Tapped (Totaled Book 2) (26 page)

            I tried to shove the package into my gym bag before others started coming in, but it was huge and bulky, requiring me to unpack some stuff to fit it all in and zip it up completely. It felt like a blanket or towel through the wrapping. How she managed to sneak into the men’s locker room and deliver something without drawing attention was a mystery. I couldn’t help being impressed at her
Mission: Impossible
covert action.

            She was really starting to get more daring in her contact; I feared it would fall back on me if it were discovered. I couldn’t afford for anything to go south with this fight, but couldn’t deny the thrill of seeing her handwriting. I walked out to the main gym with a smile on my face, wide and bold with excitement, thinking about my beautiful Bree and wondering what on earth could possibly be in the package.

            Until I saw Brock Woods heading in my direction. Again. He tried to make himself walk a little bit taller, scoffing as he passed me as if to say, “I dare you.”

            My moment of elation was fleeting, ruined by Brock’s cocky bravado.
She looked real cozy leaving with him. She didn’t come back after she left, all day.
I couldn’t get his words out of my head. He pissed me off to no end. Whether there was any truth to it or not, I walked to the mat ready to kick some ass.

Chapter Thirty-Two

DREW

            Once I returned home from our afternoon session, I bee lined it for my back deck to open my gym bag. Wrapped crudely in plain brown paper, the gift from Bree wasn’t heavy but was awkwardly shaped, and I was able to bend it around to shove it into the bag. I could barely zip it all the way closed. Hoping I hadn’t damaged it, I carefully removed it from my gym bag and began unwrapping it. There didn’t appear to be any note with it, but I soon realized why it didn’t need one.

            She had left me a beautiful blanket—a soft fleece throw large enough for me to bundle up with on the couch or wherever. It was my favorite color, a deep azure blue. It had always reminded me of the ocean and I remembered us asking each other one day about our favorite colors. She had said it was her favorite before I did and I subconsciously added it to my mental list of reasons we belonged together.

            On the corner of the blanket was embroidery, crisp white words in a curly script.

To keep you warm when I can’t.

            On the opposite corner, there was another message for me in the same font and thread color. I bundled the fabric to turn the blanket around so I could read it.

I love you.

More than anything!

            If she were sitting in front of me in that very moment looking for a response, I would’ve been speechless. Completely, utterly, absolutely speechless. I exhaled a long sigh of contentment and felt more loved than ever before. This small gesture of affection meant more to me than any gift I’d ever received. And she just kept coming with them. She always knew how to wiggle herself in and let me know she was thinking of me, rooting for me, in my corner supporting my every move.

            She had done it our entire relationship, constantly sending or leaving small tokens along the way of our falling in love with each other. Sometimes it was just a note or card, or my favorite candy left behind in my bag for a sweet treat after a workout. Other times it was more thoughtful, like when I found the four leaf clover in my luggage for luck before my first UFC fight in Atlanta. It was unbelievable to me that she was still making her presence known even in what I considered our darkest hour to ensure that I felt her. It was working. She was making sure I knew she loved me and wasn’t going anywhere. Her persistence was chipping away at my armor already, and as a soft glow of euphoria passed through me, I felt at peace, aware that she had penetrated it completely and reached me. I finally felt ready to receive her love and somehow, I needed to return it. I needed to show her that I loved her too and I was determined to make it all right.

            I showered off my workout and nuked one of the prepared meals I’d ordered from a company that delivers packaged and measured foods for people training. They were the exact calorie count and protein/fat/carbohydrate balance I required when I was putting my body through such high physical demands. They were certainly no match in taste for Joan’s or Bree’s cooking, but they were necessary. I didn’t have time to cook and people make poor choices when they don’t prepare. My body needed the right fuel and the right amount of it to perform, so taste had to come second.

            It wasn’t easy, trying to figure out a way to show her that her message was not only received but appreciated. I knew I had to tread lightly and be so incredibly careful with my reply, as we were both being watched by everyone. It had to be small in size but big in spirit. I strolled down to the beach, knowing that my mind worked best when my toes were in the sand. I didn’t have to walk for long when it hit me. It was perfect.

BREE

            Later that night, once I knew everyone was cleared out and the gym was closed, I went in to start my workday. It seemed odd, but I had to deal. I had taken a nap for a few hours and hoped it was enough to keep me awake to get my stuff done. Luckily, my hours were flexible. It wasn’t like I had to punch a card and be there for a set shift. I just had to do my duties and then I could go home and crash. It was hard to shake the mild creepiness that came along with arriving to work when it was already dark and going to stay dark, though. I’d always preferred going in first thing in the morning, often right before sunrise, to do the equipment cleaning, but this new arrangement was a whole new ballgame.

            It wasn’t that I was scared. I carried pepper spray, had a few self-defense moves under my belt, and we’d installed a much better security and camera system since the day I met Drew. I’ll never forget the day we met. Liam had left the front door unlocked and Drew walked right in. I was dancing around like a fool, completely zoned out to my music with my earbuds in and didn’t even hear him. When I felt the tap on my shoulder, I freaked out, went ballistic, and attacked, thinking that
I
was being assaulted. We could laugh about it now, thankfully. Well, we could if we were on speaking terms.

            No cars were parked in the lot and no one seemed to be lurking about, so I made my way inside and locked the building doors behind me. The first thing I did after setting my bags in the office was head to the locker room. I needed confirmation and hoped he left something—anything—in return.

            His locker was empty. A melancholy feeling spread swiftly from my hair to my toes. I was glad that he’d found it (and taken it) but so sad that I’d once again heard nothing from him. Unsure of just how much more my heart could take, I left the locker room with my head hanging lower.

