Blue
: Chapter 11

FOR FORTY MINUTES, I’d been standing at the bathroom counter in my en-suite, with the contents of my make-up bag spilt over the granite as I applied the finishing touches to my face in between replays of what happened in Walker’s office.

It had been four days.

Four days since I pathetically blackmailed him with a threat I had no intention of following through with.

My phone rang against the counter, disrupting me from my trance, and seeing Ebony’s name on the screen, I lowered my make-up and hit answer.

“Blue!” Her drunk voice sounded down the line before I could address her.

“Hey.” I frowned at myself in the mirror, holding my phone with one hand as I brought my make-up brush up to my cheek. She couldn’t see me, but if she could, she’d know something was up. Something close to guilt was written all over my face.

Walker had to know I never meant to threaten him, right?

Swiping the fluffy end of the brush over my cheekbones, I listened down the line as Ebony rattled off her address to whoever gave her a ride.

“Were you at a party? How drunk are you?” I asked, keeping my tone even.

“Pretty steaming,” she said. “I need pizza.”

“Who’s giving you a ride?”

“I don’t remember his name,” she whispered.

I stopped mid-brush. “Eb, you’re not in a random’s car, are you? Tell me you didn’t just meet him, at least.”

Her conversation with the stranger was no more than muffled sentences, and then she gave me back her attention. “He’s not random. We’ve hooked up a few times in the last five hours.”

“You’ve hooked up, but you don’t know his name? What happened with banks262?”

“He wasn’t who I thought he was,” she admitted. “That day we were meant to Skype at the beginning of summer? It never happened.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“It doesn’t matter. Hey, this Walker guy you’re staying with, is he hot?”

Thoughts of his breath against my lips, the lingering glances, the subtle touches, and the way he’d continued to sleep beside me every night without a word only made me realise how deep things had gotten between us so quickly.

And there Ebony was… putting things into perspective for me by asking one simple question.

Is he hot?

He was everything if not completely unexpected.

I looked over my shoulder and then turned to close the door. Walker had already worked out and left for work, but he’d organised a team of interior designers to turn an empty room into a bedroom after spending the last five nights beside me. As if he suddenly decided he no longer could. I didn’t understand it, but how was I suppose to?

Ebony wasn’t on loudspeaker, and I was keeping my anxious self away from the strange men in the house, but I still didn’t want them to overhear anything from my mouth that wasn’t for their ears. And I definitely didn’t want them to see the disappointment on my face, even if they had no clue why it was there.

Ebony remained on the line, waiting on me, while I took time to answer her question. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I guess,” she mocked.

“Okay,” I groaned, feeling a pang of sorts in my gut. “He’s a real ten out of ten. Happy?”

“Very. Hold a sec.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, no name, pit stop at Pizzahole, please and thank you.”

“Ugh, Pizzahole, I’m wounded.”

“I know. I wish you were with me. Nothing is the same without you. How have you only been gone a week? It already feels like forever. Is Duke everything you expected? Remind me why I didn’t apply for college again?”

Now would have been the perfect time to tell her what happened on Wednesday, but I was still waiting to hear back after submitting an appeal. Walker was yet to give me an official job. And everything was…what it was.

“Yeah,” I said with little enthusiasm. “And because you said college was for people who knew what they wanted to do with their life. And you didn’t.”

I rolled my eyes, but even with my tone, she didn’t notice my lack of enthusiasm, and instead cursed through the line as a beep sounded. “Shit. My battery is about to die. Love you. We’ll catch up soon, ’kay?”

“Love you. Charge your phone when you get home so I know you’re sa-” Before I could finish my sentence, the call was cut. I stared at my phone screen before lowering it to the counter alongside my make-up brush. And then my phone rang again before I had time to consider what I was doing next.

This time, I didn’t bother looking at the screen.

Relief settled through me. “It didn’t die?”

“What didn’t die?” my father’s voice spoke down the line.

“Dad,” I muttered, confusion etched between my brows. “Sorry, I thought you were Ebony. I’d barely been on the phone to her before her battery died.”

“Why is Ebony ringing you at gone four in the morning?”

“Dad,” I said again. “You’re ringing me at gone four in the morning. Ebony just missed me, that’s all. I don’t understand why you have such a problem with her.”

“I know her type; she’s tried to lead you astray plenty of times. Do her parents have any idea of the type of daughter they’re raising?”

“Do you?” I shot back.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, dad. What do you think it means?”

“Where has this attitude come from?”

“Perhaps I’m still waiting for an apology.”

“If you had bothered to answer any of my calls or respond to my recent messages, you may have gotten one. The only thing I am now is disappointed.”

