The Exception(89)

But she can’t be. Not until I know that everything is okay. I can’t risk her safety by being with her all the time.

I needed Jada like I needed air. I wasn’t sure how in the hell I had gotten to that point or when it had happened, but I couldn’t really deny it.

I thought back up to the plans on my desk and laughed at myself.

I’m such a fucking tool.

I walked through the living room and into the guest bedroom I had converted into a workout room and grabbed my boxing gloves.

I need to stop the insanity now, while I can. I haven’t committed; I can still walk away. Go back to the way things were. Remember that? When you followed the rules? Things were easy. Fun. Focused.

I stuck my hands into one of the red gloves, laughing at myself.

Who am I kidding? I can’t go a fucking hour without thinking about her. There’s no way I can call anything off.

I got my other hand situated in its glove and stretched my arms out to the side. My body was tense, my muscles stiff. I threw out a couple of jabs, getting warmed up.

Why couldn’t Simon have stayed in California? Why did he have to move back to Phoenix a few months before Jada?

I threw a couple of jabs and followed them with my left hand, getting into the flow.

Did I really have that much bad fucking karma?

I began to pepper the bag with combinations, the sound of the gloves smacking the leather loud, but not louder than my thoughts.

The harder I threw, the madder I got. With each punch, a bit of the bullshit that clouded my fucking head cleared out and I was able to focus. Boxing had always done that for me, given me a way to see who I really was. What I really wanted.

The bag didn’t care who I was or what I should want. It stood in front of me and let me assault it, let me work shit out for myself without trying to talk me out of or into anything.

Regardless of what it takes, I am going to make this fucking work. If I have to kill the bastard myself, I will. But I won’t lose Jada over this. This may be a fucked up few months, at best, but she’s mine.

The bag bounced on its stand, shaking the chain that held it in place. The sound of my fists slamming into the leather was like music to my ears, reminding me that I was in control. I created my own destiny. I could get what I wanted.

I threw a hard overhand right and watched the bag shake until it stopped.

I have what I want. I want Jada Stanley. Fuck everything else.

I pulled my gloves off, my moment of clarity more like a moment of acceptance of the things I already knew, and picked up my phone.

Me: I miss you. Hope you’ve had a good night.

Jada: Just got into bed.

Me: I should be with you.

Jada: You know where to find me.

I smiled as I felt a pull overcome me to do just that: find her and never let her go.

Soon.

Me: I’m working on AH tonight. I have a few things I have to get worked out by Monday.

Jada: I heard Max talking about that. He said it was going to be the death of him.

I chuckled.

Me: He’s just wanting sympathy.

Jada: LOL

Me: I just wanted you to know that I was thinking of you. I’ll try to come by tomorrow, if that’s okay?

Jada: I’d love that. I miss you.

Me: Goodnight.

Jada: Goodnight <3

Me: Heart.





JADA

“You look like hell,” Kari observed the next morning, giving me a once over and wrinkling her nose. She walked into the kitchen, her teal and cream robe wrapped tightly against her. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and I could tell that Max was lurking around somewhere.

I picked at my toast. “Thanks.”

I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, a kaleidoscope of images shuffling through my dreams keeping me awake. Memories of Decker at the harbor, Cane on the mountain, my drive to Arizona all rotated, interchanged, and replaced each other into a twisted, jumbled mess.

And that’s exactly how I felt, sitting at the table and watching Kari pour herself a cup of coffee … like a twisted and jumbled mess. Why can’t I be more like Kari? Controlled, determined, put together.

I was none of those things; I couldn’t even keep my damn dreams straight. It was the story of my life. I would think I had something figured out and then I would see it was all a ruse or wishful thinking.

Kari sat down across the table and picked up the newspaper. “Let’s do something today,” she said, undoubtedly looking for the travel section. “I want to do something fun.”

Max sauntered into the room, a pair of wrinkled jeans hanging off of his hips. He broke stride for a half a second to scan my face, before heading to the coffee pot. “You want to do something today? Let’s go to Pinnacle Peak.”

“Yeah, let’s not,” I said, giving him a look.

Kari’s eyes shot up in stark contrast to mine. “Yes! I love Pinnacle Peak!”