Luke (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel Book 8) Read online

  “The grocery store?” I repeat in confusion. Most of the time I’m the one who does all the shopping and errands since she’s rarely well enough to leave the house. This is exactly why Dad and I try to keep her at home.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what happened, but if you had been here, she wouldn’t have gone. Can you come home, see if you can make any sense out of what she’s saying?” he asks. I can hear his blame loud and clear because I’ve been at Havoc for more than the usual two hours. How dare I leave the fucking house for so long?

  It’s not like I can predict my mother’s meltdowns. What am I supposed to do? Be my mother’s warden and keep her locked up twenty-four seven while he’s at work?

  But I do feel responsible for her since Dad has to earn a living. As a surgeon that includes helping others when they need it most.

  “Sure. I’m on my way,” I tell him before placing the receiver back into the cradle on the front desk.

  “Everything all right?” Jude asks.

  “I dunno,” I answer honestly. “Gotta go check on my mom.”

  “Let us know if you need anything,” he says with a slap to my bare shoulder, which reminds me I’m only wearing shoes and a pair of sweats.

  “Will do. Thanks,” I tell him.

  Jogging back through the gym, I rush into the locker room to pull on my shirt. A shower will have to wait until later. I grab my wallet, phone, and keys from my locker, but decide to leave behind Eli’s Clemson hat I usually wear when I go out. It only makes my mom sad to see it because it reminds her of him, so I try not to wear it around her. Actually, it’s exhausting spending time with my mom since I’m constantly trying not to do or say anything about Eli to avoid upsetting her.

  A short drive later and I’m pulling up at my parent’s sprawling two-story brick home, letting myself in the front door. The living room holds the familiar shrine-like memorial for Eli that takes up the entire mantel, complete with a candle burning and a large canvas of his senior photo hanging above it all.

  Even after almost four years I still miss him just as much, if not more, than the day he died. I guess I’ve just gotten used to carrying around the familiar sadness and grief, so it’s not as debilitating as it was right after the accident.

  Spoke too soon.

  My shoulders instantly slump at the familiar sight of my mom, who has easily aged twenty years since Eli’s death, sobbing on the sofa, my father’s arms around her. He looks up and gives me a forced, half-smile as he tries to calm her down.

  Whatever the fuck happened must have been really bad since I haven’t seen her this broken up in months.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, sitting on the other side of my mom and rubbing her back.

  When Eli died, not only did I lose my brother and my best friend, but my father became more withdrawn, angry and distant. Without a doubt, I lost my mother too. She misses Eli so damn much, and for nearly four years I’ve tried to help my dad hold her together. Some days she’s almost back to normal, but then she sees something that reminds her of Eli and ends up sobbing for hours.

  “He’s Eli’s! I just know it!” my mother cries out.

  Oh jeez. No telling what the hell she’s talking about, and it’ll probably take the rest of the night for my dad and me to figure it out so we can talk her down.

  My palm continues to rub comforting circles on her back that don’t seem to be doing any good. And, fuck, it’s exhausting to always be the one keeping it together every second of every day, constantly walking on eggshells to try and avoid any unnecessary drama or stress for my parents. That’s the reason I didn’t go away for college and haven’t even moved out of my parents’ house. I feel trapped, like I can’t go live my own life without the fragile, unstable house of cards falling down on top of my mom, which will only end up putting more of a burden on my dad. He’s a plastic surgeon who specializes in reconstruction for burn victims. Right now he’s missing work to deal with my mom, who obviously called him at the office, upset and hysterical, which means he likely had to cancel on patients who were depending on his help.

  “What’s Eli’s, Mom?” I ask her on a sigh, unable to keep all of the weariness from my voice.

  “The boy!” she exclaims.

  Over my mom’s shoulder, I raise my eyebrows at my father, who gives a slight shake of his head. He has no clue what she’s talking about either.

  “What boy?” I ask.

  “The one…the one at the grocery store. She…she’s kept him from us this whole time!” Mom sobs.

