Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel (9 page)

“C-Cutter,” the goddess stammers. “What are you doing here?” The voice. Oh God, that voice. It’s the very same one that haunts my dreams.

“Jo?” I ask, needing to confirm that my eyes and brain are communicating properly—needing to make sure this is real and not some drunken mirage.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she whispers, almost angrily.

“You look fucking amazing. God. I’ve missed you.” I reach for her, but Jo takes a step back and looks down the hall, refusing to meet my eyes.

“I’ve got to go.” She seems panicked, scared even.

“Hell no. I’ve waited almost three years to touch you. I deserve an explanation. Don’t run from me again. This time I’ll chase.”

“Cutter, please,” she begs, and tries to maneuver around me.

“We need to talk.” All of my drunken haze has worn off, and the anger and sadness she caused me resurface with a vengeance not even my screaming bladder can hold back. “And we’re talking right fucking now.”

Grabbing her wrist, I drag her into Garrett and Rian’s room and shut the door. Josette looks around, probably seeking some sort of escape route, but her shoulders sag when she realizes that unless she wants to jump out a window she’s stuck with me for the duration of this conversation.

“Can we do this anywhere but here?” she asks.

“We should have done this a long time ago.”

“If I knew you were going to be here, I wouldn’t have come, Cutter. I said all I needed to say in that email. It was a dumb, childish crush. That’s all.”

“You’re a damn liar,” I scream, my voice echoing off the walls. Regaining my composure, I look into her eyes for confirmation. She’s lying. Just like she did all those years ago, and probably still to this day. She loved me and, somewhere deep down inside, she might still love me.

Someone knocks on the door and I yell for them to go away. When they don’t listen, but instead open the door, I whip around, ready to chew someone’s head off, until I see it’s Rian.

“We’ll be out in a few. Sorry for the commotion and yelling at you,” I apologize to her, and then turn back to Josette.

“I just needed to bring something to Josette. You guys take as long as you need. You’ve got a lot to talk about.”

And just as I’m about to go nuclear and tell Josette all her bullshit little email put me through, a tiny, little, two-foot-tall blond angel who is the spitting image of me as a kid toddles her way to Josette and raises her arms.

“Momma. Up.” Two words is all it takes for me to fall in love with this pint-sized, perfect blend of me and Josette. But more than that, my heart shatters again and again, all because of this one woman. This time, I doubt I’ll ever heal as I look into a familiar set of eyes on this small body and know Josette stole at least two years of her life from me.

Unable to be in the same room as Josette, I wipe at my burning eyes to keep the tears from falling and walk toward the door. My hand touches the handle and I risk a painful glance back at what should have been my family. The family I wanted more than anything in the world, even though I conceded to Josette’s wishes to have an abortion. I honored her choice even though it ate me alive. I didn’t fight her on what was the biggest decision of her life— but instead of telling me she kept the baby, she hid my daughter away like a dirty little secret.

“You’re unbelievable” are the only words I can mutter before I clear out of the room. Out of the house and back to my apartment above the gym so I can think. Think of what, I have no fucking idea, but it seems like the appropriate thing to do at a time like this.

The last thing I ever expected walking into Garrett and Rian’s after years away was to be confronted by Cutter. I would have never accepted the invite had I thought for one second he’d be here. Shit, not even twenty-four hours ago, I was watching him fight at the MGM in Vegas. I had no reason to believe he’d be here, but I should have guessed, knowing how close he is to them.

When Rian reached out, it seemed right to come. They are Cutter’s family and I figured I could seek some advice from Rian about how to approach the subject of Bethany with Cutter. She’d be the one to know if he’d be excited or pissed as hell. I needed her advice, but I never got the chance to ask. She said she’d talk to me after the shower, maybe even host a little sit-down between Cutter and me to keep things civil, but we didn’t get that chance because I had to pee. Cutter’s reaction, however, is the exact reason I kept my mouth shut.

In our last face-to-face conversation, I’d told him I was having an abortion and spouted a bunch of shit about my life goals and how I couldn’t accomplish them and be a mother at the same time. We’d agreed on what to do and that was that.

Then I changed my mind. I couldn’t go through with it. I decided that I’d have to be a mom and figure everything out from there. So I left that ridiculous message for Cutter, quit the gym, and started making plans to move on with my life. I wasn’t being mean or deceitful; I was being selfish. He and I had come to an agreement and decided to follow our dreams, but when I heard Bethany’s little heartbeat, everything I’d ever wanted for myself went right out the window.

The night before my appointment, I tossed and turned about whether to call Rian to help me. I knew I should, but I couldn’t bring myself to dial the number. I knew what I wanted for my life, but for some reason I thought if Rian knew my plans, she would think less of me. So I went alone.

