Crash

  CRASH

  THE FIGHTER ROMANCE SERIES – BOOK 4

  By Alycia Taylor

  Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.

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  Read Part 1 - Pulse (The Fighter Romance Series - Book #1)

  Read Part 2 - Entice (The Fighter Romance Series - Book #2)

  Read Part 3 - Clash (The Fighter Romance Series - Book #3)

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  CHAPTER ONE

  I was looking up into the eyes of a monster. I honestly thought he stood too close on purpose...that way I had to tip my head back to look at him. Mitch was a wild card. I don’t think he even knew what he was going to do next. He wanted me to trade my mother’s safety for Paul’s whereabouts. In a shaky voice I finally said, “Look, I can’t make that kind of decision in a split second. You’re going to have to give me more time. It doesn’t matter which one of your choices I pick, someone gets hurt.”

  “Sure, yeah…I’m as stupid as I look,” he said, sarcastically. I wished that was true because he did look plenty stupid. “I know the second I walk out of here you’re on the phone to that fucker Paul and by the time you “decide” what to do; he’ll move Marie and my kid. Your mother is in jail as we speak. I had them put her out in the general population too. Have you ever been to the L.A. County Jail? It’s not a pretty place. Them girls in there…they’re the ones that every body’s mama warned ‘em about. They’ll be all over your pretty little mama in a heartbeat.” He smiled as he told me my mother was sitting in that overcrowded jail with the dredges of society who wouldn’t think twice about doing her harm. This guy is the furthest thing from what a police officer should be. I wondered how the people he worked for and with couldn’t see it. I was scared to death for Marie and Victor…and even Paul. No telling what this creep would do to him. But how could I trade their safety for my mother’s? That was a no-brainer, I couldn’t and Paul may never forgive me…but family has to come first when you’re backed into a wall. I hoped that Paul of all people would understand that. It was the way he lived his life, after all.

  “There’s an old abandoned gym where Paul’s Sensei used to train…” I finally told him. “It’s over on the East Side…” I was on the verge of tears and the words were barely making sense. Mitch understood them though…perfectly. He knew a lot about Paul…too much for his and his family’s safety.

  “Son of a bitch! Why didn’t I think of that? It’s perfect. I have to give it to your boyfriend, he’s a punk, but he’s no dummy. I know exactly where that old place it. Nice hide-out…not nice enough though.” Mitch winked at me then and said, “Don’t cry little girl, you did the right thing. Mitchie will make it all better.” I was suddenly nauseous. This guy was nuts.

  I was shaking all over as I saw him race out the door towards his car. Whatever he did when he got there and whatever happened afterwards was going to be my fault. He didn’t mention getting my mother out of jail. Did I just sign all of their death warrants? The bile hit the back of my throat and I ran into the kitchen and dry heaved into the sink. Then I picked up my phone with a shaky hand and called Paul.

  He picked up on the first ring. “Jessie! I’m glad you called. I’m sorry about…”

  “Paul, listen…I have to tell you something, it’s important…”

  “What’s wrong? Is your mom okay? Did you find her?”

  “Mitch was just here.”

  “That son of a bitch! I’m sorry, Jessie. Did he hurt you? I’ll kill the bastard!”

  “No Paul, listen,” God, this was hard. “He’s on his way to the old gym where you guys are now. You have to go and get Marie and Victor out of there. He’s spun out…he’s crazy…”

  The hurt I heard I heard in his voice nearly killed me as he said, “You told him where we are? Are you insane, Jessie? Do you know what he’ll do to my sister and my nephew if he finds us? Have you not been listening or did you just not believe me the fifty or so times that I told you?”

  “No, Paul listen to me please…” I was suddenly talking to dead air and choking on my own tears. He hung up on me, not knowing why I would tell Mitch where they were. I needed him to know that I didn’t think I had a choice. I know he cares for me, but I doubt if he’d been faced with the same one he would have chosen me over his family. I started to call him back, but I doubted that he would even answer now. No, I knew that he wouldn’t. It would be a waste of effort. I just felt so bad. I was sick again. I couldn’t stop heaving and I was shaking all over. As I was leaning over the sink again, my phone began ringing. I looked over at it and saw that it said, “L.A. County Jail.” Was it Mom calling, or was it someone calling to tell me something happened to her? I didn’t want to answer it. Picking it up in a shaky hand, not knowing whether or not I could actually take another piece of bad news I said, “Hello.”

  “Jessie, it’s mom.”

  With a sense of relief at the sound of her voice I said, “Mom! Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay honey. I’m so sorry…” she was crying.

  “Don’t cry, Mom. We’ll figure this out together, okay? Have you been arraigned?”

  “No. Jessie you sound terrible. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. “I’ve just been really worried about you. What are they charging you with? Have they set bail?”

  “No. They didn’t even book me in. They’ve had me in a holding cell this whole time. They just came in and unlocked it said I’m free to go.”

  Feeling a small wave of relief wash over me, but anger at the lying son of a bitch who made me believe she was out in general population, I said, “Okay Mom. Do not leave there, okay? Stay right where you are. I’m leaving right now. I’ll be there.”

