Undisputed (24 page)

Shaking her head, she says, “No, you were right. I needed to say something. It wasn’t doing me any good, keeping it bottled up. I’m just glad I know what’s going on with her now. I mean, it doesn’t really excuse it. She should never have been that hard to get ahold of. But I didn’t realize how badly she was handling the whole situation.”

I drain the last bit of my coffee before dropping the cup on the floor and stifling a yawn. The last twelve hours are finally starting to catch up to me.

After pulling my phone out, I find several messages from Tripp and Rebecca. I type a quick response to let them know I’ll explain everything later, and then I shove it back in my pocket.

“You should go home, Breccan. You must be exhausted, and there’s nothing to do here but wait.”

I shake my head. I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep if I went home anyway. “Nah. I’m fine. I’m not gonna leave you here alone. Plus, I want to be here when Connor wakes up.” I put an arm around her shoulder and pull her small body against mine.

She nestles into my side and doesn’t even bother stifling her yawn. “Okay. I won’t argue with you.”

Snuggling in a little deeper, we sit in silence. It isn’t long before her breathing evens out and I peek down and see that she’s sound asleep.

I try to focus on the muted TV in the corner. It’s an old episode of
Friends
. My eyes are heavy, and hard as I try, I can’t concentrate on the show. Promising myself that I’ll just rest for a few minutes, I let my eyes drift shut.

My eyes pop open when someone shakes my shoulders.

“Abby?” I say before yawning. I blink a few times and glance around.

There are two other people in the corner of the waiting room, both staring blankly at the TV, which still playing reruns of
Friends
. I wasn’t asleep long. Ross is still yelling, “Pivot!”

Sidney’s remains asleep on me, only now her mouth is hanging open and she’s snoring softly. Chuckling, I remind myself to give her a hard time about it later.

“Everything okay?” I ask, focusing by attention back on Abby.

“Connor’s awake. He’s asking for you.”

Relief washes over me. “Listen… About earlier. I’m sorry I was so short with you.”

She waves me off. “No, it’s okay. I get it. If I were you, I’d be pissed too. I’m actually glad you care about Sidney. And Connor. Really, don’t worry about it.”

Satisfied that things are cool between us, I shift in the chair and give Sidney a gentle nudge. Her eyes fly open, and she scrambles away from me.

Her voice is thick with sleep as she asks, “Is everything okay? What time is it?”

Abby checks her watch. “It’s almost two in the afternoon. Everything’s fine. Connor’s awake. But he’s asking for you.”

Sidney jumps to her feet and then reaches down to grab her purse from under the chair. She stumbles as she follows her sister down the hall, so I grab her waist to steady her.

Knocking lightly on the door, Abby peeks her head in. Sidney shoves past us both and makes a beeline for Connor’s side.

“Hey, buddy,” she says quietly. “You scared the shit out of me. Don’t do that again!” she scolds before leaning over and kissing his forehead.

For a moment, I feel like an intruder. Mother and aunt visiting the child they have raised together. And here I am, the what? Uncle-boyfriend? Fuck me.

I take a step backward, intent on leaving them alone. Sidney turns and wrinkles her eyebrows at me. I gesture that I’m just going to wait outside, but Connor stops me.

“Breccan?” he croaks. “Where ya going?”

I stop my retreat and take a couple of steps toward his bed. “Ah, nowhere, big man.”

Even though he’s awake, he’s still pale and his smile is weak. Seeing him like this causes my stomach to knot, and I rack my brain for something that will lighten the mood.

However, Connor gets there first.

“What were you doing in Aunt Sid’s room in the middle of the night?” he asks with a smirk on his face.

Freezing in place, I look to Sidney for an answer. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth gapes. Abby’s hand is covering her mouth, but the smile is evident in her eyes.

Clueless as to what to tell him, I sputter, “I was… Uh, well… You know…sometimes…” I search for the correct answer until Abby saves me.

“Connor, that’s none of your business. Sidney can have whomever she likes in her room. Isn’t that right, Sid?” Abby elbows Sidney in the ribs.

When Sid nods enthusiastically, I can’t help but laugh.

I wade in in an effort to change the conversation. “How are ya feeling, kid?”

He grimaces before answering, “Like shit.”

I chuckle when Abby and Sidney both groan at his language.

“Yeah, I bet, dude. You look like shit too,” I tell him, grinning. “You gave us a good scare. Me especially. I’m glad you’re doing better, but I gonna have to ask you to never pull that shit again.” I walk over to the recliner in the corner and settle in to it. “Mind if I hang here for a little while longer?”

“Man, I wish I had my Xbox. It’s about time I kick your butt again.” Connor grins.

“Yeah, right, dude. That was a fluke. You won’t be beating me again any time soon.”

Connor shakes his head before closing his eyes and settling back on the pillow.

I look over to where Sidney is hovering over Connor’s bed and beckon her over. “Sid, come sit with me.” I pat my lap.

She bends down and gives Connor one more loud kiss on his cheek. Even with his eyes closed, he wipes it off.

