bad, and indifferent always fell back to Noah.

It was always
Noah
.

When I'd confronted Lewis the morning after Liam's appearance, and demanded to know why he'd allowed Liam into the suite, he'd simply shrugged and turned his back on me. When I'd accused him of helping Beau to try and ruin my relationship – because I just knew that this had to do with Beau Brady – Lewis had neither admitted or denied it…

"Why didn’t you tell him?" I screamed, clinging onto the doorframe, refusing to allow Lewis to close the door and return to his post. "I had nothing to do with Liam being here and you know it."

"I covered for you, didn’t I?" he shot back, flustered. "I made it right for you."

"Made it right for me?" I shook my head, not understanding any of this. "The only way you can make it right for me is if you tell Noah the truth. Tell him I was set up."

"I'm not getting involved."

"You're already involved," I shot back, seething. "You involved yourself the moment you let Liam into my suite."

He didn't even try to deny it.

"So it was Beau?" I continued to prod. "He's the one you were arguing with outside my room?"

Again, Lewis remained silent.

"You said ‘what are you doing back here?’" I gripped the door so hard, chips of pain came away under my nails. If Beau hadn't come so close to ruining my marriage, I would have been impressed with his devious methods. "You meant Beau, didn't you?"

If I had been expecting an answer from Lewis that morning, then I would still be waiting.

His secret keeping skills were exceptional.

He'd had the chance to defend me once and had let me burn.

Granted, he'd scrambled together some pathetic tale to take the heat off me, but that shit didn’t float with me.

Lewis knew I had nothing to do with Liam being there that night and trying to take the heat off me when he could have exonerated me was something I could
never
forget.

Thinking about the way I had been treated made me feel so damn homesick. I was barely hanging in here. I wanted to run. I wanted to pack a bag and get as far away from all these horrible human beings as I could…but I couldn’t leave
him
.

I couldn’t leave Noah.

I wasn’t sure who I was madder with; Liam for being a douchebag, Quincy, Tommy, and Beau, for being the sneaky bastards they were, Lewis for betraying me, or Noah for not believing me.

He was different now. Cooler. Our communication skills were worse than bad and we barely spoke more than four words to each other most days.

Last week he told me that he understood why I had to meet Liam, and that he wasn’t mad anymore, but wished that I'd spoken to him about it first.

I'd replied by flipping him the bird and telling him to go fuck himself.

He was hell-bent on not listening to a damn thing I had to say and I wasn’t prepared to accept
his acceptance
of an apology I hadn't given.

He was mad at me for lying to him and I was furious with him for not believing me.

Climbing to my feet, I switched off the shower and wrapped a towel around my body before heading back into the bedroom.

Sinking down on our bed, I looked around the room sadly. Noah's clothes were laid in neat piles. His sneakers stacked and paired neatly by the closet. Everything he owned was in order. Everything I possessed, on the other hand, was scattered and thrown around.

We were so different in every possible way and we never seemed to be able to stay on the same page.

It was like Noah had said before, he was either fighting with me or fucking with me. There truly was no middle line between us.

Sex seemed to be the only thing we got right.

Anger, love, sex, and hardcore lust…

I'd fallen in love with a boy who came from a different world than me, and when our worlds collided, sparks flew. Noah tied me up in a bazillion different knots, each one more intricately entwined than the next.

We had moved too quickly, I thought to myself, as I studied the room, its contents, and the hastily maimed tattoo on my ring finger.

We should've taken baby steps, taken it slow, but I wasn't going to run again.

Painful or not, I was going to see this through.

Exhaling a shaky breath, I reached forward and grabbed my cellphone off my nightstand before unlocking the screen and dialing the one phone number I knew by heart.

The moment I heard his familiar voice on the other line, my eyes filled up with tears.

"It's me," I sniffled as I sat cross-legged on the ginormous bed, feeling more alone than I'd felt in months. "I miss you," I added, voice breaking.

There was silence for so long that I thought Uncle Max had hung up on me, but then I heard him say, "I miss you, too," and silent tears that had been trickling down my cheeks turned to full-blown, snot ugly crying.

Hearing my uncle admit that he missed me caused a dam to burst inside of me.

