Flow (The Beat and the Pulse #6) (18 page)

I
was just going
through the motions.

After Ash beat me up at Pulse, I’d sobered up some, enough to get my ass into Dr. Schwartz’s and get poked and prodded with a bazillion needles. He’d told me he’d do what he could to get the results rushed back, but I wasn’t in any state of mind to care about myself. Ma was declining rapidly.

Every time I went to see her, she looked sicker, and it broke my heart. I just couldn’t do anything for her but be there. It didn’t feel like enough. It’d never be enough.

I’d stopped fighting at The Underground and practically slept at the hospital. When Ma wasn’t sleeping herself, she seemed to be locked away in some past memory, a wistful smile on her pale lips. At least she was happy in her own mind.

I was alone in the gym in my apartment building in the city, when my phone started to ring. I was midway through a ten-kilometer run with headphones jammed in my ears listening to loud rock music when the song cut and was replaced with the default tone on my iPhone. I was one of those guys who never customized their phone with all that fancy crap. As long as it rang when it was supposed to…

Turning down the treadmill until I was at a walking pace, I answered on the hands-free that was hooked on my earphones. “Hello?”

“Hello, Hamish? It’s Dr. Schwartz.”

I hesitated at the sound of his voice. I’d talked to the guy a lot over the years, and I’d come to know the tells in his speech. Something was off.

“Did you get the results back?” I asked, wondering if I’d have to go in and talk about treatment plans for myself this time.

“Hamish, I’m afraid I have some bad news.” My stomach began to churn, and I turned the treadmill off completely. “Your mother has passed away.”

“What?” The world fell out of focus, and I almost dropped the phone and picked up my towel to hurl in it. There was no way I was getting close to a sink before I blew.

“She passed in her sleep about an hour ago,” he explained. “She wouldn’t have felt a thing. I’m sorry, Hamish.”

He was sorry? I wasn’t there…
Why wasn’t I there?

“I also have your test results,” he went on. Right then, I didn’t give a fuck what they said, but I was getting the answer whether I wanted it or not. “You’re in the clear.”

His words echoed around in my brain, and it was a moment before I realized what he was saying. I wasn’t going to die. Not from the cancer Ma’d had.

I felt
relieved,
and I hated myself for it.

I wasn’t there when she died. I wasn’t going to die.

I hung up the call without saying anything and stood on the treadmill, staring at my reflection in the mirror before me. Sweat dripped down my back in a slow trickle as the music I’d been listening to started back up again. Some angry as fuck rock song.

Tightening my grip around my phone, I ripped out the headphones and began to take shallow breaths, my chest compressing. Everything just collapsed inside of me, and the volcano blew itself apart.

With an anguished roar, I hurled the phone at the mirror, and it collided with a bang, the glass cracking but not shattering completely. The screen of my phone did, though.

She was gone, and I was alone.

* * *

T
he last place
I should’ve gone that night was The Underground.

I didn’t want to go to the hospital to pay my respects. I’d been doing that every day for the past three months. I’d said enough goodbyes to last a lifetime. The last one I’d ever say to Ma would be at her funeral on Saturday.

I walked through the crowd in a daze, ignoring anyone who came near. Voices echoed around me, some calling my name, others asking if I was okay, and it took every ounce of strength just to put one foot in front of the other.

I found myself at the bar, standing in the same spot where I’d first laid eyes on Lori.

I’d ordered whiskey to drown my sorrows after Josie had dumped me, and it’d tasted like shit. The only thing I remembered clearly about that night was the punk chick behind the bar who didn’t give a crap who I was. The punk chick who wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met before. The punk chick who went to see my mother behind my back.

Lori, who I should never have let go.

So, Ma
, I thought to myself.
You’re getting your last wish after all. I’m about to grovel on my hands and knees in the piss and filth.

A woman stood in front of me, and I recognized her as Lori’s friend Sandra. She was pretty and all, but she had nothing on the woman I’d come here for. Not one iota.

