Fighting Love: The Complete Series Page 6

  Chapter Twelve

  Marco

  I’m sitting on the couch getting high with Janell when there’s a knock on my door. The last person who knocked on my door in the middle of the day was Bella. I know it can’t be Mathias because he’s once again out of town on business. Janell gets up to answer the door and I put the coke inside the box. I don’t need people walking in on my business—like Bella did that day.

  The door opens and I hear voices but I can’t make out who they are. Then my mom and dad walk in with Janell trailing behind them.

  “I’ve been calling you for two weeks,” my dad says, and by the sound of his tone he’s more concerned than mad.

  “I’ve been busy.” I stand to get some distance, but my dad walks toward me, grabbing my chin in his hand.

  “I’m going to ask you this once. Are you high?” Averting my gaze away from his, I shrug and he grips my chin harder. This time I jerk my face out of his clutch.

  “It’s not your business,” I answer, continuing not to make eye contact.

  “Sweetie,” my mom says only she isn’t talking to me. She’s talking to Janell who is standing near the wall looking uncomfortable as hell. “Why don’t I take you home so my husband and son can talk.”

  Janell nods in agreement, and after grabbing her purse, they’re out the door.

  “You’re going to rehab,” my dad states as soon as the door closes. My eyes shoot up to his. My first thought is if I go to rehab, I’m going to be in pain.

  “Fuck no, I’m not,” I spit out looking him in the eye, not giving a fuck anymore. There’s no damn way I’m going somewhere that requires me to be in pain.

  “Marco, Son. Please.” He approaches me, but I back up not wanting his comfort. “Your mom and I have been worried about you. When Bella…” He cuts himself off, but it’s too late. He tries to recover by saying, “What I mean is, you haven’t called or answered any of our calls in weeks,” but it’s too late.

  “Bella called you?” I’m fuming. She has her own shit to deal with, and instead of worrying about herself, she called my damn dad.

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re here and we’re going to get you help.” He moves closer again, his hands up like he’s dealing with a wild animal. The look on his face is pained, and even as high as I am, I hate that I’m the one putting it there, but I don’t care enough to be in pain for the rest of my life. I need the drugs. They numb me. They numb my mind and my body.

  “Marco, we love you. We need you to get help. Please. Your family. Your friends. Bella. Tristan. Your sisters. We’re all here for you.” I contemplate what he’s saying for a moment. When I watched Bella walk out the door, slamming it shut behind her, I considered chasing after her. But I knew she was better off without me in her life. She needs someone like Tristan, and she sure as fuck doesn’t need me. The truth is, none of these people need me.

  And then it hits me, I have officially become my mother’s son. And no, I’m not referring to the woman who raised me for the last thirteen years. I’m talking about my biological mother, the one who needed drugs for most of my life. The woman I swore I would never become.

  You always hear the saying, nature over nurture. Guess they were right, because here I am, high as fuck needing the drugs. Guess I’m more like my mom than I wanted to admit.

  “I want you to get out,” I say.

  Caleb looks at me with wide eyes. “Marco, don’t do this.”

  “Get out!” I boom. I get up in his face, which is a mistake. We might be built similar, but Caleb isn’t high or injured like I am.

  “You need help, Son,” he begs.

  “I’m not your goddamned son! Now get out!” I stalk toward the door and open it for him, but he refuses to leave. So, without saying another word, I walk out the door, slamming it closed behind me. As soon as I’m down the stairs I hit the beach and call Janell’s brother, Ivan. He answers on the second ring.

  “What’s up?”

  “I need you to pick me up. Down at Gazpacho’s.” It’s a bit of a walk from my place, but I need to get away from Caleb. He doesn’t get it. None of them do. I always knew I was tainted, that blood is thicker than water. But now, it’s confirmed. I never stood a fucking chance against biology.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bella

  A Few Months Later

  “Bella, if we don’t get going soon, we’re going to be late.”