I had a moment of panic as I drove to the appointment, reassuring myself that I was making the right decision for me and Cutter. I sat in the quiet waiting room filled with at least half a dozen girls who had the same solemn expression on their faces. I remember wondering if they were at the clinic for the same reason as me, and it made my heart hurt. So many girls, so few chances at a real life by having a baby so young; only one real choice to make.

I filled out the paperwork. I waited for the nurse to call me to the back. When she finally said my name, I wiped my sweaty, shaky hands on my pants and followed her back to an exam room. I’d read online about what happens during the procedure, so I was as prepared as I could be, but in some twist of fate, the nurse didn’t ask me to undress from the waist down. Instead, she had me lie back on a bed, pull my shirt above my belly, and pull down my pants to my pubic bone. She placed a glob of goop on my stomach, reached for a wand, and pressed it firmly to my lower abdomen.

Then I heard it. The strangest swooshing sound. I instantly knew what I was hearing: my baby’s heartbeat. My entire life changed in those few seconds. With every swoosh, I fell more in love with someone I’d never met but knew better than anyone else in the entire world. And as if I wasn’t completely in awe already, the nurse lifted her head to meet my eyes and smiled.

“Everything sounds great, Nicole,” she said with a smile.

“No. My name’s Josette,” I corrected. “Josette Morelli.”

“I am so sorry.” She looked at the paperwork again. “It looks like I grabbed your folder, but I must have gotten the wrong chart to put inside. Give me just one second.” She barreled out the door, face flushed with embarrassment. But I wasn’t upset in the least. For whatever reason, she messed up that day and I’ll forever be grateful for her mistake. If she hadn’t thought I was there for a prenatal check-up, I wouldn’t have Bethany, and life doesn’t seem worth living without her adorable chubby cheeks, giant blue eyes, and smile to melt even the most frozen hearts.

I pulled up my pants, wiped off my belly, pulled down my shirt, and fled that clinic. I knew my path had changed and what I was meant to do with the gift I was given. Only I knew that Cutter wasn’t ready, and we’d agreed on our decision just a few days before. It wasn’t fair of me to change my mind without giving him a chance to debate my choice, so I vowed to leave him be—let him live his life how he saw fit, without interruption from me or Bethany.

I finished the semester of school, had Nichelle help me move into a small one-bedroom apartment the next town over, and got a job waiting tables. I saved every penny I made and did side jobs bookkeeping for a few smaller businesses from home in the evenings. I wasn’t wealthy by any means, but I was making it and had enough of a nest egg saved up for when Bethany came.

And she came blazing into this world on a hot summer night in the middle of a tornado warning. I’d never been more terrified in my entire life. I wanted Cutter beside me. I wanted a familiar face, but I couldn’t have one there. I knew if I called Rian, she’d tell Cutter and that would defeat my plan. So I sucked it up and gave birth to a beautiful seven-pound, three-ounce little girl without anyone to share it with. I cried when she wouldn’t latch onto my breast, I cried when she cried, I basically cried for a lot of reasons, mostly because I was so in love my heart couldn’t handle it. And then I cried for Cutter.

I missed him more than I cared to admit.

Hell, I still miss him. A lot.

Soon after Bethany was born, I started attending night classes to finish my degree. I took accelerated courses and graduated in one semester the year she was born. I took an entry-level position at a firm downtown, and after only one year, they realized my potential and drive and gave me a more lucrative job. I’m still not rich, but I’ve traded in my one-bedroom apartment for a three-bedroom single-story house just outside the city limits. It’s pretty amazing, and it’s all mine and Bethany’s.

So, you see, I was giving—more like allowing—Cutter to have a chance to continue his path without adding the burden of a child to his already full plate. I had to break up with him. He would have known something was different. He would have come home and given up everything to do the honorable thing, and, for the first time in his entire life, he deserved to be selfish with his dreams. God knows his parents did a number on him. I couldn’t be another person in his life who stole things from him. He deserved more. Better.

As the time went by, it got harder not to tell him. A few times I picked up the phone to spill the beans, but I could never stay on the line long enough for the call to connect. The last time I tried, I was dead set on pulling off the Band-Aid. Bethy was maybe six months old; she’d stopped looking like a blob of baby and her features were 100 percent Cutter. I needed him to know we created something so perfect. I poured myself a glass of wine once Bethany went to bed, pulled out my phone, and made the mistake of opening my notifications first. A Google alert I had set on Cutter so I could follow his career said he was getting his first MMA televised fight.

He’d made it. Set out to accomplish his dream and really, truly had done it. He was getting his dream.