“That makes two of us,” I muttered, staring at my reflection. If I was honest, being disappointed came part and parcel to being the daughter of James Sterling. It seemed I couldn’t escape him, and I couldn’t escape his name. No matter where in the world I was. No matter who in the world I was with.

He sighed. “Where is Walker?”

“He’s at work.” I frowned. He always seemed to be at work. “Why?”

“No particular reason,” he said, his tone softening. “I just haven’t heard from you, princess, and Walker’s emails have been few and far between. I expected to hear how you’re getting on at Duke.”

More focused on how Walker had been emailing him updates on me, I ignored the latter, partly relieved to know Duke hadn’t gotten in touch with him regarding my suspension. “You emailed Walker to check up on me?” I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I can’t believe you at times. I’m days away from turning eighteen, and you still treat me like I’m eight.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” I scoffed. “If you’re just ringing to see how I am, to spy on me, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Just fine? I expect Walker’s taking care of you. I trust that man with your life.”

My eyebrows lowered. “With my life?”

That was a big statement to make. So big he probably wouldn’t have believed me if I did spin a web of lies and tell him Walker had come on to me.

“That’s what I said. Look”—he breathed a weighty sigh—“I have to go. I have a business meeting in a few hours. But next time I call, you best pick up. Or I’ll fly my plane over myself and see that you’re safe.”

“Sure, dad,” I mumbled bitterly. “Or you could just ask Walker for an update, as you seem so certain you can trust him with my life.”

But he didn’t let me have the last say.

“Don’t be petty, princess. It’s not pretty,” he said, and then he followed it with, “One day you’ll understand.”

WALKER

IT WAS after ten when I stepped out of The Lagoon. Hudson’s injury was improving, and he’d dismissed his setback Tuesday. According to him, it felt a lot like a grade one injury and less like a two. I wasn’t going to argue. If that’s what he said it felt like I couldn’t tell him otherwise. As far as things went, fight night was still going ahead, and it would be one less weight off my back once it was all over and dealt with.

I greeted Finley as I slid into the backseat of his BMW. “Finley, four days in a row. It’s like I’ve won the lottery,” I said dryly.

There was a slight resemblance of a smile on his face, but I’m sure he was just as pissed off with my sarcasm as I’d intended him to be. I’d given Blue access to him since she’d arrived, which meant I was driving myself around up until my overindulgence of alcohol in front of my audience on Wednesday. Because good ol’ Finley had taken it upon himself to go back to being my personal chauffeur. Granted, he didn’t need to take Blue anywhere since I’d got her suspended. That was something I was fixing behind the scenes. Mr Smith had a distaste for my money, but there were members on the committee that accepted it without question. All I was waiting on was the cheques to clear. And with any luck, Blue would be off my back and back in Duke by tomorrow morning.

Finley nodded at me in the rearview mirror. “Nowhere else to be, boss.”

It was without question that he’d rather pick me up every night and not risk me being behind the wheel when I was under the influence, but he couldn’t be held accountable for my actions. In truth, he was my most loyal employee. And although he tried not to make it too obvious, he was evidently worried about me. About my drinking habits. And he was perhaps concerned with how I was treating Blue. I was confident he’d come to the rescue of any damsel in distress. Especially if he happened to have a soft spot for the same one I did.

“To Kensington?” he asked.

“Later. First, can you drive…” Home was on the tip of my tongue, though I’d already established that it had never been my home. “To the townhouse,” I said, running a hand through my hair. It was the last place I wanted to go, but, “Needs must.”

I palmed the breast pocket of my beige coat, feeling for the envelope I’d placed inside it not so long ago. All I needed was Sophia’s signature, and our divorce would be well underway. Although some part of me didn’t want to go ahead with my choice because of the aggravation it would cause. Still, I knew it was the right call to make. And at the end of the day, what was a marriage without love? The answer spoke for itself. It was inevitable both me and Sophia wouldn’t last. Our marriage was both materialistic and convenient. We weren’t a wilting house plant needing water. We weren’t the roots of a tree or branches that blossomed flowers. We were merely weeds, growing where we weren’t sown.

Finley drove down the dark streets of London while I closed my eyes and relaxed my chin on my fist. It was nearing eleven by the time he parked on the curb outside the stone townhouse, and I was tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of every encounter. Tired of wanting it to be over and done with.

He gave me his usual nod of acknowledgement through the rearview mirror and switched off the engine.

An orange glow came from the downstairs oval windows of the grey brick property, which told me Sophia was home. However, I couldn’t seem to get myself out of the vehicle. It was as if I was back in primary school and my feet were stuck in mud.

I took a deep breath before exhaling. “Just a moment, Fin.”

Finley’s kind eyes watched me through the mirror, a silent show of support. And then I placed my hand on the car door and swung it open before forcing myself to my feet.