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry! I freaking sneezed too hard and peed my pants. I had to jump back in the shower and change my clothes.” I run around my room frantically, making sure I have everything. Cell phone. Pregnancy book. Workout bag for afterward.

  We get to the appointment right on time and the nurse brings us back immediately. After doing my monthly weigh-in and bloodwork, she takes me back to a different room.

  “Go ahead and take your clothes off from the waist down and use this to cover you.” She hands me a paper-looking blanket “The doctor will be in to see you shortly.”

  After changing and sitting on the medical table, we wait. Not even two minutes later there’s a knock on the door and the doctor walks in.

  “Good morning, Bella. How are you feeling today?” Dr. Ruben asks.

  “I’m doing good.” I look down at my protruding belly and rub it. I’m now twenty weeks pregnant which means if all goes well we should be able to find out the sex of the baby. It won’t be the first ultrasound I’ve had but at least this one will be a more positive occasion. It’s been a rocky few months, but it feels like lately life has been going a bit smoother.

  “And I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Dr. Ruben.” My obstetrician puts his hand out to shake Tristan’s.

  “This is Tristan. He’s”—I clear my throat—“the father of the baby.”

  “Nice to meet you. And I see you are now twenty weeks. Are you ready to see your baby?”

  “Yes, I am.” I hold my breath as Dr. Ruben pulls my cover down and squirts the warmed-up gel onto my belly. When he takes the wand and rubs the gel in, spreading it over my belly, my heartrate picks up like it does every time— praying there will be a heartbeat. When I finally hear the beautiful sound of whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, I feel like I can breathe again.

  “The baby’s heartbeat is running at one hundred and fifty beats per minute right now. Good, strong heartbeat.” Good. Strong. Heartbeat. I will never tire of hearing those words. Especially, after experiencing the most frightening day of my life a few months ago when I thought I might never get to hear my baby’s heartbeat.

  “Where the fuck is she?” I’m standing behind the front door where Marco can’t see me but my car is in the parking lot so he knows I’m here.

  “Marco… you need to calm down, man.” Tristan tries to stop Marco from entering our apartment, but it’s pointless. Marco is bigger and stronger. He slams his fist against the door and stalks into the apartment looking for me. When his eyes lock with mine, his lip curls with disgust.

  “You fucking bitch! What the fuck were you thinking, calling my dad and telling him I’m a fucking druggy? What fucking business is it of yours!”

  I back up a little as he comes closer, and luckily Tristan steps in front of me. “Marco!” Tristan booms. “You do have a fucking drug problem. Bella was just trying to help. We’re your friends.”

  Marco glares at Tristan and says, “She’s not my friend. She’s nothing to me.” Then he locks eyes with me. “You have enough problems of your own to be worrying about me. Focus on your fucking self.”

  “Marco, leave,” I say quietly, hoping he won’t say what I think he is about to say.

  “Why? Afraid pretty boy here will learn the truth? Or wait… did you end up doing what I suggested after all?” His gaze drops to my stomach.

  “Bella, what’s he talking about?” Tristan turns toward me.

  Marco chuckles as he smiles saccharinely. “Oh, this is great! You had time to call Caleb and stir up shit, but you forgot to mention to your best
friend here that you’re knocked up.” Caleb had warned me he accidentally let my name slip out when he tried to get Marco help. He apologized and told me Marco left. He’s texted me a few times since then letting me know nobody has heard from Marco. I figured he would be mad I told his dad about his drug problem, but I didn’t think he would show up here to confront me.

  Tristan whips his head around at me in shock, his eyes going wide. I shake my head softly, silently begging him not to get into this right now. He gives me a look asking if it’s true and I close my eyes, giving him a small nod. When I open my eyes back up he gives me a sympathetic smile.

  “So, which is it Bella? Did you have an abortion like I suggested, or is your fighting career over before it even started? And while I’m thinking about it, who the fuck is your baby’s daddy? Because if the look Tristan just made tells me anything, he’s not the one who knocked you up… and I sure as fuck didn’t knock you up.”