"I miss you so much," I choked out, cradling the phone in my hand. "I don't want to fight with you anymore. Please stop hating me." My voice was rising higher and higher. "I love you so much." I could hardly talk through my tears. "I'm sorry for being a disappointment." I was crying hard and ugly. "Please say you still love me…"

"Teagan, stop," I heard my uncle say in as gentle tone as I'd ever heard him use. "I have
never
hated you."

I sniffled. "You haven't?"

"Never," he vowed with a sigh. "I've been disappointed in your choices. Hell, I've been downright furious. I still am. But at no point in time have I stopped loving you."

"I want what we used to have back," I admitted brokenly. "I want a relationship with you again."

I heard my uncle sigh heavily. "I don't think that's possible."

My heart cracked clean open.

What little hope I had inside of me evaporated.

"I suppose I should congratulate you on your marriage," he added after a pause. "I'd like to say that it came as a surprise to read, but I always knew you'd run back into his arms again."

"Please don’t start a fight again, Uncle Max," I hated begging anyone, but I needed him. I felt so bad. I missed him so much. All I wanted to do was run home to my uncle.

"I'm not," Uncle Max surprised me by saying in a gentle tone. "I'm just acknowledging the fact that my niece is a married woman now."

"Please, can't we at least try to get back to the way we used to be?" Swallowing deeply, I added, "We're coming to Colorado – Noah's last fight of this leg of the tour is against Gary Bash in Boulder. After that, Noah gets a month off to rest. Can I see you then?"
Can we spend some time getting back on track…?

"Teagan, I'm actually in the middle of something here," Uncle Max replied. "Can I call you back?"

"Yeah," I sobbed wearily. "Okay."

The line went dead and I tucked my phone under my pillow, knowing it wouldn't ring again.

My marriage had gone to hell in a handbasket.

For the last several weeks, my wife had holed herself up in whatever hotel we were staying at. She hadn't shown up to any of my training sessions that she used to sit in on and nothing I seemed to say made a blind shit of difference.

On top of that, she wasn't eating.

She had all of three bites of toast at breakfast this morning, and even less for dinner last night.

I had no idea what to do.

I was the one who was supposed to be mad - she'd invited her ex into our goddamn hotel room - but she was acting like
I
was the one that had betrayed
her
.

"I'm
not
hungry," Teagan hissed when I asked her why she had only taken one bite of her sandwich. "Don't make an issue out of this," she added before climbing off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

Seconds later the motor of the shower running filled my ears.

"How the hell am I not supposed to worry?" I called out over the noise, but she didn't respond.

She was such a little liar.

Didn't she know by now that I could read her like a book?

Fuck, she was about the only thing I read clearly.

Standing up, I followed her into the bathroom.

I had a fight tonight. Hell, I was supposed to be in the cage in under two hours and Teagan looked like death warmed up. She was pale and jittery, and even though she futilely denied it, I fucking knew that she'd been sick earlier this morning.

Stripping off my clothes, I opened the shower door and stepped inside, forcing myself to keep my emotions in check as I stared down at her. "First thing tomorrow, I'm making you an appointment with the best damn doctor in this city."

"Noah, I'm fine," Teagan shot back, firmer this time as she pressed her palm against my chest. "Now, do you mind? I'm trying to shower here."

Water cascaded down her body and I frowned.

Teagan wasn’t okay.

She hadn't been okay for weeks now – months.

She had lost more weight.

Her shoulder blades were more noticeable and her hipbones were protruding.

The slight swell of her lower belly was evidence of something darker.

Something I'd seen Ellie do on many occasions growing up.

"Are you doing it on purpose?" I blurted out tactlessly, as my eyes roamed over her naked body.

"Am I doing what?" Teagan replied, not understanding me one bit.

"Are you making yourself sick on purpose?" I probably could have come around this conversation a little better, but I was worked up.

"Wait," she deadpanned, eyes narrowing. "You think I am purposefully making myself sick?"

"I heard you this morning," I shot back. "Deny it all you want, but I know you've been sick, Teagan." I knew what a woman who made herself sick looked like.

Frail. Check.

Thin. Check.

Gaunt. Check.

Swollen stomach from the trauma. Check.