  “Who did you see at the grocery store, Nancy?” my dad asks, stroking my mom’s long, graying blond hair back from her wet face.

  “Megan. Eli’s Megan!” she tells us.

  Just the sound of her name jars me like I’ve stuck my finger in an electrical socket.

  “Megan?” I repeat to make sure I heard her correctly. “Megan Warner’s back in town?”

  “Yes!” Mom exclaims.

  Holy shit. I can actually feel my lungs seizing up just like every time I think of the last night I saw my brother’s girlfriend. After his funeral, she up and disappeared. All her parents would tell me was that she went to live with her aunt somewhere in Arizona, refusing to give me her phone number or address. Meg was just…gone.

  “Megan has a son!” my mom tells us, which I have to say is probably about as pleasant as trying to digest an entire porcupine through my guts.

  I’m not sure why I’m surprised. Meg was so smart and beautiful. It’s a given that she would’ve met someone and started her own family by now. She deserves to be happy after Eli not only died so suddenly, but brutally crushed her heart with his secret in the process.

  For years I had the biggest crush on Megan, long before Eli ever noticed her. In fact, our families had gone to church together our entire lives. By the time I was thirteen, I had even deluded myself into thinking I loved her simply because I had memorized the sprinkle of freckles across her nose. I was mesmerized by her beautiful, wavy, strawberry-blonde hair that moved like flames in the wind. Seeing her date and fall in love with my brother was an excruciating two years. And even now, after all this time, it hurts like fuck to think of Megan having a family with another man.

  But why the hell is my Mom freaking out over the news of Megan having a son?

  My dad looks at me and lifts an eyebrow, conveying the same question I’m asking myself. Maybe because it reminds her of how Eli and Megan were supposed to get married and have kids together? Surely she knows that even if Eli were still alive that probably would’ve only happened on a cold day in hell since Eli was in love with Nate.

  “Mom, why are you so upset?” I ask her gently.

  “Because he’s Eli’s son! He looks just like him, the exact same blue eyes, his curly blond hair…”

  “Nancy, that’s ridiculous, you know that, right?” my dad assures her. “We’re coming up on the fourth anniversary of losing him.”

  “He’s three years old!” she shouts. “She…she must have gotten pregnant right before the accident!”

  Now that I know for certain is impossible.

  Megan was a virgin when Eli died, even though it became pretty clear that he wasn’t. That’s one of the reasons why I think Meg was so devastated that she couldn’t even come to his funeral. And it reminds me why I ended up going over to her house that night to check on her.

  “Luke, are you okay?” my father asks. “You look a little green.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie, unable to hold back the memory of the mistake I’ve kept a secret for years when it starts to resurface...

  I’m so fucking angry at my brother, which is seriously fucked up since he’s dead.

  Just a few hours ago we said our final goodbyes and put Eli in the ground. My mom had to be carried from the graveyard kicking and screaming. It was horrible seeing her fall apart while dealing with the realization that I’ll never see my brother again. My last memory of him was having to look at his pale body in a box, his nec
k stitched up after it was ripped open by the glass…

  Now I’m in a whirlwind of emotions. The sadness, guilt, confusion, and hurt twisting me up so badly I’m dizzy. It feels wrong to be mad at Eli for crashing his truck and dying on his birthday, but I can’t help it. He lied to us, told us he was with his girlfriend Megan, and then told Megan he was sick and staying home instead of going out to celebrate. There’s only one explanation that makes sense for why he blew us all off and lied to go out with his best friend --- because he had something to hide from us. I’m starting to think there was a lot more to all of Nate and Eli’s sleepovers.

  I wouldn’t have given a shit about who Eli wanted to be with if he hadn’t been screwing around with Nate behind his girlfriend’s back the whole time. Megan loves him --- correction, loved him -- so damn much, and now she must be completely shattered. Which is why I’m taking my parents’ car to drive over in the dark to check on her. Meg’s father, Pastor Warner, officiated the funeral without her in attendance, and both of her parents are now at our house with all of our other friends and family. The house was so packed and suffocatingly sad without Eli that I couldn’t breathe. I needed some air and figured I should check on Megan.

