Read Tapped (Totaled Book 2) Online
Authors: Stacey Grice
“How do I know when I’m ready? Because I don’t feel ready to do that. How do I get to that point?” I fired off in a hurry, my desperation and vulnerability lacing my frantic words.
“We’ll continue to work together on the EMDR sessions and other therapy exercises until you come to that place. This will only bring you pain until the fever breaks. Once you turn that corner, the true therapy begins. I had you write a letter to your father for a reason. Did you complete that task?” His eyes bore into me like a professor demanding his assignment and knowing you didn’t have it.
“I wrote it but ripped it up,” I answered shamefully. “It was just an angry rant of cursing and yelling, anyway. I’m sure that’s not what you wanted.”
“No, Drew. That’s
exactly
what I wanted. It’s what I expected. You’re furious about the pain he put you through. I knew you would scream it out onto the paper.” I gazed back, surprised and equally impressed. “The next step is to write another one, but this time it will be a goodbye letter.”
“Just tell him goodbye? Good fucking riddance!” I barked.
“Not entirely. You have to face it all and send it away. You have to say goodbye to everything you’re still carrying around. Get rid of it. Let it all go. Gone, forever out of your mind—your memories, your life.”
“And then what?” I queried, fascinated but terrified.
“And then we burn it.
You
burn it and watch the flames swallow all of it up and die.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
BREE
Another week passed with no word or sign from Drew. I know he received the sound machine because I got the delivery confirmation but was in the dark as far as his reaction. He could’ve loved it, hated it, or been indifferent. I got radio silence. No one apparently cared to keep me in the loop on anything related to Drew. I got little pieces as I could from Liam—“he’s still training, Bree”—but essentially I had no clue how he was actually doing.
So I went on about my boring life of gym keeper by morning, homemaker by day, student by night. Even Sue had made herself scarce, citing the demands of nursing school. I understood. Truly, I did. It was just lonely and I caught myself more often than not getting distracted from my daily, mundane tasks by thoughts of Drew. I was lost in one of those very daydreams when my father knocked and walked into the office, his face hard with determination.
“What’s up?” I asked as he took a seat across the desk from me.
He drew a long breath into his lungs and I saw the muscles of his jaw clench before he spoke. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, his eyes tense and fixed on me.
I reached over and muted the ringer on the phone, signaling that he had my full attention. I couldn’t help but feel nervous. “Go on.”
“I need to get Drew back in the gym—
our
gym.”
“Is something wrong?” My heart fluttered and my stomach grew unsettled. “What happened?”
“Nothing’s happened…well, not yet.” He fumbled his words and hesitated with more details, his eyes darting upward while he collected his thoughts. “He’s been challenged.”
“Challenged to what? A fight?” My nerves relaxed just enough for me to sit back into my chair a little. Fighting, at least, was something I knew. “Who? Where?” I fired off. “
When?
”
“Hayes Knox wants a fight with him.” He all but snarled; it obvious in his tone how he felt about the guy.
“I’m sorry…you mean Hayes Knox, who’s currently ranked in the top ten in his class, wants a fight with
Drew
?” I was in complete disbelief.
“That’s right. You heard correctly. Ninth-ranked Hayes Knox wants a fight with our guy.” He was so proud, his chest visibly puffing as he informed me of the details. “His agent just called me, said he’s already spoken to Dana and if we agree to the nitty-gritty, he’s up for putting them on the card for three weeks from now.”
“
Three weeks
?” I shouted. “Can he be ready in three weeks? Where is it?”
I watched him lean back in his chair and cross his arms, folding them in front of his chest before answering me. I raised my eyebrows in anticipation, my face pressing for answers.
The corners of his lips began to curve of a satisfied smile. “It’s in Abu Dhabi.”
If I would’ve been drinking something, I would’ve spit it across the table. “Abu Dhabi… as in the United Arab Emirates? Are you
serious
?” It would be cruel to joke about such a thing.
“That’s right. The Middle East. Paradise. Exposure on a worldwide stage, international recognition, the whole shebang. We can’t say no!” He beamed with excitement—almost giddy.
“Hold on,” I interrupted. “
We
don’t get to make this decision.
Drew
can say no.” I feared my father was blinded by ambition and the opportunity that this level of fight could bring and had forgotten the main ingredient. “What if he’s not ready? Is this really the healthiest choice for him right now?
His demeanor shifted, his boastful posture immediately deflating at my realization. “Bree, I understand this isn’t the best timing, but if he doesn’t grab this offer, if he doesn’t fight…it could be really bad career-wise.”
“I understand that, Dad, but you can’t jeopardize his health.” If he wasn’t going to keep the most important thing on the top of his priority list, I would. I loved this man. No fight in the world was so important that I would risk him getting hurt. “Why does Knox want to fight him anyway? He’s not even ranked.”
“He will be after this! No question about it,” he thundered. “Stefan Purifoy was ranked sixth when Drew beat him. It was a major upset by an unknown. And Knox didn’t move up in the rankings when Purifoy dropped out of them, so he’s pissed.” My eyes glazed over at the elation in my father’s voice. “He wants to show the world—literally, the whole world—that Drew Dougherty’s a nobody and the win was just a fluke.”
“Have you asked Drew?” I inquired, aching to know every word that was said, every undulation in his voice, how he felt about it all.
“No. I wanted to talk to you first to get your opinion. I’ll need your help, in more ways than one.”
He looked at me in expectation, waiting for me to continue. Again, I raised my eyebrows in question. How in the world was I supposed to help? He’d forbidden me to see or talk to Drew. Shouldn’t he be consulting Drew’s therapist?
“Well, how does this all work?” he insisted, just about choking on the difficulty of admitting that he had no clue.
