Chapter 3

Police sirens startle me awake. Peeling my eyes open, red and blue lights flash along the walls of Chloe's room.

"What is that?" I groan pulling myself from the floor. Growing up we hardly ever saw police in this area. Has it gone downhill over the years?

Chloe groans pulling her pillow over her face. Getting up I step on her bed to look out the window.

Spreading the blinds apart, I spot the cop car stopping in front my old house and what looks like my sister and dad outside yelling at each other. Adrenaline wakes me like a cold glass of water to the face.

"Shit!"

Jumping off Chloe's bed I nearly trip on the air mattress rushing out of the house.

"What is it?" Chloe hollers, but I don't stop.

Exiting her house, the screen door slams as I run four houses up.

"No, you don't understand daddy." Journey pleads, her hands pressed up against my father's chest.

"I understand alright and he's going to jail!" My father points over Journey's shoulder. Following his finger I spot a guy wearing a red baseball cap backwards, a smug expression on his face while he grabs at his crotch crudely.

The cop gets out of car, and tugs at his utility belt.

"Daddy, it's not his fault I shouldn't have..." Journey stops short and lowers her head. The street light shines on her face and I notice her nose is bleeding.

Not caring that either of them know I'm here, I stomp forward.

"What the hell happened?" My tone not hiding the panic in my voice. Dad and Journey's eyes both snap to me.

"Tatum?" Dad questions, squinting his eyes. "When did you get in? Where-" He stops mid-question looking behind me. Turning to see what he's looking at, Chloe and Fiona are standing in the street. Fiona's arms are crossed, and Chloe is biting on her nails anxiously.

"I'll explain later. What happened here?" I gesture toward Journey.

Dad nods, and focus's his gaze back on Journey.

"I'm not entirely sure, I'm just getting pieces of the story. He dropped her off at home, and I came out to tell her how late it was and I spotted her face. A neighbor must have called the cops." Dad looks around the neighborhood curiously.

"Hello there, I'm officer Gregor, I got a noise complaint."

"That asshole hit my daughter. Take him in!" Dad points toward the guy standing at the end of the driveway.

"NO!" Journey nearly screams. "Scotty didn't do anything. I'm trying to tell you that!"

"So, he didn't hit you?" Officer Gregor raises skeptical eyebrow.

Journey bites at her lip, looking at Scotty. "No."

She's lying. When she lies, her head falls, her eyes looking anywhere but directly at you, and she bites her bottom lip.

"So what happened to your face then?" The officer interrogates.

"I just, I got a bloody nose. I get them a lot." She shrugs, looking down.

"No you don't," I sneer. Her head snaps up, and she glares at me.

The officer rolls his neck. "Look, do you want to press charges or not kid?"

"No!" Journey steps in.

"Yes!" Dad interjects.

"Sir, I'm afraid the gentlemen hasn't done anything to you for you to press charges."

My dad snarls in response. "So you're not going to do anything?"

"I didn't say that. I'm going to escort him off the property, and if you have any more problems give us a call." The officer looks at Journey with a disgusted look and walks over to Scotty.

"You lied." I growl.

Journey tosses her long wavy hair over her shoulder, she looks thinner than usual. "I love him, Tate."

"Love?" I can't help but snarl at the word. "He obviously feels the same. How long have you been together? What do you even know about him?" I ramble.

"We have been together a month, and I know a lot about him thank you very much," she snaps.

I shake my head. Chloe was right, Journey is a mess. Blood drops from her inflamed nose, staining her dress.

"Yeah, it looks like love." My tone drips with sarcasm.

Glancing back at the officer and Scotty, they are walking different ways. The officer back to his cruiser, and Scotty is headed toward a newer model Mustang.

"When did you get in?" Dad asks. He has that face, the one with disapproval. It reminds me of someone being constipated.

"Um, yesterday."

"Yesterday?!"

"It's late, I'll explain tomorrow."

Dad's brows fall inward. "Everything okay?"

The Mustang drives away, and the cop follows. Keeping my eyes on the tail lights I reply, "Yeah, everything is fine. Just left school early."

He sighs, clearly frustrated with me.

"What does that mean?"

Lowering my head, my shoulders tense. I am stressed to the max and would fall to my knees in praise if I could unleash the anger running through my veins right now. I can't think when I'm this pent up. I just need to get this over with and tell him.

"I dropped out of school. I'm back home. For good." I don't lie, I just tell him half the truth.

"WHAT!?" His voice echoes through the neighborhood. I'm sure the cop is going to be turning around for a round two at the Davis house hold tonight.

Bringing my stare to dad's I square my shoulders, and lift my chin. Coming here is what I want. One hundred percent. I am not backing down. Not this time.