  The Warners’ front door is unlocked, which isn’t all that surprising. Our adjoining neighborhoods are like a modern Mayberry, where the only crimes are a kooky neighbor putting a hideous gnome in their yard that the homeowner’s association tries to make them take down.

  “Meg?” I call out as I ease their front door shut behind me. When she doesn’t respond, I take the steps up to the second floor, figuring she’s in her room. “Megan?” I say again before I get to her doorway just to warn her of my approach.

  I hear her weeping before I see her sprawled face down in her bed. God, she’s pitiful, reminding me of how distraught my mom is. Just when I’m starting to be able to accept my brother’s death, I see Meg and lose my shit all over again.

  Unable to find any words to comfort her, I toe off my dress shoes and climb in bed beside her. Without any prompting, she throws herself into my arms, drowning me in her sweet, strawberry scent.

  “I want to hate him…but then I miss him so much,” she sobs into my dress shirt.

  “I know,” I tell her. Holding her to me, one of my hands rubs the back of her wavy red hair that’s thicker and softer than I ever imagined, while my other hand strokes her back through her cotton pajamas. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve wanted to be with Meg this way over the years, and now I feel so fucking guilty since the only reason I’m here in her bed is because my brother is gone forever.

  “I can’t believe he’s…he’s dead,” she says between sobbing hiccups. “But I couldn’t go to the funeral either. Couldn’t see him…that way…”

  “It’s okay,” I assure her.

  I know exactly what she means. By avoiding the funeral, she avoids the reality that Eli’s really gone. Honestly, all I’ve wanted to do is hide in my bed the same way, ignoring the truth, for the past four days. The only reason I’ve tried to be strong is for my parents.

  “Now I know why he never…he never wanted me,” she says sadly. “And it wasn’t because…I was the pastor’s daughter.”

  “He did want you,” I tell her. “Eli loved you.”

  My brother cared about Megan; I know he did. Otherwise, he would’ve broken up with her instead of continuing to lie to her. Or, I guess it’s possible that he could have been using her to hide his real sexuality, scared of the fallout...

  “Eli loved Nate!” Meg says angrily, slamming her fists weakly against my chest. “I saw the way they…they looked at each other. He wouldn’t touch me, but they were probably fucking each other! It was all a lie!”

  “Shh,” I say to try and calm her down. “We don’t know that.”

  “I do,” Meg replies. “Now it seems so obvious. Why…why didn’t he just tell me? The last thing he said to me was a lie.”

  “I don’t know why he lied,” I tell her. “Maybe he just didn’t want to hurt us.”

  “Pfft,” she scoffs through tears that are starting to soak through my shirt. “He hurt us in the worst possible way. And now he’s gone so I can’t even be angry at him!”

  “It’s okay to be angry,” I tell her, glad to hear I’m not the only one. “I’m angry too.”

  “God, Luke. I’m so sorry. You just lost your brother, and I’m being such a bitch,” Meg says, reaching up and feeling around in the darkness lit only by the dim light shining in from the hallway to grasp my face between her hands.

  “You’re not being a bitch,” I assure her. She’s the sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever met and I could never think that about her. “And I don’t know what Eli was thinking or why he lied, but he was crazy for wanting anyone else when he had you.”

  “You really think so?” Meg lifts her head and asks with a sniffle. She’s so close that our noses rub against each other with her palms still cupping the sides of my face. I wish the lights were on in here so that I could see her emerald eyes and she could see the truth in my blue ones when I answer.

  “Yes,” I tell her with a nod of my head that causes my lips to brush over hers. Before I can apologize, though, our mouths briefly sweep over each other again, and then again. I hold still, my body frozen with guilt, confusion, and anticipation until I feel the wet swipe of her tongue stroking mine. A jolt of electricity spreads through my body, warming and tingling me down my stomach and spine, settling heavily in my cock. I keep my hips away from Meg’s so that she hopefully won’t notice my embarrassing arousal from just a kiss.

