Read Dirty Fighter: A Bad Boy MMA Romance for Free Online Page B
Authors: Roxy Sinclaire, Natasha Tanner
motioned me over to a hallway.
“Hey mom,” I said softly when she answered. The phone’s receiver smelled like vinegar and a cheap cleaning solution, I didn’t let it touch my face.
“Hi honey,” she said, her fake voice. She sounded like she’d spent the day at a spa, not in the same house as her dead abusive husband after cheating on him.
“So, what’s going on?” I asked, feeling like I needed to be careful of what I said specifically. I wasn’t sure if there was the possibility of anyone else on the line. I was angry at her for acting like it was so normal, like it didn’t affect her. It was tearing me up and she sounded like it never even freaking happened.
“Well, the cops have been gone for a couple hours,” she said thoughtfully. “They’re trying to keep it quiet, even asked if I wanted to stay in a hotel, that they’d pay for it. I just. I want to be here tonight, it’s so peaceful now,” she continued. I was shocked that she already called them. I hadn’t expected her to be home if the cops knew what was going on.
“They’re keeping it quiet?” I asked, willfully ignoring the rest of what she said.
“Yeah. Mostly because of Jim, they didn’t want it getting out that he was sleeping with me right before I had to defend myself from my husband,” she sounded like she was completely convinced of this series of events. She talked like she’d actually killed the bastard.
“So they’re not going to have you charged with anything?” a small relief.
“No, not that I know of yet—why would they? I was defending myself,” she replied sternly.
Her complete conviction to it threw me off and made me question the night as well.
“Baby doll, your flight is early in the morning. It’s all handled, just go and have a good time with Jo,” she said, I heard a clink in the background of glass touching glass and it made sense. She was drunk, of course.
“Alright, I’ll call you in the next couple days then,” I said, I knew it was an empty promise the moment it passed through my lips. We said our goodbyes and hung up, and I checked in. The motel was run down, but as I hit the bed, sliding under sheets of questionable cleanliness, I was relieved and relaxed. The day was over, and I’d only have to deal with it in memory.
I fell into a deep and immediate sleep.
8
Brooklyn
A irplanes never ceased to amaze me.
If you ever feel like everything in your life is closing in on you, it helps to be rocketed into the sky for a little bit of perspective. The world is huge, sprawling, ever moving. There is no lack of experiences, or people, or places.
There’s nothing but time for you to think.
By the time we landed, I had come to the realization that I still hadn’t forgiven my mother. I was glad to be away from her, and glad to be free of worry about my dad.
I saw the suitcase. I saw how prepared she already was for me to be left behind.
Regardless of what she did after the fact, she still had a bag packed and wasn’t planning on letting me know. She was going to leave me with him, that asshole, and she wasn’t even going to warn me. He could have killed me.
If she had left, I would have been there when he discovered it.
He would have been uncontrollably angry, uncontrollably loud, and I would have been the only person who had any information on where she went. My mom packing that bag and deciding to go without me was basically a death sentence, no matter how you looked at it. It didn’t matter what she did after he was dead, it didn’t change the fact that she was almost always only concerned with what was in her best interest.
She would have been just as guilty in the case of my death as he would have been.
My fists were held tight as the plane began to unload; my knuckles were bright and white, looking like they wanted to bust out through my pale skin. I didn’t even get to choose where I went after she told me I needed to leave. My mom even had her hands on controlling my
“Hey mom,” I said softly when she answered. The phone’s receiver smelled like vinegar and a cheap cleaning solution, I didn’t let it touch my face.
“Hi honey,” she said, her fake voice. She sounded like she’d spent the day at a spa, not in the same house as her dead abusive husband after cheating on him.
“So, what’s going on?” I asked, feeling like I needed to be careful of what I said specifically. I wasn’t sure if there was the possibility of anyone else on the line. I was angry at her for acting like it was so normal, like it didn’t affect her. It was tearing me up and she sounded like it never even freaking happened.
“Well, the cops have been gone for a couple hours,” she said thoughtfully. “They’re trying to keep it quiet, even asked if I wanted to stay in a hotel, that they’d pay for it. I just. I want to be here tonight, it’s so peaceful now,” she continued. I was shocked that she already called them. I hadn’t expected her to be home if the cops knew what was going on.
“They’re keeping it quiet?” I asked, willfully ignoring the rest of what she said.
“Yeah. Mostly because of Jim, they didn’t want it getting out that he was sleeping with me right before I had to defend myself from my husband,” she sounded like she was completely convinced of this series of events. She talked like she’d actually killed the bastard.
“So they’re not going to have you charged with anything?” a small relief.
“No, not that I know of yet—why would they? I was defending myself,” she replied sternly.
Her complete conviction to it threw me off and made me question the night as well.
“Baby doll, your flight is early in the morning. It’s all handled, just go and have a good time with Jo,” she said, I heard a clink in the background of glass touching glass and it made sense. She was drunk, of course.
“Alright, I’ll call you in the next couple days then,” I said, I knew it was an empty promise the moment it passed through my lips. We said our goodbyes and hung up, and I checked in. The motel was run down, but as I hit the bed, sliding under sheets of questionable cleanliness, I was relieved and relaxed. The day was over, and I’d only have to deal with it in memory.
I fell into a deep and immediate sleep.
8
Brooklyn
A irplanes never ceased to amaze me.
If you ever feel like everything in your life is closing in on you, it helps to be rocketed into the sky for a little bit of perspective. The world is huge, sprawling, ever moving. There is no lack of experiences, or people, or places.
There’s nothing but time for you to think.
By the time we landed, I had come to the realization that I still hadn’t forgiven my mother. I was glad to be away from her, and glad to be free of worry about my dad.
I saw the suitcase. I saw how prepared she already was for me to be left behind.
Regardless of what she did after the fact, she still had a bag packed and wasn’t planning on letting me know. She was going to leave me with him, that asshole, and she wasn’t even going to warn me. He could have killed me.
If she had left, I would have been there when he discovered it.
He would have been uncontrollably angry, uncontrollably loud, and I would have been the only person who had any information on where she went. My mom packing that bag and deciding to go without me was basically a death sentence, no matter how you looked at it. It didn’t matter what she did after he was dead, it didn’t change the fact that she was almost always only concerned with what was in her best interest.
She would have been just as guilty in the case of my death as he would have been.
My fists were held tight as the plane began to unload; my knuckles were bright and white, looking like they wanted to bust out through my pale skin. I didn’t even get to choose where I went after she told me I needed to leave. My mom even had her hands on controlling my