  “Okay baby, I’ll be here too. Jessie…I’m so sorry…”

  “I know Mom, I’ll be there soon.” I hung up and after washing my face and brushing the bile out of my teeth, I grabbed my keys and headed downtown to the jail. I had been there before…more than once. Between Justin and my Mom, I was an old hand at the visiting and release process. I went broke my first year in school bailing them both out.

  On the way there today I couldn’t help but wonder if I should talk to someone about Mitch while I was there. Paul and Marie couldn’t spend the rest of their life hiding. He had also become a menace to me and my own family. The man literally terrified me and I wasn’t all that easily scared. I had to wonder though how Paul would feel about me doing something like that. He has said before that because Mitch was a cop, going to them would only make matters worse. What if he was right about that? I hated doubting that law enforcement was there to protect me, but I had seen Mitch’s ugly up close. What if there were more like him? At least Paul and Marie and Victor would be gone again where Mitch couldn’t find them soon…I hoped. The problem was, I didn’t have that luxury. I couldn’t just pick up and leave my home and my job. I had some savings, but not enough to live off of long term. If Mitch got to the old gym tonight and he doesn’t find Paul and Marie and Victor…he’s not going to leave me and my mother alone. I knew that as well as I knew my own name. This guy wasn’t giving up. I could see that in his eyes earlier. I wondered how far he was willing to go. Were our lives in danger?

  I pulled into the crowded parking lot in front of the jail with all of that on my mind. When I made it up to the front steps I saw Mom waiting outside by the door. I think she was sharing a cigarette with some other lady who had just been kicked. I didn’t care at that point. I was just glad to see her in one piece. She was watching my face as I came up the stairs, looking like she was trying
to gauge just how angry I was at her before she finally came towards me. She stopped about a foot away and waited for me to speak first.

  I saw her relax a little as I said, “Are you alright, Mom?” She looked like a mess. Her pretty silky hair was a tangled mess and her make-up long gone. She had dark circles underneath her eyes.

  She nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay. I’m glad to be out of there. I hate this, all of it. I’m really sorry.” As usual, her eyes were filled with tears. I didn’t have any doubt that she was sorry. I knew she didn’t want to live her life like this…but she was an addict and she had to get help. I went back and forth so much from being angry to being hurt to being an enabler. I knew that I had to be strong and stop enabling her before she was ever going to get any help. I had to find the strength to tell her I wasn’t going to take part in this drama any longer. Maybe if I’d had the strength to tell Paul that same thing, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Tough love was something I needed to study up on. I sucked at it.

  “I know you’re sorry Mom,” I told her in a sympathetic voice. I didn’t want to upset her here in front of all of these people. “Let’s go home and talk about this, okay. I don’t want to have this conversation on the steps of the jail.” Mom nodded. I noticed for the first time how many fine lines had begun to find their way onto her pretty face. I knew she wasn’t thirty anymore, but I just hadn’t realized how much she’d aged lately. I was sure some of it was hard-living and that just stoked my resolve to insist that she had to make some changes. She was a forty-something year old lady. She had to grow up sometime.

  We drove home mostly in silence. When we got there, I found myself checking the parking lot for strange vehicles…or Mitch. Then when we got up to the apartment, I made sure the door didn’t look like it had been tampered with. I knew it hadn’t even been long enough for Mitch to drive out to where the gym was and realize they weren’t still there and drive back, but this whole mess was making me paranoid.

  Once we were inside and I made sure all was well in the apartment I said, “Okay Mom, tell me what happened.”

  We sat down in the living room and she wouldn’t look at me. She was staring at a spot on the floor as she said, “I went to that meeting you took me to. I talked and I told them that I was an addict and I was a mother, and my addiction had always come first.” She had tears rolling down her cheeks. I knew she’s been thinking about all of this. She needed to get it out, so I listened, quietly. “I told them everything…the truth. I told them what a good girl you are and what a horrible mother I’ve been. I told them how you had to get yourself ready for school most days because I was either high, or asleep or not even there…and how you never missed a day. I told them about how proud I was at your high school graduation when you were valedictorian…right up to the point where I had to admit I had no right to be proud. I hadn’t done anything to get you there. You did that all on your own. I pushed you into a relationship with a dealer. I told them that too.” She paused and I said, “Mom, do you need some water or something?”

  She shook her head. “You always want to take care of me,” she said. “I don’t deserve it. I may as well have prostituted you, Jessie. What kind of mother does that? I’m despicable.”

  “No mom, stop that. You never “prostituted” me in any way. I met Justin, I was attracted to him and I thought I could fix him. You weren’t even there when I made that decision. I was naïve then, thank God, people grow up.” She looked like that was a personal slam to her. Maybe it was. Some things, she needed to hear. I went on to say, “I have to admit that the fact you were so happy when you found out what he did for a living thoroughly disgusted me…but you can’t take all the blame and I don’t give it to you, not for that.”

  “There’s a lot that I need to take the blame for, I know that. I know it every day. I can hardly look at myself in the mirror. I have over twenty years of time to make up to you. I wish there was any way I could…I’m so ashamed of what I’ve become. My life is such a mess and because of that, so is yours.”