“Where’s Lori?” I asked, practically shouting over the music.

Sandra raised her eyebrows and snorted. “She’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“
Gone
.”

She glared at me, her expression full of unmasked dislike.

Turning, I stared at the crowd around me like I was a ghost. I was here, but I was so far away.

Ma was gone. Lori was gone.

The two women I cared about most in the world had left me. One by nature and one by my own hand.

I just… After so long dealing with it all on my own, I just didn’t have any fight left in me. Turning, I strode away from the bar and carved a path through The Underground and went home.

Ma would be telling me how stupid I was right about now. I could feel the burn of her disapproval, but I just couldn’t deal with it. I didn’t have any strength left to fight for Lori, so I tapped.

I was out.

K
nocking
at the front door broke me out of my stupor.

I’d been staring at the television, watching some bland breakfast TV show, trying to get myself into the right mindset for the job interview I had lined up later that morning. So far, I was failing miserably.

At least a week had passed since I’d quit my job at The Underground, and it’d been full steam ahead at maximum speed. I’d applied for every position I could find online, I’d pounded the pavement, signed up at recruitment agencies, and was doing whatever it took to get over the speed bump of unemployment.

An added side effect was it’d kept my mind off my aching heart and off all thoughts of Hamish McBride. Which was a difficult task since the guy had buried himself right in there. Somehow, I knew he’d always be a part of me, no matter how much I removed myself from what I’d done. That was the bit that killed me the most. Loving from afar and trying to forget feelings that were doing their darnedest to be felt.

Shuffling up the hall as the knocking started again, I wondered who was being so persistent. A tiny image of Hamish popped into my mind, but I shook my head. Miracles only ever happened at Christmas, and even then, they were only reserved for the movies.

I opened the front door, and instantly, my hackles rose. Storm stood on the front porch, his hands jammed into his pockets, and the first thing I thought of doing was to slam the door in his face. I gave it an almighty push, but his foot jammed between the wood, stopping it from closing.

“Lori,” he said through the crack. “I just want to talk.”

“Fuck off,” I hissed.

“Please,” he cried. “I just want to talk. That’s it. No funny business.”

Eyeing him with suspicion, I eased up the pressure on the door. “You can’t come in the house.”

He held up his hands. “Then we’ll hang on the porch. Or talk like this. Whatever you want.”

Mulling it over for a few seconds, I nodded. “On the porch. Hands where I can see them.”

Storm’s expression softened as he stepped back from the door, holding his hands up. Easing outside, I sidled down the porch and sat on the bench underneath Bel’s bedroom window. Thank God, she was at work. Otherwise, she would’ve already kicked him in the balls and given him his marching orders.

“I came here to explain a few things,” he began, sitting beside me. “About that night, about the UFC, and about everything since I came back.” He sighed and bowed his head. “I owe you a huge apology.”

I raised my eyebrows. That was the last thing I’d ever expected to hear come out of that man’s mouth.

I didn’t want an explanation about his infidelity. It was so long ago, but everything since his return was the thing that bothered me the most. The way he was kicked out of the UFC, his behavior when he returned to The Underground… I knew I had to ask him so I could finally close that chapter of my life.

“What really happened with that girl?”

He sighed and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “It was a fabrication.”

I snorted.

“I’m not shitting you, Lori,” he said. “I know I can be a dick, but I’d never raise my hand to a woman.”

“Then why did they think it was you?”

“In cases like that, they always side with the woman, and someone in my position… I had money, and she saw an opportunity. I wasn’t the first guy she’d tried it on with, but I was the first idiot in the UFC.”

I didn’t understand. “So you’re saying she tricked the courts into ordering you to pay her a settlement?”

“She was a con artist if you ask me,” he said. “The UFC couldn’t do shit. My lawyer couldn’t do shit. The evidence was stacked against me, so I had no other choice but to take the fall. She was a pro.” He sighed and stared out across the street. “So that’s the story.”

“Wow,” I said, leaning back against the house.