            One great thing about working at night was how peaceful it was. It was astonishing how much more productive I was without the phone ringing off the hook and the constant interruption of people coming to my door needing one thing or another. I could blast
my
music throughout the whole gym and not have to listen to any grief. If I was in the mood for sad love songs, so be it. If I wanted to dance around to my angry gangsta rap playlist, it didn’t matter. The gym was in an old warehouse with no windows, so no passersby would see me dancing like a spastic lunatic. No one was here to pester me or bitch about anything. This night shift thing might just be the best thing ever.

            I must’ve answered a hundred emails, not thinking twice about the fact that my reply would be stamped with a bizarre time of day. My earlier conversation with Chris Gibson, Drew’s agent, went great. He couldn’t have been more excited to hear that Drew had been challenged to a fight. Chris apparently had a longstanding grudge against Hayes Knox and his whole team so that made him even more eager to get the arrangements taken care of.

            I had an email from him complete with Drew’s contract and the details of his financial gain, should he win the match. It was insane. The amount of money he was set to get should he actually pull this thing out was more than I’d make in ten years at my current salary. It wasn’t jealousy or envy that I felt, but pride. He deserved every penny for how hard he worked, especially battling issues in his personal life at the same time. I wished there was more I could do to help him. The forbidden contact was really getting to me.

            Sue was convinced that he was choosing his career over me, but this wasn’t a cut and dry case of either/or. We were all interconnected and I knew if I was persistent and patient, we could be together. I
knew
him—really knew him. And I trusted my gut instinct on this whole thing. I was confident that I could respect my father’s wishes while showing Drew that I wasn’t giving up on us. I just had to hope that my heart wouldn’t be shattered at the end of all of this.

DREW

            Soon, I was driving back to the gym, knowing that she would be there. I made sure to park far away so that I didn’t bring any attention to myself, leaving my truck in the corner of the nearby fish distribution harbor. Once confident that I was hidden enough, I took a chance and walked over to her car. Just as I expected, she’d left it unlocked, her innocent small-town mentality unbroken even with all the times I’d warned her that it was a bad habit. I was thankful for the access in that moment and placed her gift—my message—in the center of the front seat.

            Fearing getting caught, I quickly made my way back to my vehicle, my heart racing with adrenaline. I was hidden, but if I leaned forward and over to my left, her car was visible. I couldn’t bring myself to leave. For one, I wanted desperately to see her face and watch her reaction when she found my gift. But it was also the middle of the night and I was appalled that Pat thought it was safe enough to allow her to be by herself in the gym. Behind locked doors with an alarm system was one thing, but nothing would protect her when she was walking to and from her car. I had to stay and make sure she was okay, no matter how tired it made me tomorrow.

BREE

            The office work was done and the gym was pristine once I’d completed my deep clean. The equipment was all sanitized and put in order, the mats mopped and dried, the mirrors shiny and sparkling. I felt accomplished and wasn’t dead dog tired as I expected, so I kept going until it was all done the right way. It was just after two in the morning when I resolved myself to head home. I forwarded the gym office phones to my personal cell so I could deal with any emergencies from home in the morning and glanced at the camera views of the parking lot to make sure that there wasn’t anything suspicious outside. No one was out there that I could see.

            I set the alarm and walked outside, locking the side door behind me. The soft glow of the streetlights lit the path to my car. I threw my stuff in the back seat first. The second I opened the driver’s side door, I saw it. He’d been there.

            I bent down and picked up a small seashell, holding it up for the light of the street lamp to illuminate. It wasn’t just any shell, but one that he’d found and selected just for me. It was broken, but its edges were rounded and smoothed by the rolling waves and sand. It was battered but beautiful, perfectly imperfect in its transformed state…the shape of a heart.

            Closing my fist around it, I brought it to my chest and glanced left and right for any sign of him, but no one was there. The streets were empty and the night quiet. A lone tear trickled down my cheek and an overwhelming sense of relief came over me. He was finally trying, finally taking a risk to show me that he was at least thinking of me, if not ready to love me again. It was more valuable than any gift he could’ve purchased at a store. But the ocean—our place—had so impeccably produced this symbol for him to tell me that he was in. I drove home on cloud nine, knowing that all of my tenacity was now justified. We could beat this. We were going to make it. I
knew
it now. 

Chapter Thirty-Three

DREW

            I was beat from our intense training sessions. The fact that I spent the majority of my nights sitting in my car up at the gym to make sure Bree made it home safely didn’t help my physical exhaustion. I felt like a grade A stalker but oh well. Moving the truck closer was dicey, since I didn’t want her to see me, but I wanted to have a clear view of her car as well as the door she used.

            She hadn’t left behind any more locker gifts but did something different to send me a message. It was ballsy and I was amazed at how bold a statement it was, but everyone was so focused on everything else that they didn’t read into it. Or if they did, they didn’t verbalize it. When we walked into the main gym this morning, we were greeted by a huge black and red decal on the wall.

If you want something bad enough, you FIGHT for it!

            It was decorative and motivational, completely appropriate for the gym and applicable to everyone, but I knew it was a message for me. It made me smile; I was impressed and smiled at the image in my head of her cute little ass on top of a ladder to stick the decals on all by herself. It looked professionally done, of course, and I should’ve smacked myself for ever having a doubtful thought about her. My confidence in us grew and I pushed myself even harder during training. She was fighting for me, so I
had
to fight for her.

            Dr. Greiner had been on my ass for a few days to make time to see him and although I really wasn’t especially eager to, it truly was a scheduling issue. He had offered to drive to Fernandina so I took him up on it and we planned to meet that evening at my house. I even made spaghetti—a meal that was quick and near impossible to screw up. And who didn’t like spaghetti? I assumed it was safe.