  We could go on like that all day so I re-directed her a bit by saying, “So how did you end up in jail, Mom?”

  She sighed and said, “I left the meeting last night with all those memories fresh in my head. I felt like the scum of the earth. I felt sorry for you and sorry for myself and I was even questioning my right to live. The pills I’d taken earlier in the day when you were gone were wearing off and I just needed a little taste of something…you know?” She acted like that was understandable to anyone, but the truth was, I didn’t know. I had no idea what it felt like to want to alter your thoughts. I loved being in control of mine. I needed to be. As far as I know, I’d never been addicted to anything. That’s not to say I didn’t have my own set of issues…just that I didn’t understand that particular one. I stayed silent though. She knew that I didn’t understand that part of her. After a few minutes, she went on, “Instead of heading home on the bus like you told me, I walked down towards the warehouse district. I’d been down there before. I knew that someone would be out, selling something. I hadn’t walked more than a few miles when I saw who I thought I was looking for. There was this young guy, about your age I guess, just sitting there on this brick wall out in front of the park. He was watching me and I decided to take a chance. I asked him if he knew where I could get something to calm my nerves and he said, “Something like what?” I’m so stupid. I said, “You know some OxyContin or something like that. He took out a little baggie with a few pills in it. I asked him how much and he told me. I handed him the money…he handed me the drugs and as I started to walk away he told me that I was under arrest.”

  “Where did you get the money to buy the drugs?” I knew the answer but I wanted to see if she would be honest with me.

  “I’ve been saving it from the money you left me for food. I know that’s the same as stealing since I used it for drugs…but you know I don’t think clearly when I’m using.”

  She went back and forth from remorseful to making excuses. It was typical addict behavior and went hand and hand with all of the lies. I couldn’t stand this drama any longer. Shaking my head I said, “Wow Mom, maybe you were lucky he was a cop. Do you have any idea how dangerous that part of town is for a woman alone? I could have gotten a much worse phone call. Do you have any idea how awful it is for me to live that way?”

  “I know,” she said. I didn’t think she really did. Then she said the most honest thing I had heard her say, “But when I get like that, I don’t care.”

  That was the bottom line. When she was using, the drugs were absolutely the only thing that mattered. “So what are we going to do, Mom? We have to do something.”

  “I know,” she said through her tears. “What do you want me to do, Jessie?”

  “You have to make your own decisions about this, but what I want is the same thing I’ve wanted you to do my whole life, clean up yours. I can’t do this anymore, and I know I’ve said that before Mom…but I mean it this time. I’m at the end of my rope. I love you, but I can’t come home to painted walls or a missing mother anymore. I just can’t do it. Your drama spills over into every life you touch and it’s not fair.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to move out?”

  “I want you to get some help. If you choose not to do that, then yes Mom, I’m done. If you agree to the help though, I’ll do whatever I can. I want you to get better.”

  “You mean that you want me to go into a rehab or something?” The word “rehab” seemed to stick on her tongue. Just the thought of getting clean scared her to death.

  “Would you be willing to do that?” I asked her. Then I re-iterated, “You can’t do it for me though, or just so I won’t cut you out of my life.. You have to do it for you, Mom. It won’t work otherwise and it won’t be easy either…”

  “I know, I’ve been there before once, remember? It was hard as hell. I was clean for over a year and then I got into that bad relationship and he hurt me and I just fell right back into
my old patterns.”

  She was still giving the same old excuses too. “If you’re really serious about changing your life you have to change all of it, Mom. You can’t keep cycling through these bad relationships. You can’t keep depending on someone else for your own happiness. You have to learn how to love yourself and take care of yourself. No one else is going to do that, Mom. These men you’re with don’t respect you because you don’t respect yourself. If you listen to your therapists, I’m sure they will tell you the same.”

  Mom was nodding. She looked terrified and I was trying to ignore that and stay strong. She was quiet for a while and eventually she said, “I want to stop using, for good. I want to try and make amends to you for everything I’ve put you through. I really don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to die and I don’t want to live my life this way forever, I’m just scared.”

  “I know you’re scared Mom. I’m sorry about that, and I don’t need you to do anything for me except get better. I wouldn’t suggest this if I didn’t think it was the best thing for you…for both of us. I want my mother back. I love you. I will always love you. But I’m done with all of this. I can’t…I won’t watch you destroy yourself any longer. You need to do this before this addiction kills you.”

  “I want to make you proud of me. I want to be a real mother. I know it’s hard to believe, but I do. I always hated that I wasn’t that to you. When I was high, it was easy to believe it wasn’t my fault, but it was…it still is.”

  “I know you want to do right by me.” I really did. For years I could see in her eyes that my mother was still in there and fighting to be let out. I knew she loved me. “Can I call around and see if we can find a facility for you to go to?”

  “Yes…I’m scared though, Jessie,” she had tears spilling down her cheeks again and I realized at that moment I did too. I went over and sat down next to her on the couch. I put my arm around her and pulled her against my shoulder and held her while she cried. Kissing the top of her silky red head I said, “I know, Mom. I’m scared too. But I have faith that you can do this, and I’m going to be there by your side, every step of the way.”