  There’s no denying that it’s nice to just hold her and let the grief and the rest of the world disappear for a few moments until she eventually comes to her senses and stops kissing me. That’s all this is, both of us are upset and emotional, wanting a distraction from the misery. In fact, I’m telling myself I need to stop this when Meg’s hand reaches down and cups my swollen dick through my suit pants.

  “Shit! I’m sorry,” I hiss through my teeth, ashamed because my lower body ignores my order to settle down and thrusts into her grip instead.

  “You want me?” Meg asks softly while continuing to stroke my hardening cock.

  “Yes,” I answer since there’s no way to deny it when she’s currently holding the physical proof in her hand.

  Shocking the shit out of me, Megan pops the button on my pants and tugs the zipper down, the noise loud in the silent bedroom, other than our rapid, labored breaths. When her small palm slips underneath the waistband of my boxer briefs and grips my cock, my flesh against hers, all thoughts in my head disappear except for two --- I need to get naked, and I need to get inside of her. It’s more than a need, it’s a necessity at this point. A primal urge that can’t be denied.

  Everything happens so fast from there. After our kiss grows urgent and desperate, Meg frees my dick from my boxers and then grabs my hand, shoving it between her legs that are now bare, her pajama bottoms and panties long gone. I think I know what she wants, but I’ve only fooled around with a girl once at church camp, and it’s hard to think with her hand still on my cock. As our tongues tangle in a hot kiss, my fingertips rub back and forth through her patch of soft curls that are turning damp before I eventually push one into her opening.

  “Oh God,” she moans, but I’m not certain if that’s a good sign or not.

  “Feel okay?” I ask to make sure before I do anything else.

  “Yes, more,” she orders before her mouth covers mine again.

  Our tongues grow frantic in each other’s mouths as our hips start to rock. My cock’s already dripping and close to coming in Meg’s fist when she lets go of it to tug on my shoulders, pulling me on top of her. With my pants undone and her naked below the waist, her thighs spread wide, our lower bodies line up perfectly. Her wet heat coating the head of my cock is too tempting. I need more of that sensation. I want it soaking my length.

  When my hips shove forward, the tip of my cock slips into her
tightness. Megan gasps and grips my shoulders tighter, telling me what I had assumed --- I think I just took her virginity and gave her mine.

  “You still okay?” I ask, my biceps shaking as I hold myself above her and try to keep from moving or coming.

  “Yes. Don’t stop,” she urges in the darkness.

  About six deep thrusts later and I’m spilling my release inside of her, the tremors of pleasure rolling through me as my hips pump erratically.

  Exhaustion suddenly weighs heavily on me as the orgasm begins to fade. It’s been days since I’ve slept for more than an hour or two. My body flattens against Meg’s as I start to catch my breath.

  The reason I’m here with her, in her bed and under our pastor’s roof lands on my back like a ton of bricks raining from the sky about the same time her body begins to shake underneath me with her sobs.

  Fuck.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  “I’m sorry, Luke,” Meg says between sniffles. “We shouldn’t…you should…you should go.”

  I’m such a fucking fool.

  This was nothing more than a revenge fuck. Megan never wanted me. She wanted Eli and was angry at him for lying to her and not being here. And I was an idiot for taking advantage of Meg while she was so upset. She just misses Eli. I do too, and now I feel guilty like he knows what I did behind his back and what an asshole I was on the same day as his fucking funeral.

  Tears fall silently down my cheeks after I climb off of Meg and quietly zip up my pants and put on my shoes before walking out the front door. In a blurred haze, I drive home and head right up the stairs past our guests to shower and try to wash away the sin and betrayal. The grief and guilt threatens to consume me as I lean my head back against the shower wall and watch the water wash the proof of taking Megan’s virginity and losing my own swirl down the drain.

  …

  Remembering the way Megan talked about Eli not wanting her and how things felt that night we were together, it seems pretty damn unlikely that Eli could be the father of her son.

  But there’s a very good chance that the boy may be mine.