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Muffin must have got him good.
“Come on, girl, we have to hurry,” I say as we run for the car. Opening the driver’s side door, I help Muffin climb inside.
Following behind her, I get the door closed and locked just before Travis reaches me. He slaps his hand against the window, staring at me.
“Christy,” he says pleadingly.
My hand shakes as I push the key into the ignition and turn the engine over.
“Christy,” he repeats more angrily as the car roars to life. “Don’t you fucking leave!”
I ignore him and throw the car in reverse. He tries to follow as I back out onto the street.
“I’ll fucking find you, you little whore!” he screams as I stop and put the car into drive.
He gives the side of the car a kick and then I hit the gas, peeling down the street and leaving him behind.
Chapter Thirty-One
Alex
Walking into the house, I can’t help but grin like the motherfucking Cheshire Cat. I’ve secured a three year, five fight contract with a hefty bonus structure for securing the belt.
It looks like my fight going the way it did made the company very happy, like happy enough that they hardly put up a fight over my requests. I went ready to put up a fight to ensure I got a fair deal. Fuck, I was ready for a knockdown, drag out brawl with paper, but shit like that didn’t even happen.
We spent thirty minutes talking, and fifteen minutes signing. Shit, I didn’t even have to bust out my special bartering skills. They dropped a contract in front of me with enough zeros on it to keep me in the company for the next three years without a fucking care in the world.
Fuck me, when I see a contract going into eight figures, I’m not going to say no. Especially with win bonuses attached to it.
After everything was said and done, I didn’t even have to call Christy for a lift home. They sent me back home in a fancy town car with a fucking chauffeur.
Walking through the front door of the house feels odd to me though. There’s no Muffin there to greet me, no Christy dancing around the house with her earbuds in.
Nothing but quiet.
I look around the living room for a moment and grimace. I like my girls home with me. I think I’ve gotten accustomed to Christy being a part of my life.
Fuck, I’m already deeply in love with her. I just need to make sure she is on the same page as me. She better be…
I head upstairs to change into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt then I head into the kitchen.
If the girls aren’t home, I can cheat a little and make a frozen pizza. If I’m quick enough, I won’t get the stink eye from them and the guilty looks for not sharing.
Popping my head into the freezer, I hear the door leading into the kitchen open. Shit. No secret pizza for me.
Leaning back, I watch Christy and Muffin walk through the door, the former carrying a tattered box in her arms.
Something’s off though, because Muffin isn’t her happy-go-lucky self. She’s on high alert, head up and eyes on a swivel.
Christy tips me off that something is really fucked when I see her eyes widen in shock at seeing me. I would be worried about that if it weren’t for the black tracks on her cheeks from her mascara running.
Rushing to wrap my arms around Christy, I notice how Muffin waits a moment before slamming the side of her body into my legs. It’s a good thing that Christy doesn’t seem to mind us dropping into a pile of limbs on the floor because I pull both of them into my arms.
I can feel Christy shuddering in my arms and I notice that even Muffin is trembling.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I whisper as I run my hand up and down her side.
“It’s… I…. Fuck. I didn’t want you to have to…” She stops talking for a moment and I let her remain quiet.
I found out long ago that when you want someone to spill the beans sometimes you just have to keep your mouth shut.
Hugging her tight, she trembles and then it feels like the dam bursts.
All these weeks… the doubt and the worries over her secretive past come tumbling out of her.
Her stepbrother’s betrayal, her stepfather’s inability to care about anything beyond a drunken coma.
The night I found her in the gym. The day I picked her up at the gas station.
All these painful moments she has been keeping bottled up inside, she spills them out to me.
What kind of sick fuck tries to do what that bastard did? It’s no wonder she was trying to stay in that shitty hotel to get away from him.
I just hold her as she goes from gasping sobs to quiet sniffles.