Right about now, my wife was checking every fucking box…

"You're freaking unbelievable." Letting out a growl, Teagan shoved my chest hard before stepping around me and out of the shower. "Sorry to disappoint you, Dear Husband," she continued to say as she wrapped a large fluffy white towel around her drenched body. "But last time I checked, not feeling hungry didn't constitute as an eating disorder."

The bathroom door slammed shut behind her and I was left alone in the shower.

Groaning internally, I switched off the water and climbed out.

Grabbing a towel, I hooked it around my waist before heading back into the bedroom.

"You've lost weight," I explained in as calm a tone as I could muster. "I'm sorry if it upset you, but I had to ask."

"Of course you did," she shot back coldly.

Dropping her towel, Teagan walked across the bedroom shamelessly, as naked as the day she was born. "I'm naturally skinny," she told me before throwing open a dresser drawer.

Pulling out several items of clothing, she dropped them on the ground.

She was so damn messy.

Why did women need so much stuff? 

I couldn't figure it out. I'd spent half a decade in a cell with Lucky.

We had minimal stuff in prison and survived just fine, but Teagan?

Jesus, that woman had a truckload of shit following after her. We'd arrived in New York on Tuesday and it had taken me three trips to the bus to bring all her shit up to our suite.

Teagan continued to dump the contents of her dresser drawers on the floor before deciding a pair of plain black cotton panties and stepping into them. "But thanks for throwing my body insecurities in my face."

Teagan grabbed a matching black bra from the pile of rubble on the floor and dangled it in front of her face.

"See this?" she demanded. "Women with bodies like mine don't need to wear these."

She put it on anyway, much to my dismay.

"Do you want to comment on how tiny my breasts are, too?" she asked. "Or mention the fact that I don't have a big ass like all those girls you used to flaunt around with after every fight you had on the television?"

"I'm sorry, Thorn." I was an asshole. "I love your body," I added, feeling like the world's worst piece of shit.

She was going to cry.

I could see it in her eyes.

Her hazel eyes were tearing up.

"You're perfect to me," I added gruffly.

That did it.

The waterworks started.

She was fucking crying
again
.

"I don't have an eating disorder," she said in a voice thick with emotion as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I feel under the weather, okay?"

"Okay." Walking over to her, I placed my hands on her shoulders and whispered, "Don't cry."

That was a big fucking mistake because she only cried harder.

"Stop crying?" I offered, unsure and nervous as hell.

"I can't help it," she half sobbed, half screamed, using my arm to wipe her nose. Lovely. "I'm feeling under the weather and you think I'm ugly."

"What?" Shaking my head, I pulled her into my arms. "I do not think you're ugly."

Jesus Christ. What the hell was wrong with her?

"I think you're beautiful."

"You like curvy women," she shot back, sobbing harder. "You said I'm too skinny."

No I fucking didn't…

"Thorn, come on, baby, stop this," I begged, helplessly.

Tipping her chin upwards with my thumb, I brushed the tears off her cheeks, eyes locked on hers.

"I love you." Cupping her neck with both hands, I pressed my lips to hers, shivering when my stomach twisted inside of me.

My legs shook.

I was fucking trembling.

She had that effect on me.

"I fucking love you," I repeated against her lips, taking her breath with another kiss. "Yours is the only body I think is sexy," I told her, knowing deep down inside that she needed to hear it. It was no lie. Teagan was painstakingly sexy. "You turn me on like no one else," I added.

"I do?" she asked, hiccupping. A small smile tipped her lips upwards and I sagged in relief.

"Of course," I said carefully, debating whether or not I should say the next sentence. "It only crossed my mind because Ellie's stomach looked kind of swollen like yours every time she made herself sick."

Oh shit…

I knew I'd said the wrong thing the second the words had spilled out of my mouth.

Teagan's face turned a deep shade of red. "Let me get this straight," she screamed, furious. "First I'm too skinny, and now I'm fucking fat?" Reaching into the drawer, she grabbed a pink lacy bra and threw it at my head. "You insensitive asshole."

"Fine," I conceded, holding my hands up. "I won't say another word about your bod… I won't say another word."

"That sounds good to me." Tears filled her eyes again. "Now turn around so I can dress my
fat
ass."