"I'm sorry dad, but school is not for me. You told me to try it out, and I did. Truth be told, I gave up trying long ago, I just didn't want to hurt you so I stayed there and was miserable. I gave up everything! Things I can never get back!" My heart aches as I look at the house next to my dads. You know when some people say you don't know what you had till you had it, well that happened to me. I had an amazing guy who was my best friend and I gave it up. I had a road paved for fighting, and I left it behind. Mourning, and grief make an eighteen year old girl more vulnerable than you might think. I was confused, and I didn't know what to do. So I made a choice I thought was right and tried to move forward.

Rolling his lips onto each other, Dad's nose scrunches in anger. The blood rushing to his face makes the scars of his previous life shine with honor. A lot of people might be afraid of my dad's temper, but not me. I like it when he's mad, it reminds me of the dad I used to have.

"You're making a mistake," he seethes.

"Maybe." I shrug. "But at least it'll be my decision and my mistake to make."

"Your mother would be so disappointed." He jabs, and my nose flares as my chest constricts with sadness.

"That's a low blow for someone who doesn't fucking box anymore." His eyes go as wide as saucers. I'm not supposed to bring up his boxing career. He gave up everything too after we found out mom was sick. Our lives fell apart after that.

"Just stop!" Journey holds both her hands out, as if she's trying to split us up. Her tie died dress swaying at her feet.

Journey sniffs, running her hand under her bloody nose.

"I can't believe you let him hit you." I flex my fingers. If that cop hadn't been there, I would have decked that asshole.

"I don't hit people Tate, I love them."

I palm my face.

"Oh my God you're a hippie. When did this happen?" I groan in disbelief.

"At least she listens to me." Dad snides, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Right, because eating flowers, shitting rainbows, and getting smacked in the face by your boyfriend is ideal over me dropping out of school to fight professionally."

They both look at me stunned.

"You're what!" My dad rubs at his chin, his face as white as cotton. Shit, I didn't mean to let that last one slip.

"Don't even!" I point at him, warning him he's edging on my last nerve.

"I forbid it!" Dad looks at me with a blister red face.

"Funny thing, I don't care what you want anymore. You don't want to fight that is your decision, and your life. But, I'm living mine now."

"I can't believe you're going to pick the fighter's life when you have so much more going for you." Dad shakes his head, not daring to look me in the eye.

"I'm not picking the fighter's life, the fighter's life chose me!" I point to myself, hollering so loud I can feel my face flush with anger. He used to be a boxer, a damn good one at that. It's in my blood to fight, and even I can't help that.

"You need to relax." Journey's bushy brows peak. "Smoke some weed or something guys, geeze." Dad tilts his head to the side, shifting on his feet. "You smoke pot, Journey?" His question doesn't come out like he's angry anymore. No, it comes out as if he's about to ask her for a joint. What the hell have I walked myself into?

Hallowing my cheeks I blow out an irritated breath and turn on my heels to head back toward Fiona and Chloe.

"You know what, I'm going back to bed. I don't have the energy to deal with this right now."

"Nice to know your best friend will let you sleep on her couch when you're homeless!" Dad sneers from behind me.

Lifting my hand, I flip him off and keep walking.

"Glad to be home too dad!"

Camden Steel

A wave of thunder slams in my head, echoing into a storm of pain. Groaning I rub the heel of my palm into my eyes.

"UP!"

The blinds are pulled open and the damn sun from hell burns into my skin. Rolling over, I shove my head into my pillow.

"What the fuck Kaley?" Kaley is my assistant/publicist, and she's a pain in my ass. One that won't seem to go away. Everyone from my team has pretty much up and left when I went into hiding, except her. She's either really stupid, or very loyal.

"Come on, today is the day we are going to jump back!"

"I'm going to stop you right there." I hold my hand up interrupting her. Swinging my legs over the bed, I peel my left eyelid open and find her standing in front of the window with a hand on her hip, the other hand carrying a folder. "Today is the day for nothing. How many times do we have to do this before you get that?" She bites her bottom lip, and adjusts her thick black framed glasses. Shaking my head I stand, and stretch. My muscle are stiff and object to the strain. I grab my gray sweats off the floor and shuffle them up my legs, tying the strings snugly. Looking up I find Kaley eyeing me. I smirk, catching her red handed.

She wants the D.

"Okay well..." she mumbles, looking anywhere but at me. Her dark hair falling into her face.

Striding up to her, I flick a strand of hair falling in her face.

"Say the word sweetheart, I'm into the whole fucking my assistant so hard her glasses fog."

Her cheeks flush, as she swats my hand away.