  “What do you even care?” Tristan asks, confused. Marco just chuckles and shakes his head.

  “So, Bella… tell us. I mean you got in my business, so it’s only fair I know yours.”

  “I’m having the baby,” I admit, and Tristan does a good job of keeping his composure.

  “And who’s the lucky guy? Who’s the guy that’s fucked for life?”

  Hot tears build and I will them away.

  As I am about to tell him it’s none of his business, Tristan says, “I am. So, worry about yourself.”

  “I call bullshit.”

  “You can call whatever the fuck you want. Now get the fuck out. The baby Bella’s carrying is mine.”

  “Oh my God!” a feminine voice screeches. “What did you just say?” Gina steps farther into the room. Of course, at this moment is when she decides to come out of Tristan’s room to join the fun.

  “Did you just say you’re the father of her baby?” Gina shoots daggers my way.

  “And the plot thickens.” Marco laughs. “I’m out of here.”

  He reaches the door and glares at me one last time. “You’re fucking dead to me.” He walks out the door and slams it behind him, causing the picture frame next to the door to fall to the floor, the glass pieces smashing all over the ground.

  “Gina, can you go wait in my room for a minute? I’ll be right there,” Tristan says to Gina.

  “No! I want to know what the hell is going on!”

  “And I’ll explain it to you in a minute. You can either go wait in my room or leave.”

  “Fine,” she huffs, glaring at me and then walking away.

  Once we hear the door slam, Tristan says to me, “Is it true?”

  “Yes, I’m about eight weeks pregnant.”

  “Why does Marco know and I don’t?”

  I give him the half-truth. “When I went to his house to see if I could get him help, I told him.”

  “Who’s the dad?”

  I’ve never lied to Tristan… until this moment, and I feel sick as I do. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want the baby.”

  “He knows you’re pregnant?”

  “Yes, and he made it clear he doesn’t want him or her.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet. I know I’m going to have the baby, but I’m considering giving it up for adoption.”

  “Shit! Okay, let me go talk to Gina, and then we’ll figure this out, okay?” Tristan wraps his arms around me, giving me a hug I didn’t realize I needed so badly.

  He walks back to his room, and I hear the door close. Before going to lie down, I stop at the bathroom to go pee. After I’m done, I wipe myself, and just before I drop the toilet paper into the water, I spot bright red blood. Grabbing more, I wipe again and see more blood.

  “Tristan,” I call out. “Tristan!” I pull up my pants, flush the toilet, and run out of the bathroom. He’s already in the hallway.

  “Did you call me?”

  “I’m bleeding. I need to go to the hospital.”

  “Okay, let’s go.” He practically pushes Gina out the door, and although she tries to argue, Tristan snaps at her, saying he’ll talk to her later.

  The ride to the hospital is a blur. We get checked in and I’m given a room and a gown to change into. I answer what feels like a million questions and then blood is taken.

  A few minutes later, an ultrasound tech picks me up and rolls my bed to another room, but before we leave, Tristan promises he’ll be waiting for me in the room.

  The tech tries to do an external ultrasound first, but she can’t find a heartbeat.

  “Don’t worry,” she says. “You probably aren’t far enough along yet.”

  Then, using a probe, she tries again. I hold my breath, praying to hear the heartbeat. She clicks a couple buttons and I feel like I’m going to pass out.

  “Okay, here we go.” She turns a knob and I hear it—my baby’s heartbeat—and it’s the most amazing sound I’ve ever heard. “See that little blip?” She points at the screen and I see a small dot with something blinking in the center.

  “Oh my god! Is that her heartbeat?”

  “It sure is. I will print you out a picture.” She clicks a couple more knobs then she grabs something from under her. “Here you go.” She hands me a black and phot grainy photo. “Your baby’s first photo. According to my measurements, you’re eight weeks along. Congratulations. Everything looks good from my end, but the OBGYN on call will come in and double check everything since you had bleeding.”