“I’ll fucking say. The only place I had left to go was The Underground. I was a dick because I didn’t want anyone to find out the real reason I was back. I thought I could leave that part of me behind and pick up where I left off. Fuck, was I wrong.”

I didn’t have any reason to believe him, but I’d also never seen Storm speak so frankly about anything. It was freaking me the hell out, actually. Maybe the guy had changed, but it didn’t mean I’d crawl back into his bed. I couldn’t bring myself to think about another man like that, not after Hamish.

“I’m sorry,” Storm said, glancing at me. “For everything I did to you. I was stupid and arrogant, and I hurt the one person I should’ve cherished the most.” He cast his gaze away and shuffled from foot to foot. “I just wanted you to know that.”

“That means a lot,” I murmured. “But we can never go back, you know that, right?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know. I’ll leave you alone after this. I just needed to make sure we were square.”

“I guess we’re as square as we’ll ever be.”

“So you and Goblin?” he went on. “What happened there?”

I felt tears begin to well, and my hands started to tremble, so I shoved them under my thighs. “No good,” I managed to get out.

“I’m the biggest dick out there,” Storm began, “but I’m smart enough to know neither of you are trying to fix whatever it was that broke you up. I don’t know if it’s pride or what…” He shrugged. “Someone’s gotta fight.”

“And you think that person is me?”

“I suppose so. I’m pretty sure the guy has a lot to deal with right now. Also, I can recognize a stubborn asshole when I see one.” He laughed. “Takes one to know one, huh?”

“What do you mean he’s got a lot to deal with?” I thought Hamish hadn’t told anyone about his mother, so how was Storm assuming he had shit to deal with?

“I don’t know how word got out, but apparently, his mother died the other day.”

My expression fell, and my hand flew to my mouth. “You’re kidding me?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know anything about grand gestures, but I suppose now would be the time to offer condolences or support or whatever. To let him know you’re still there.”

I could hear Storm’s voice, but I wasn’t listening.
Oh, Hamish…
I did want to be there, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome. I wanted to get in my car, drive over to his place, and make him listen. I wanted to comfort him and hold his hand and just…and just be there. It didn’t have anything to do with love or sex, it was just… I didn’t know.

Glancing at Storm’s watch, I saw the time and began gathering my thoughts.

“Listen, I’ve gotta go,” I said.

“Hot date?” he asked with a wink.

I laughed and shook my head. “Nope. Job interview.”

“Yeah? You don’t say. Another bar gig?”

“Office monkey,” I replied. “I figured I’d need a little less ‘effective communication’ in a place like that.”

“Okay, well, good luck.”

“Thanks.”

I stood and watched him walk the five steps off the porch to the front gate. Taking in his stature and feeling his presence for the first time, I realized something was different about him. Something good.

“Good luck, Lori,” he said, closing the gate behind him. “With everything.”

* * *

A
fter hearing
about Hamish’s mum, I couldn’t stop myself from looking up the details of her funeral.

Sitting in my car while I waited for my interview to roll around, I searched on my phone and found the information had been printed in the newspaper.

She was being buried on Saturday.
This
Saturday.

Lauren Rose McBride was fifty-eight years old when she passed away peacefully in her sleep from cancer.
Fifty-eight
. Survived by her only son, Hamish, thirty-two years old.

Wiping a tear from my eye, I pulled the rearview mirror around and checked my mascara. I’d smeared a little, so I took out a tissue from my bag and dabbed the black smudge.

Taking one last deep breath, I open the car door and slid out onto the footpath. Feeding money into the parking meter, I gave myself an internal pep talk. I needed this job, and I’d be good at it. I’d go in there and wow them despite how absolutely crap I felt.

Opening the front door to Pulse Fitness, I walked into the vast warehouse, trying to put my best game face on. The moment I emerged into the gym itself, my gaze was pulled upward to the ceiling. Giant skylights were set into the building, letting in all the natural light, brightening up the whole space tenfold.