"Nice try Mr. Steele. I'm not interested." Her chest rises as if she's holding her breath. She's lying.

"You sure about that?" Tilting my head to the side I can't help but smirk. She adjusts her glasses and eyes the bed behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I find the girl I took to bed last night passed out. Her makeup is all over the pillow and her hair is frightful from all the hair shit she has in it.

"I'm not into sloppy seconds Mr. Steel."

"Seconds can be just as satisfying as firsts Kaley."

Swallowing hard, she fidgets with her hands.

"I need coffee." Rubbing the back of my neck I leave the room heading to the kitchen. Heels click along the cemented floor, the smell of Kaley's perfume making my head hurt more than it already is. It's not from drinking either. More like the lack of. I'm a recovering alcoholic. At least that's what the therapist, I'm ordered by the court to see weekly says. Setting up the keruig I watch it stream hot water into the cracked ceramic cup.

"When are you going to unpack?" Kaley asks, stepping over boxes. Twisting my lips into thought, I look around the room. It's a shit apartment compared to where I was staying. It's much smaller, and older. I think it was an old fire house or something.

"What's the point?" I won't be able to afford rent here much longer. Fortunately for me, the people who were renting my parent's house finally vacated, so I can live there if I need to. Only reason I haven't yet, is because of ghosts. Every time I step foot in that house, I can hear Tatum's laugh haunt me.

"I don't know, maybe it'll help get that stick out of your ass if you sink your feet in somewhere." I raise a brow at her flippant tone.

"So, the sports channel called and was wanting to set up a –"

"No." I cut her off. We do this every day. She tries to set me up with multiple promotional opportunities, and I always tell her no. Fighting in front of a camera... I'm over it. I'm done. My last stint made sure of that.

"Okay. The MFC wants to set up a fight with-"

"No."

"Well, news caster Tom Brenny wants an interview?"

"Nope." I emphasis the p as I flip on the TV.

She sighs, lowering her clipboard.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" She groans in frustration.

"Why are you still here? I haven't paid you in three months, and you don't want to fuck." I shrug, grabbing my fresh cup of coffee. It's not because she's not good at what she does, why I haven't paid her. I can't afford her anymore.

Her eyes fall as she adjusts her board.

"Because I refuse to believe you're done. You're Camden Steel, you don't just quit."

Thanks Jen, this is the week everyone is preparing for Jake The Snake Adams to return to Chicago today after his big win in the ring this weekend in Arizona." My eyes focus on the TV as the morning sports channel comes on.

"If you remember Jake was born and raised here, and is one of two MMA fighters that flourished from this very city. Camden Steel is also from here, but as you may remember Camden's fighting career came to halt after his last stunt in Las Vegas," Jen the news anchor continues and I cringe at my name.

They screen switches from the two of them to the footage of me racing down the freeway in a red Spyder with dozens of law enforcement right behind me, my hand reaches out of the window and flips off the helicopter that was hovering above. They love to show that one over and over. I wish everyone would just fucking forget it, and me.

"After the car chase that led him across Las Vegas, he has seemed to finally keep himself out of trouble, and the public's eye. We tried to reach out to Camden and his team for an interview to explain his actions, and were told no comment in return," News Anchor Sharon informs everyone.

"Such a shame. Wherever he is, I hope he's getting the help he needs," News anchor Jen shakes her head.

"I agree. Hopefully the fame won't get to Jake Adams."

Turning the TV off I turn and slam the mug on the counter. Cracking it more. The heat on my face becoming unbearable. I need to get out of here.

"You gotta admit, that was some exit." Kaley grabs my cup and takes a sip. My brows raise in surprise. "I'm not going anywhere, I know that you will be back in that ring and I'm going to be here when you do." She rests her elbows on the counter.

"Why?"

"It's not every day a newbie like me lands a celebrity like yourself. Sure they may have handed me over to you after you started your downward spiral, but I will be here when you return to the top." I squint my eyes at her.

"You're wasting your time. I'm not going back."

"I don't believe that. Now, tell me what I can do."

I blow out an irritated breath. I need to hit the gym, my body feels wound up like a damn jack in the box.

"You want to help?" I grab my gym bag from the floor. "Get-"

"You can't remember her name can you?" Kaley asks smugly. This isn't the first time I've asked her to get my one night stands out afterwards. I don't like to deal with the 'who calls who' and shit afterwards. I feel bad when they want more and I don't.

"Of course I remember her name," I scoff. I don't. After knowing each other's names, comes feelings.

"Sure you do. I got it, like usual." Kaley sighs so heavily, the hair in her face blows to the side.

I can't help but smile in return.

She doesn't want to go anywhere, that's fine by me. She can take care of shit I don't want to in the meantime.