Ahh, he means logistically. Not boyfriend/girlfriend emotionally. I sighed and grinned before blasting my honey-do list that would merely be a verbalization of all that
I’d
be tasked with taking care of. “He’ll need a passport, and quickly. I’m sure Chris can help expedite that.” Chris Gibson was Drew’s agent and a ball-busting spitfire when he needed to be. “Last I checked, Knox is fighting in the light heavyweight division. There’s no way Drew can drop enough weight.”
“He’s sitting at over 220 now so he’ll be in the mix of the heavyweights. Drew won’t have to drop any weight,” he reassured.
“Well, that’s good. But I definitely agree that he’ll need to be here, with you, to train.”
This was an idea that my father was visibly not too keen on. Not specifically Drew being here, but me
and
Drew being here. Everything about his body language screamed his discomfort, but he would have to learn to deal with it. I kept talking to get his mind back onto the fight and not my relationship—or whatever it was now.
“You’re going to need to speak to his doctor today, as soon as possible, to get his take on where he is in his therapy. And listen to him! If he tells you this isn’t a good idea, you need to respect that.”
His eyes snapped up and narrowed, obviously not appreciating my tone or my demand. I paused for him to get a word in, knowing he hated when I dominated the conversation. It would be better if I could make him think some of this was
his
idea.
“You can’t be here,” he declared. “Not when he is. We all need to come to an understanding. He’ll be on a strict schedule and you’ll have to be on the opposite schedule.”
I rolled my eyes like an insolent pre-teen feeling irritated once again at my unwarranted punishment for a crime I didn’t commit. I was now supposed to rearrange my entire life, yet again, for someone else.
“You can roll your eyes all you want, Bree, but these are my rules. Irregardless of how you feel about—”
“Regardless,” I mumbled, interrupting to correct the grammatical error that made me cringe every time I heard it.
“All right, Miss Know-it-all! You knew what I meant. And I’m serious! This isn’t a joke to me. I won’t budge on this.”
“I know!” I snapped, raising my voice louder than I should have. “I don’t expect you will. But we’re going to see each other eventually. This is a small town and you can’t cage me in.” I was sick and tired of feeling like I was grounded.
“I don’t want to have to feel like I’m caging you in. I want you to be on my team here, even though it’s not what your heart feels right now. I want you to respect me on this. It’s a great opportunity for him, and even though the timing isn’t the greatest, I think he
needs
this,” he confessed, his voice stern and unwavering. “I won’t have him distracted by you.”
Ouch.
That’s all I was now—a distraction. Something to pull his focus away from his purpose. It hurt.
After a few moments of stewing, I conceded defeat, knowing that it was what’s best for Drew. “I’ll need his training schedule and you guys have to be strict with sticking to it, if we’re to avoid each other. I still have a job to do. I’ll come in the evenings or early in the morning and be long gone before you all show up.”
He seemed pleased with my compromise and nodded.
“Do you want to handle calling Chris or should I?” he asked, almost making me laugh. I knew he would surely botch things royally if I delegated that to him.
“I’ll do it.” I went to pull up his number and had a sudden lightbulb moment. I didn’t want to call Chris before my dad proposed all of this to Drew. He was, after all, the one who had the final say. What if he didn’t want this? He saw my hesitation and furrowed his brow at me in contemplation. I sat back into my seat and verbalized my thoughts. “You need to ask him…Drew…you need to make sure this is what he wants.”
“I’m sure it will be,” he retorted with a cocky assurance, and started to leave.
“No,” I said plainly and firmly, stopping his retreat. He turned to look at me in shock. “I won’t do anything until he gives you the green light. He has to feel ready for this and you need to speak to his doctor first. We have to make sure.” He glared, like I’d just spit in his face. “You have your conditions, I have mine. This is a person here, not some animal you can just snap a whip at and make perform on demand. I love him.
You
love him. So we have to do right by him.”
He hung his head, apparently ashamed that he had done wrong already by not considering how Drew would possibly feel about the whole deal. But he nodded in agreement and pulled the door open to leave. “As you wish. I’ll let you know later today whether to make the call or not.”
I thanked him and leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling in wonder, the air immediately feeling lighter with his exit. I honestly didn’t know what he would do. My Drew would jump at this chance, not fearing any fighter of any rank. He would want this. I just didn’t know where his head was. I didn’t know what was going on with him at all, and it made me sick to my stomach with unease and uncertainty.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
DREW
“Pat? What a nice surprise!”
I was just finishing stirring the sugar into the freshly brewed iced tea when the doorbell sounded unexpectedly. My mood had been somber all day but I always tried to put on a brave face at dinner. Mick and Joan were so kind to me and I refused to drag them into my mess any more than they’d already been forced to. The somber mood instantly turned to dread when she greeted him at the door. He was an unexpected guest and she, of course, invited him to stay for dinner, always having prepared enough food for a few extra people. But his presence signaled that I was in some sort of trouble. It sucked to feel that way—to be scared of my coach. Everything had been so tenuous lately and I was walking on eggshells. The fact that Bree was attempting to keep in contact only complicated matters and I feared the worst.
He walked into the kitchen right behind Joan, smiling when he saw me.
“You’re letting this Arizona boy make the tea? Have you lost your mind, Joan?”
They laughed with each other at my expense. I smiled at him when I turned around to humor him.
“I’ve actually become quite good at making this syrup you Southerners call tea.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. The Spauldings here have obviously been influenced by your charm,” Pat teased, leaning in for a hug. I obliged him, meeting him halfway. He seemed like he was in too good a mood for me to be in any sort of trouble, so I went with it.
“Aww, you think I’m charming, huh?”
“Don’t get too excited!” he bit back, patting my back. “Where’s Mick?”
“He’s out back feeding the kids,” Joan said. “Let me grab you a glass, Pat.”