Mats and a padded octagon were set up at the back, and next to that, was a row of punching bags. Then a bank of cardio equipment like bikes, treadmills, and cross trainers filled the center of the space. To the right were rooms that housed group fitness classes, one of which had what looked like a yoga class in full swing and a dedicated weight room.

The place was impressive, and I’d only seen part of it.

“Lori?”

At the sound of my name rolling off a very male tongue, I turned to find Ash Fuller standing beside me. He was a lot taller than I remembered and much more handsome, but I’d never seen him up close before, let alone held a conversation with the guy.

He wore a tight black T-shirt that had the word
Trainer
over his left pec. Pair that with his overabundance of muscles and tattoos and he looked more like a bouncer at a nightclub than a guy who owned a gym.

“Yes,” I said, holding out my hand.

“You’re punctual. I like it.” He smiled and shook my hand. “Ash Fuller.”

I wanted to say that I knew who he was, but I didn’t want to give away the fact that I used to work at The Underground. I knew he’d fought there, but I’d wanted to try to keep things aboveboard.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, doing my best to sound confident.

“Come upstairs to the office, and we’ll have a chat.” When he saw me swallow nervously, he added, “It’s nothing major, don’t worry. I hate job interviews, too. I’m pretty sure everyone feels the same.”

Relaxing, I smiled and nodded.

Ash turned and gestured for me to follow his lead, and he took me up a set of stairs to the second level. Opening a door to the left, he waved for me to go first, and I stepped around him and into the office.

It was small, but the walls were painted in a bright, crisp white and had lots of posters and plants to brighten it up. The wall that overlooked the gym had a long window set into it, so if I stood up at the desk, I’d be able to see the whole floor below. There was also a large window looking out on the rooftops of the building next door and the sky above. All in all, it was pretty nice, and I could picture myself working here already.

“Okay,” Ash said, gesturing for me to sit at the desk. “The job is mainly office stuff. Emails, invoices, phone calls, processing memberships. Sometimes, we might send you out to pick up stuff but not often.”

Sitting on the chair, I listened intently as he rattled off the bullet points about the job and the daily goings-on at Pulse Fitness.

“Have you worked a computer before?” he asked. “Taken phone calls?”

“I don’t have any office experience per se…” I began awkwardly. “I do have a lot of years under my belt dealing with difficult customers and the challenging situations that go with them. And these days, everyone knows how to work a computer. Half an hour and a rundown of how things run and I’m sure I’ll be able to pick it up.”

Ash narrowed his eyes slightly, and I began to squirm. Shit, I’d said the wrong thing already. I really wanted this job. I never thought I’d be the kind of person who’d work behind a desk, but one look at this place and I knew it was the place for me. The problem was trying to explain that to my potential boss.

Ash raised his big hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, I know you used to work the bar at The Underground. Three years, right?”

“How…” I shuffled nervously.

“We have a couple of regulars who fight over there,” he explained. “And I remember you from the old days.”

“You remember me?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. Ash Fuller remembered me from two years ago, but Hamish hadn’t even deigned to look.
Some people
.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” he went on with a chuckle. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep it a secret. I’m pretty open about my involvement in the place. How do you think I had the cash to open Pulse? I was a deadbeat before I got my shit together.”

I sighed in relief. “I feel a lot better about it now.”

“You’re talking to the president of the ‘UA’ movement.”

I frowned. “The UA?”

“
Underground Anonymous
.” He gave me a wink.

I nodded, jamming my hands underneath my thighs to stop them from shaking. I wanted this job so much…

“Listen, I know you and Hamish had a thing…” Ash glanced through the window at the gym below. “He comes in here to train sometimes. Once or twice a week.”

I knew he was asking if it was going to be a problem, and I wondered how good their friendship was. Hamish wasn’t exactly the master of telling people about shit.

“I’d be in the office most of the time,” I said, feeling a slight pang of longing at the mention of his name. “I’m sure contact would be minimal and mostly accidental. He made himself clear where he stands.” Which was anywhere I wasn’t. “I said my piece, and that’s it, I suppose.”