My phone rings and Ford's name lights up the screen. I debate not answering it, but decide to just get it over with.
“Yeah?” I answer.
“Listen, I'm sorry. I was a little too hard on you back there. I wasn't very nice to you and you didn't deserve that.” He takes a breath. “I'm under a lot of pressure at work, especially with this new promotion.”
Two apologies from Ford in one day? It must be a full moon.
“How did you know my source was a he?”
I hear paper rustling in the background. “What?”
“You heard me, Ford. How did you know it was a guy?”
“What exactly is it that you're accusing me of, Alyssa? You act like you don't trust me anymore.”
He sighs when I stay silent. “I assumed it was a guy because you're a beautiful young woman walking into a goddamned underground fight club. For crying out loud, you went undercover as a ring girl. Not only would it make sense, but it would be smart for your target to have been male. Why do you think I asked you to do it in the first place? Trust me, none of my female agents look like you.”
I hear the call waiting signal on the other line. I smile when I see Jackson's name.
“Okay fine. I gotta go. Bye, Ford.” I go to press the button to hang up but his voice stops me. “Wait a minute, sweetheart.”
“What?”
“Are we okay? Because I really don't like that you felt the need to question me. You know I would never do anything to hurt you, right? I love you.”
I roll my eyes because he's already hurt me too many times to count in my short 24 years, despite his love for me. “Yeah, I know. We're fine. Look, I have to go. I have another call. It's important.”
I hang up without waiting for a response.
“Hey, you,” Jackson's voice greets me on the other line.
Wow, do I love the sound of his voice.
I get so lost in that thought, my keys slip out of my hands when I go to open the front door.
“Hey,” I respond. “What's up?”
“Just wanted to make sure you made it home okay.” He pauses. “I got a little worried when you didn't respond to my text. I hope I didn't freak you out.”
I mentally curse myself for never responding to him earlier. “You didn't. I was at the cemetery visiting my dad when I got it, though. I'm actually just walking in the door now.”
I don't tell him about Ford...for obvious reasons. There's no way he'll understand our fucked up dynamic. Hell, I've never understood it. Not to mention, he'll probably be upset that I lied to him in the first place.
“Oh.” I hear him draw in a breath. “I'm sorry.”
Neither of us say a word for what feels like forever.
I plop down on the couch. “Cue the awkward silence that death always ensues.”
“You'd think we'd be experts at getting around it, huh?” He clears his throat. “Okay, change of subject. How was the rest of your day? Did you do anything else?”
“Nope, just that.”
“That's good.” He sounds relieved...which is interesting.
“What exactly did you think I'd be doing, Jackson?”
“Nothing,” he quickly says. “I'm just happy to hear that you weren't doing anything.”
He curses under his breath. “That did not come out right.”
I decide to cut to the chase. “Is that your weird way of saying you're happy to hear that I wasn't hanging out with another guy today?”
“Yeah,” he admits. 'Yeah, I guess it is.”
“I haven't.” I sit up and cradle the phone in my ear. “I haven't been with anyone since before we met.”
Since the night he saved me from that guy in the parking lot, I think before his voice interrupts my thoughts. “Is it wrong that it makes me really happy to hear that?”
“That all depends. Have there been any other girls in your bed beside me lately?”
“What?” he says. “No. Not at all.”
“Then it's not wrong. Because that makes me really happy as well.”
“Good. I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow, Jackson. Good luck with your fight.”
“Thanks. By the way,” he says before we hang up. “My sheets still smell like you. And I fucking love it.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jackson
Ricardo was right, tonight ended up being a big fight for me. I won, but my opponent was a good 3 inches and 45lbs heavier than me.
He also managed to land not one, but two, solid punches straight into my rib cage. Making it the second time I've been hit now during a match. He knocked the wind out of me for a moment.
But then I thought about Alyssa...and how I needed to make it out of there in one piece so I could take her out for her birthday tonight.
It was strange because it was the first and only time I didn't think about the night Lilly was murdered while in the cage.
I'm not sure how I feel about it. I need that pain as my fuel. I need it as a reminder to never forget. A reminder to never forgive myself for what happened to Lilly.
I'm standing in the mirror putting tape across my ribs when I hear a knock on the dressing room door. “Yeah,” I say.
The door opens and it's the last person I want to see standing there. She's out of her fucking mind if she thinks I want to talk to her. “Get the fuck out,” I bark.
“I'm sorry, Jackson,” Lou-Lou says.
“Doesn't matter. You crossed a line that never should have been crossed.”
“I was hurting.”
I spin around and face her. “Hurting? Really? That's the best you got?” I scream. “Hurting,” I grit. “Hurting is having someone set you up with a sex tape. Hurting is finding out that the night you lost your virginity was posted online without your consent for all the world to see!”
To her credit, she blanches. “I didn't...”
“Yeah, that's just it, Lou-Lou ...you didn't. You didn't stop and think about how fucked up it was to play that tape in front of everyone. You didn't stop and think about how it would make me feel. Hell, you didn't even stop and think about how Ricardo would react to you pulling some shit like that.”
She steps back and looks at me. “Wow, you're really falling for her.”
I stop and think about this for a second.
No, I'm not in love with her. Not that I would know because I've never let myself fall in love before. But logically, I know I'm not in love because we've only known one another for a month. However, if there's a phase that comes right before love. Well, I might just be there. And something tells me that I am going to end up falling in love with her, whether I want to or not.
“This isn't about me,” I argue. “What you did was wrong.”
“I know and that's why I'm apologizing to you. I was jealous.”
Before I can cut her off and tell her that I've never given her a reason to be jealous because I've turned down every advance she threw my way, she continues, “I've never had a guy look at me the way you look at her. I've never had someone defend me the way that you defend her. Or protect me, or care about me. I've never had someone in my corner...not once. I mean, why the hell do you think I'm like this in the first place?”