Undefeated (Unexpected Book 5) (33 page)

“So you’re over all that?” She interrupts.

I shake my head. “I never dealt with the loss of my first family,” I explain to her. “Not until after the cartel almost killed me and I spent a long time in a rehab facility.”

“Therapy has helped you, then?”

“Yes, for the most part,” I tell her. “After I was kidnapped I had trouble sleeping. Some nights I still wake up sweating, scared that I didn’t make it out of that house. That the cartel found my family and killed all of them. It’s not often, and I work through it the way my last doctor taught me. It’s not easy and it’s not something that just goes away. Opening the door to my place always freaks me out, I fear seeing someone waiting for me.” I shiver remembering what Mason did, so I tell her and she rolls her eyes the same way AJ did when she was annoyed with her brothers. Maybe I shouldn’t use names to keep things separate, but instead of asking, I continue. “One of my therapists did a few hypnotherapy sessions to help me face that fear. AJ . . . I regret how I treated her so much; I’d like to do with her what I did with my foster parents. Apologize for my actions. There’s not much I can fix, but someday I want to apologize to her for the shit I put her through.”

Thea nods, scribbles something, and then looks up to me. “After rehab, what happened to you?”

I tell her about the ranch, how I felt I wasn’t ready to face everyday life at some nine to five job. Instead, during that period, I lived in a farmhouse with other farmhands. After that, I tell her about my decision to move to Oregon. Portland to be exact.

“The compound?” She frowns.

“That’s a thirty-minute drive north of Portland,” I tell her, that’s where I lived with my foster family for four years. She nods. “It was a familiar area, weather, and I felt safe.”

Unfortunately, her clock beeps and she lets out a sigh.

“This hour went too fast and I feel as if we didn’t even touch the surface,” she states. “We couldn’t discuss much about your goals. When do you want to come in again?”

“Whenever you have your next opening,” I tell her, agreeing that it went fast and I feel as if I have to get a lot more out before it’s time for me to talk to AJ. “There’s a lot I want to talk through.”

“Tomorrow, same time?” I nod.

“How are you today, Porter?” Thea greets me, as she calls me from her office. I look her up and down, as she wears a pair of jeans, a flouncy long sleeve shirt and her hair is down. “Right, sorry for the outfit, but we have a zoo to attend in about an hour.” She grabs her notepad and takes a seat on her flowery chair.

“Where were we?” She clicks her pen and stares at me.

Molly. She is the next person I talked about. Thea can’t help but laugh at what I tell her. The flirting is what takes several minutes to explain. Continuing with Mac. “It was this pretty woman with a lost gaze and a beautiful smile that knocked on my door. She’s a widow who moved from Colorado to Oregon. Before she arrived, I used to live in the house next door; it’s a two-bedroom place. But I moved out when she came.”

“Why?”

“As I said, her aunt is a little off and . . .” I trail, trying not to talk distract myself again with Molly and the crazy things that come out of her mouth or the shit she does. “She had decided that Mac should sleep on the couch while the kids slept in the room. I felt as if they needed their own space. They had lost their father and their mother was going through a lot of pain. I felt sorry for the kids. Like me, they had lost a parent. I wanted them to know that they weren’t alone. Life is complicated enough while you’re growing up, but losing everything and moving away from what they’ve known was a lot to deal with. I tried to ignore Mac, stay away from them, because before them, I avoided contact with everyone, but they were impossible to ignore.”

I pull my phone out and show her some pictures of them. Not sure if that’s ethical or part of therapy, but sharing them feels right for me.

“Her name is Harper,” I begin to tell her all about my little Harp. Her favorite color, how I taught her to ride her bike and then continue with Finn. For the next hour, I spend my time talking about the small family I had for a few months, the love I have for them and how I hoped that Mac could love me the way I did her. “I miss them.”

“So why did you leave them?”

“Because we both need to find ourselves, before we can pursue something else. She’s grieving and there’s nothing I can do to help her unless she wants to be helped,” I say. Thea nods. I look at my tatt. “I’ve been there. It took me time to understand that my first love will always mean something to me, but I believe in the possibilities of falling for someone again.”

“You want to tell me about your tatt?” She touches her wrist. “AJ?”

I explain what it means, what I do when I’m lost, and when I finish unloading it sounds like I haven’t moved on. The letters look out of place.

“Maybe I have to find out how to close the chapter.” The words leave me without thinking. “Maybe, at first I was interested in Mac because she was emotionally unavailable. I was trying to hold onto AJ and James so hard I wouldn’t have to open up to anyone again. But I got to know her and now . . .”