I cried while I finished the bottle of wine. Happy tears, of course. I felt so much pride. Then I cried myself to sleep knowing that telling him would do nothing but ruin his seemingly perfect life. It was my burden to bear.

Now Bethany has everything she needs and most of what she wants, as a two-year-old, anyway. But now Cutter knows and he’s pissed. Rightfully so, but I’m terrified. Looking back, I still stand by my choices, I just hate that he had to find out this way, and even more I’m pissed Rian set me up like this.

Storming out of the room with Bethany on my hip, I pause at a group of moms with toddlers of their own, all playing with dolls. Setting Bethany down, I take a deep breath and march over to Rian.

“Can we talk, please?” I ask, anger and frustration dripping from my voice.

She excuses herself from the guests and leads me out back where Garrett’s sitting.

“I just came out again to escape the madness. Can’t you girls talk about girl shit someplace else?” Garrett whines, and I roll my eyes.

“Did you set this up? Get me and Cutter in the same room to—what? Talk through whatever?” I ask Rian, ignoring Garrett’s request.

“That’s what you want to be mad about? You’re going about this all wrong, young lady,” Rian responds, obviously taking Cutter’s side, although I shouldn’t have expected anything different.

“Wait? What’s going on? Why are you fighting?” Garrett interjects, suddenly interested in our “girl shit” conversation. “We didn’t know Cutter was coming until last night. What does it matter, anyway? I know the boy has it bad for you, but you broke up with him.”

“Yeah, Josette. Why’s it matter?” Rian jeers.

“Rian,” I plead. “Please.”

“Are you embarrassed? Ashamed? Can’t even stand your own damn self?” Rian keeps prodding.

I’m about three seconds away from a nuclear meltdown of epic proportions. “I didn’t know what to do. You said you’d help me figure it out. After the party. You were going to help me find a way to tell him, Rian. And you didn’t. Now he’s hurt. I’m hurt. We’re all hurt.”

“You’ve really lost me now. Who needs telling what? Can someone fill me in? I know I’m a little drunk, but the more you talk the harder it is to follow.” Garrett leans over the table, his face contorted with confusion.

“Oh, for Christsakes, Garrett. I’ll fill you in later,” Rian answers for the both of us.

“The hell you will. I’ve got a woman who looks like she’s a few notches past crazy getting wordsy with my wife, and it’s got something to do with Cutter, who might as well be my own damn son, as much as I’ve taken care of him. Plus, my wife is pregnant as hell and doesn’t need this kind of stress. So, one of you, out with it. What the hell is going on?” Garrett’s face turns a couple shades past opening up a can of whoop-ass. Before Rian can answer for me, I take the lead. It’s about time I did the telling around here.

“Before Cutter left for Vegas, we found out I was pregnant—”

Rian interrupts, “He knew you were pregnant? And left you high and dry?” The look of shock and disgust on her face only infuriates me, that she thinks Cutter could ever be that kind of man, especially with how his childhood was.

“No!” I yell, then compose myself before finishing. “We decided I was getting an abortion, only I couldn’t go through with it. I didn’t know how to tell him, so when I got the shower invite, I thought you could help me figure it out—if I should tell him, when, how. I didn’t know he was here, so I stayed a little to enjoy the party, then I ran smack into him and he saw her. Long story short, Garrett: the one with the pink leggings, black shirt, and blond pigtails…she’s my and Cutter’s daughter.”

“Well, that’s fucking easy. Tell the boy. He’d make a great dad. What’s the problem here?”

“Garrett.” Rian sighs. “Keep up. He found out on his own about fifteen minutes ago and stormed out of the house. Car’s still in the driveway, so I guess he walked back to the apartment.”

“He’s staying here? For how long?” I ask, shocked and unsure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

“Not sure, but I hope it’s long enough to get your shit together. Your daughter deserves a dad, and Cutter deserves his child.” Rian is so matter-of-fact, I don’t know why I didn’t come to her sooner.

“I just don’t know if that’s even going to work. We’ve both moved on with our lives. We both have the jobs we always dreamed of and I’m pretty sure he’s found someone new.”

“Josette, I’m going to be real honest right now,” Garrett softly says, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Cutter most likely will never forgive you for what you did, but that shouldn’t carry any weight. This isn’t about you. It’s about that man and his child. Time for you to handle the shit show you created and deal with the consequences.”

I guess I just need a game plan before I speak to Cutter next. Garrett’s right. Bethany deserves her dad and we’ll figure out a way to make it all work. We have no other choice because I doubt Cutter is going to let me walk away with Bethany like nothing ever happened. He wants his daughter as much as I do.