Laughing, she plops in to my lap. Abby takes the chair beside Connor’s bed, and we lapse in to a comfortable silence.

A couple of hours later, the doctor comes in and lets us know that Connor’s vitals have improved enough that he will be allowed to go home after a few of days of antibiotics. He stresses that, while the infection shouldn’t be taken lightly, it’s also not anything to be terribly concerned about.

After he leaves, Abby encourages Sidney and me to go home and get some sleep. The thought of climbing into my bed causes me to moan out loud.

With a wave at Connor, I take Sidney’s hand and lead her to my car. Not even bothering to ask, I drive straight to my apartment.

E
xhausted from the events of the last twenty-four hours, I didn’t even notice when Breccan bypassed the exit for my house. It wasn’t until he pulled into the underground parking garage that I realized he had taken me home.

His home.

After putting the car in park, he hops out, rounds the hood, then pulls my door open before I even have time to unbuckle my seat belt.

“Come on, beautiful. We have a date with my pillows.”

Too exhausted to do much more than nod, I allow him to loop his arm through mine and guide me to the door.

When we walk in, the same bellman as before does a double take when he sees us arm in arm. Smirking, I wink at him as we pass.

We ride in silence to the top floor. It’s nearly dinnertime, and with the exception of some vending-machine M&M’s I had to share with Abby, I haven’t eaten all day. I do a quick mental inventory of what I remembered was in Breccan’s fridge to see if there was anything I could cook.

We walk into the foyer, and Breccan drops his keys on the hall table before flicking the lights on and making a beeline towards the kitchen.

“Want a glass of wine?” he asked over his shoulder.

I stop in my tracks.

In front of me is the beautiful kitchen I lusted over the night before—destroyed. There were broken plates all over the floor and food smeared on the walls.

“Oh my god, Breccan! Someone destroyed your house!” I shout. “You should call the police.”

He doesn’t reply as he stands in front of the fridge, staring inside, completely unfazed by the disarray surrounding him.

Pulling out a bottle of beer and the wine he bought me before our fight, he sheepishly replies, “Nah. No one broke in. I do need to call someone to clean it up though.” After stepping over the mess, he pulls another plastic cup out of the cabinet and pours some wine. Then he holds it in my direction.

Taking the cup from him, I shake my head. “I don’t understand. What happened in here?”

The steak I cooked is lying in the floor, and there are green beans strewn across the counter tops. Realization finally dawns on me when Breccan refuses to make eye contact.

“You? You did this?”

Nodding, he takes a sip of beer. “I may have been a little upset after you left last night.”

Clamping my mouth shut, I simply nod. “Want me to help clean it up?”

“No. I’ve got someone who comes in and cleans for me a couple of times a week. I meant to call her this morning, but you know. Other things came up—” He’s interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Checking the ID, he groans. “Dammit.” Glancing back up at me, he mutters, “Let me get this.” Putting the phone to his ear, he barks out a curt, “What,” in lieu of a greeting and walks down the hall.

Having left last night without getting a grand tour, I’m curious as to what the rest of his apartment looks like.

The living room doesn’t have any framed pictures like the ones that cover every available surface of our home. The room has a large sectional, a coffee table and the biggest television I’ve ever seen, but aside from that it’s devoid of any personality. After wandering down the hall, I stop short when I hear him cursing.

“Fuck, Dad. No, I haven’t had time.”

I follow the sound of his voice into a large room with an incredible king-sized bed in the center. There’s a large portrait of Breccan hanging above the bed, and I walk forward until I’m directly in front of it. He’s standing inside the cage, his arms outstretched and the widest smile I’ve ever seen on his face. One eye is swollen nearly shut, and there’s a cut on his nose. A large championship belt is fastened around his waist.

Breccan speaks into the phone again, which tears my attention away from the portrait, and I glance over to where he’s standing. He’s facing away from me, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

After walking up behind him, I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my forehead between his shoulders. He sags before expelling a deep breath. The person on the other end of the line—his dad, apparently—seems to be yelling, but Breccan remains silent.

When there’s finally a break in the one-sided conversation, he says quietly, “Dad. I’ve had a rough night. No, I wasn’t out at a bar. I was with Sidney. No, you haven’t met her. Look, it’s really not a good time. No, I don’t know when I’ll get to it. I have a fight coming up. Yes, I’m still doing that fighting thing. Okay, I gotta go.”

Once he ends the call, he tosses the phone on his nightstand. Then he takes me in his arms. I hold him tight, relishing the strength of his arms around me.

After a few moments, I ask, “Want to talk about it?”

After pulling me over to the bed, he lies across it and drags me down on top of him. He kisses me deeply, finishing with a heavy, reverent sigh. “Thank you.”

Pushing up on his chest, I look down at him. “For what?”

“For calming me.”

I sweep my lips across his cheek and encourage him to continue.

“Dad never calls unless he needs to bitch at me. This time, it was about some paperwork he sent me. Wanted to know if I’d had the chance to look over it.”