  A few minutes later the doctor comes in and checks out the ultrasound images then she does a pelvic exam. “Your uterus and placenta all look perfect. The baby’s heartbeat is strong and you’re measuring correct according to the first day of your last period. Minor bleeding in the first trimester is common, so I don’t want you to be concerned. If you feel any cramping or the bleeding worsens, come back in. Otherwise, make an appointment for your checkup with your preferred obstetrician.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  The nurse comes in and wheels me back to the room where Tristan is waiting for me. “Everything okay?”

  I hand him the picture of the most perfect little blob. “She’s perfect.”

  “It’s a girl?” He looks at me shocked.

  “I don’t know. I’m only eight weeks along, but I didn’t want to call it an ‘it’ and she was the sex that came to mind.” Giving the baby a gender makes this whole situation feel even more real. I have a baby growing inside of me. A perfect little miracle.

  Tristan puts his face in his hands and scrubs up and down. “Do you think it’s wise to get attached? You mentioned giving her up for adoption.”

  “That was before I saw her on the monitor. Before I saw the blood and thought I was going to lose her. I was scared. I still am. But I can’t give her up. She’s mine and I already love her.” I rub my hand over my belly. “My mom did it alone for the first four years.”

  “Your mom had your aunt Kayla.”

  “That’s true, but she still did it and I will too.”

  “You aren’t going to do this alone. My mom had to do that shit alone and I’m not letting you go through what she did.”

  “Tristan, I can’t let you do this.”

  “Yes, you can, and you’re going to. I want to. Kaden isn’t my biological father, but I love him just the same and he loves me as if I were his. We’ll do it together. As far as everyone will know, I’m this baby’s father.”

  “No, you can’t do that. What about Gina? I can’t be the reason you two break up.”

  “Bella, you’re my best friend. You come first. You want to keep this baby then I’ll support you one hundred percent and be by your side. We’ll do this together.”

  The following weeks are crazy. Tristan breaks things off with Gina, telling her I’m pregnant. Unfortunately, that also means pretending he cheated on her. Tristan feels it would be best if everyone, including Gina, think he’s the biological father, so I go along with it.

  After our huge fight with M
arco, Tristan spoke with Caleb, who said he’s cut Marco off completely. He flew out again and tried to get him help but Marco refused all help, and then Mathias kicked him out. Marco has money from his fights, so I doubt he’s homeless, but Tristan and I haven’t spoken to him since that day, and I have no desire to ever speak to him again. Do I love Marco? Of course I do. But I have to put my baby first.

  Tristan and I have agreed to take things slow. I’m not ready to be in a relationship with him, especially not sexually, and he says he understands. I told him I would understand if he wants to have sex with other women but he said he’s fine.

  When we told our parents, our moms cried, my dad freaked the hell out, and Kaden said he’ll do anything he can to support us. My dad asked if we were going to get married and we both agreed we’re taking it one day at a time. It was a shock to everyone that Tristan and I were together. My mom gave me a weird look a few times but didn’t call me out on it, thank God.

  Because of being pregnant, I had to cancel my UFC fight. I’m still allowed to work out while pregnant, but I can’t fight, obviously. Once I’m healed, I fully plan to get right back into training. But for now, my focus is on the baby. I took the summer off school to get situated, but I’m back for the fall semester. With the baby not due until the end of January, I’m taking a full load now and taking next semester and the summer off.

  The last two appointments I insisted on going myself since they were just routine visits, but since this one I knew we would get to see the baby, Tristan insisted on coming along, which is why Dr. Ruben is just meeting Tristan for the first time.

  Tristan squeezes my hand and I look over at him and then back to the monitor. “Here’s your baby’s feet and hands. There’s the spine. Are you finding out the sex today?” Dr. Ruben asks.

  “Yes,” I say, staring at my beautiful little alien-looking baby.

  “Okay, you see these three lines? Right here?” Dr. Ruben freezes the screen. “These mean you’re having a girl, and right now she’s measuring perfect.” He takes a few more pictures of the baby before he says, “Everything looks great. Go ahead and get dressed and schedule your next appointment up front.”