Love Tap(56)

“What do you mean they’re gone? And what is that damn smell?” His eyes cutting to the cooking pan in front of me.

“Dinner. Go sit down, I’ll bring you some.” I lick my finger, the taste of lemon and salt teasing my taste buds.

He huffs disgusted. “I’m not eating that shit.”

He turns and opens the fridge. He tenses and I can watch as his face blooms two shades of red in mere seconds.

“Tatum…where are my dinners?” his voice is eerily calm, as he gives me a terrifying sideways glance.

“The doctor says those are bad for you, that you need to eat cleaner, and get out and exercise. So, this is us heading in the right direction,” I explain, pointing to the cooked fish.

“That quack doesn’t know what’s good for me. This is horse shit, I have my way of doing things and that’s that!” He slams the fridge, his shoulders rising and falling with anger.

Frustrated I stop unwrapping the fish and turn to face my dad who is throwing a damn tantrum.

“Do you like that doctor?” I cross my arms, my brows narrowing.

“No, I don’t like that doctor. What kind of question is that?” he smarts.

“Then sit your ass down at the table, and eat this dinner. Otherwise, you’ll be seeing her a lot more. They’ll know you on a first name basis you’ll be in there so much.” I point to his spot at the table. “Now sit the hell down!”

Journey’s eyes grow wide as they ping pong back and forth between Dad and me. Waiting for us to start throwing things and taking the simple argument to true Davis form.

Dad eyes me as he steps toward the table and jerks his chair out. Plopping down in his seat, I hide my surprise with a curt nod and bring the pan of salmon out to the dining table.

“What is this?” He pokes at his plate like a ten year old.

“Salmon, fresh asparagus, a wheat roll, and grape juice,” I inform looking over my own plate. I have to admit, I’m proud of myself. In college, you don’t get the opportunity to cook like this. I missed being in a real kitchen, cooking real food. I did it all the time with Mom as kid.

“Looks good, sis,” Journey praises, sitting down next to me. She’s moved back here, and is already starting to seem better mentally. I haven’t seen any guys lingering around her anyways.

“You’re going to kill me with this healthy shit.” Dad stabs at his food, and I can’t help but smile. We’re all sitting here in the spots we used to sit at when Mom made dinner. I can’t remember the last time we all sat at the table together.

My chest pings with a sense of sadness thinking about how long it’s been.

Chewing my fish, my eyes glance at the empty seat at the end of the table.

It’s different without Mom, but it feels good to be a family again.

Even if we’re broken, we’re trying, and that has to stand for something.



Camden



This morning Thomas and Debs beat me to the gym and are in their office with the blinds closed. Normally I’d think they were screwing, but I hear them talking. Their tones are serious, but I can’t make out what’s being said.

Grabbing some bungee cord, I tie it to one corner of the ring, and then secure it to the other side. Getting the ring ready to run drills with Tate.

“You screw her yet?” Chase slaps my back, climbing into the ring.

“Excuse me?” I stand upright, eyeing Chase with a deadly stare. I crack my knuckles, letting him know just how far I’m willing to go if he doesn’t choose his next words carefully.

“I’m just messing with ya. You’ve just had your head up that girl’s ass here lately I can’t help but give you a hard time,” he laughs, tugging at the bungee cords.

“Keep talking and see if you don’t get your ass kicked this morning.” I lift my chin, my face warming with anger.

“Like to see you try,” he stretches casually, his cocky demeanor irritating. I wish coach would send his ass packing, or let me spar him.

“I heard coach getting on you for getting too rough sparring yesterday.” Chase’s eyes smile, he’s clearly happy with himself.

“Yeah, well maybe if he got me a f*cking fight already I wouldn’t be so pent up with energy.” He raises a brow like it’s everyone else’s fault.

“I heard you broke Pinky’s wrist, how is that?” I stop what I’m doing and grimace at him. “And don’t get me started on the shit you pulled with Tate.” I point at him. Widening my stance in a threatening manner.

He shrugs, obviously not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for hurting Pinky. I curl my fists, as heat radiates off my body. Not only is Pinky harmless, he was my sparring buddy. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.

What if he did that to Tate?

The thought causes an act of rage to pulse in my neck.

Closing my eyes, I exhale a calming breath.

“You need to walk away,” I breathe out.

Chase laughs maliciously. Opening my eyes I find him walking backwards with a smug look on his face.

“I guess they learned not to get in the ring with a real fighter then, huh?” He tilts his head to the side, his tone indicating that he is a real fighter and I’m not.

I grit my teeth, my heart pounding against my chest with the need to hurt this motherf*cker.