“Now?” Thea looks at me, then back at her pad.

“I want to change my life, I don’t want to end up alone like my father,” I admit. “That’s why I moved out of Portland to confront my shit, while she confronts hers. To find myself and find a way to offer her something tangible. Real.”

“As long as you’re willing to walk where you think you should be, you’ll get there.” She closes her pad. “Tell you what, let’s meet next week if that’s okay with you. I have a seven o’clock opening in the morning.”

“I’m meeting with AJ on Monday at eleven,” I tell her.

“Well, that’s great; we’d have talked by then.”

“Thank you.” I rise from my seat and shake her hand.

Mac
: So you’re famous? Crazy famous?

Porter:
Yes, I was. Not anymore.

Mac
: THE DECKERS . . .

Mac
: You are related to the Decker twins, to Christian freaking Decker.

Mac
: You’re the foster son of Gabe Colt. We’ve been watching his movies and it never occurred to mention he’s your dad?

Porter
: Yes to all of the above, but they’re simple people. My family.

Mac
: Wow! You’re famous. Really famous. Okay, I’m done fangirling.

Mac:
Molly is wondering about the gossip that is swirling around. Is it true?

Porter:
Which ones?

Mac:
That your foster parents abused you.

Porter:
Never. You know the true story; which I hope you keep to yourself.

Mac:
Not to worry, I won’t tell anyone. Not even her. She’s inviting friends over to the room you slept in.

Porter:
What else is she doing?

Mac:
Selling your favorite cookies.

Porter:
She never baked me cookies.

Mac:
No one has to know the truth.

Porter:
Harper and Finn?

Mac:
Harper and I are having problems. She thinks you’re going to come back and take her to your new house—with her own room. Can you believe her?

I stare at the screen and erase my answer. Because yes, if Mac allowed it, I’d take them with me.

Porter:
Tell her I live in a small apartment. Show her these pictures. Your house is bigger than my place. There’s no backyard for her toys. Here is lonely.

Mac:
Are you okay?

Porter:
I’m trying to stay above water. Usually, with so many changes I lose my shit, but so far I’m sober. I began therapy again as a way to make sure that I stay clean, and I have my parent’s support.

I
stare at the last words. My parents. Chris and Gabe haven’t rolled out a red carpet welcoming me, but they have been understanding. We talk daily over the phone, I continue telling them crap that I hid and stuff that I regret not airing out long ago. Our future is a work in progress, but I’m certain that it’ll be more than just an exchange of holiday greetings.

Mac:
That makes me happy. You’ll be fine, you have people that love you and support you.

Porter:
It’d be better if you and the kids were here.

I don’t send the last text; instead, I get ready for my interview with Noah, from some radio station. Jacob is going to be with me. We’re sitting down to put every rumor to rest. There’s no feud with the Deckers; they didn’t kick me out. I broke plenty of rules and had to leave. Pria’s team admitted that I was in rehab for about two years. That’s information I wanted to let be known. The rest isn’t important. After the interview, I have another session with Thea and then . . . I have to be at the Academy to see AJ.

Fuck, this is huge. I look at my wrist and her initials are fading after the first laser treatment. The office where they’re removing it said it takes between six to ten sessions for it to disappear. Sounds like a long time, but the three times I’ve explained out loud what it means to me, the less I like what it symbolizes. AJ is my past; she should be a memory. Not the reason why I keep going, why I do the right thing. I am my own reason. Mac, Harper, and Finn are too. My ex shouldn’t take up so much space in my present, if at all. Took me damn long to realize it.

“That was easy,” Jacob says, as he disconnects the phone conversation with Noah. “You seriously won’t play again? Dude, I know you loved the thrill of the stage. If you ever want, there’s Thrice. Matt might let you play at the Silver Moon.”

I shake my head. “Maybe someday, but not now. What else do you have for me?”

He pushes a folder. “The wife found something while going through the system.” I open the folder and it’s a spreadsheet. “Your shit’s been selling for years, but we haven’t paid you the royalties in a long time.” As his finger taps the bottom line, my jaw drops. Almost ten million dollars.

“That’s a crazy amount of money.” I read again the figure.

“You made more than that annually when you were active.” He hands me a pen. “The royalties that’ll hit the bank as your music is starting to play on the radio again will be crazy. Sign the paper accepting the money and it’ll be sent over to the bank account we have on file.”