Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(80)
I wipe a wayward tear from my cheek. “I didn’t realize how much I loved him until I lost him.”
Her smile quivers. “He was a boy, huh?”
“Maybe.” Or maybe the loss I’m feeling is for my best friend. Because not having him here when I need him most amplifies the hole in my heart he left behind.
“It’ll be okay, Axelle. I promise. You’ll bounce back and finish college, get married, and have as many babies as you want.”
“How’s our patient?” Blake stands in the doorway, keeping his distance while lending support.
Mom turns toward him. “Better. Did you get Jack back to sleep?”
He nods. “Out like a light.”
“What did you tell Ryder?” The last thing I want to do is explain that I miscarried, seeing as he never even knew I was pregnant.
“Told him you got sick to your stomach but that you’re feeling better and resting.”
“Thank you.”
“You girls have everything you need in here? Want me to bring you some water?”
Mom looks down at me. “That’d be great.”
“You don’t have to stay with me all night, Mom.”
“I know, but I want to.” She climbs under the covers and pulls me to her chest. “You’ll always be my baby, Axelle, and right now I just want to hold you.”
I snuggle in close, absorbing the warmth of her touch.
Blake places two glasses of water on the side table and then kisses me on the forehead and Mom on the lips. “I’ll be right across the hall if you need me.”
“We know.” My mom holds me closer.
“Blake?”
“Yeah, kiddo.”
“Please, don’t tell him, okay?”
He doesn’t need me to say his name to know who I’m talking about. “Think he’ll figure it out on his own when nine months come and go. You sure you don’t think he should know?”
I shake my head. “You know him; he’ll worry. He might try to come home, and”—my heart shatters—“I don’t want to be his reason for coming home.”
Blake studies the floor for a few beats then nods. “Alright, I won’t tell him, but I’m going to be honest here and say I think he needs to know. You’re the most important person in his life, Axelle. When he finds out we all kept this from him, I don’t think he’s going to be happy about it.”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, the only people who know about the pregnancy are Clifford, who didn’t believe me anyway, Killian, and the three of us. I’d like to move forward, pretending these last two months were a dream, and go on with my life.”
“It’s your call, sweetheart,” my mom murmurs.
“My lips are sealed, kiddo. Now you two get some sleep. Love you.”
“Love you too,” we say in unison.
And shortly afterward I fall sound asleep in my mom’s arms.
Twenty-seven
Two months later…
Killian
There’s got to be one hundred fifty people in the small Irish pub we’ve taken over for the night. Having met the maximum occupancy hours ago, the manager closed the doors to the public, but a crowd gathers in the street, celebrating along with us.
My second win.
Another knockout.
This one in fifty-eight seconds.
Liam pushes his way through the crowd around me and shoves a pint into my hand, spilling dark beer over my knuckles, not that I care. “Drink up, mate!” He yells to be heard over the voices of hammered fans and music. “We’re back at it on Monday!”
“I’m ready now!” I tilt the glass to my lips, losing my balance a little but being held up beautifully between two women who’ve been acting like gutter bumpers to my drunk ass all night.
“You killed it tonight!” Caleb grins, pride and respect shining in his eyes. “Fizzouli didn’t know what hit him.”
“They don’t call me Quick Kill for nothing!” I hold my arms out and knock one of the girls by accident. “Oh shit.” I turn to her and cup her face awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”
A trill of laughter falls from her lips, and she leans in close. “You didn’t; you swatted my boob.”
My eyes fall heavily to her chest. “I’m so sorry.”
She cups her breast. “She forgives you.”
“No accent.” I pull my focus from her chest. “You’re American.”
“Yes.” Her expression softens. “I’m from Denver, but I go to school at Kings.”
“Nice.” I turn away from her probing stare; that ache in my chest that comes when I’m around women is dulled from beer, but undeniably there.
“I saw your fight!” Her breath skates along my ear. “You’re really good!”
I peer down at her and grin. “I know.”
Another string of giggles falls from her lips. She’s a pretty girl, really pretty. “Oh! Here!” She pulls out her phone and holds it up. “Let’s take a selfie.”
“I’ll take it.” Caleb grabs her phone and stands back a little. “Kill, pick her up.”