“I won’t be long,” I spoke through the open door. Then I closed it before making my way towards the property.

I probably should’ve just posted the letter, but the masochist in me wanted to see the look on her face when she realised I’d no longer be funding her lifestyle. The paper in my hands was clear evidence of my final straw.

Before I could climb the steps to the front door, someone swung it open. The person I saw staring back at me was the last person I expected to see walk out.

I did a double-take.

“Wez?” I said, a questionable edge to my voice as I stared at his unruly blonde hair and the tattoos peeking out from the edges of his creased t-shirt.

“Uh, Walker.” His brows rose while he closed the door to the property behind him and meandered down the steps.

“Care to explain?” I asked, signalling to my–to Sophia’s–home.

“I just dropped by to see you.”

I frowned. “For what reason? I’m not your coach. Since when do The Lagoon’s fighters just drop by unannounced and out of business hours? There’s no reason for you to be here.”

“I… came to apologise.”

“At this time of night?” My head tilted to the side as I observed him. If he were a dog, I imagined his tail would’ve been between his legs. His eyes were wide, alert, and slippery as fuck.

When I heard the distinctive sound of the door reopening behind him, I looked up. Sophia’s head inched through a small space, keeping the door enclosed on her body. Wez cleared his throat uncomfortably, and like a shot, Sophia’s startled hazel irises zoned in on the situation in front of her. Her eyes drew me to her first, but as soon as I dropped my own to her flushed red cheeks, everything else snapped into place.

It had been a while, but… “The only time my wife looks like that is when she’s been thoroughly fucked.”

Sophia spoke with no delay, which told me more than she probably ever would. “I can explain.”

Typically, her words couldn’t have felt any more scripted. Wez looked between us in annoyance, his knee bent as his feet lingered between two steps. His hands were fidgeting at his sides, like he often did in the cage before a fight. Eager for that first throw.

A humourless laugh hurled from me. “Him?” I said while tipping my chin to the boy in question. “Was it him the first time too, or some other poor fucker?” I looked to the ground, clenching my jaw and scrubbing my forehead free of tension before focusing my attention back on Wez. “This is the reason you’ve been absent from the gym? Because you’ve been fucking my wife behind my back? Jesus.”

I rose to him with a snigger as he settled his feet on the bottom step closest to me. “Everything The Lagoon has done for you. The best coaches, the best prep, one of the top organisations in the fucking country, and you’ve given it all up. And for what?” I pointed harshly at Sophia. “That crazy fucking bitch?”

His fist collided with my chest in a half-hearted jab, the step giving him higher ground over me as his nose looked down onto mine. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

“Are you serious…?” Another humourless laugh made its way from my throat when he didn’t answer. “Jesus fuck, you are.”

Seething, he got in my face, forcing his head against mine. Pushing him back a few steps, I practically spat my next words. “All this time, you’ve been fucking my wife. All that wasted potential because your mind’s been on pussy, fuck.”

“It was him, wasn’t it, Soph?” I asked, turning to her again as Wez retreated with a bounce in his step. “It was Wez the first time?”

Wez scoffed and ground his jaw, seeming to be disgusted I’d even questioned it. Sophia looked guilty, but somehow innocent all at once. That was her, an award-winning actress when the mood struck. All she needed was a red carpet, and she’d be in her element.

“You know, there were times when I looked at you and I thought how fortunate I was to have something so beautiful. Now I’m standing here wondering how I’d ever been so deluded. How did I ever replace beauty in something so damn fucking ugly? In something so damn fucking fake?”

The door closed suddenly with a slam, and she ran down the steps, her silk camisole barely covering her breasts as she tied her silk robe around her waist. Disgust filled me as tears she brought on herself fell from her smudged eyes and sexed-up her make-up further.

“Head down, was it? Did you think of me when he fucked you? Did you moan my fucking name?”

“Walker, stop.”

She forced her way to me on the pavement, driving Wez off to the side as she passed him on the steps.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Stop?” I scoffed. “I didn’t realise it was possible to make yourself look any more desperate. What was it you said not so long ago, that you fucking loved me?”

Wez shifted down the steps and to the pavement, his shoulder level with mine as he stared at Sophia, confusion etched between his brows. “What the fuck, Sophia?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“You told me you didn’t love him.”

Sophia reached out to grab my coat, her eyes pleading with her apology.

It was a mess of all fucking proportions. My mind spun, wondering if she’d told Wez about our sham of a marriage. Though I stood stoic, waiting on a verbal response to both him and me.

Her fingers clutched at the midst of my coat, completely ignoring Wez as he began pacing beside us. Not being able to watch on while she fought for someone that wasn’t him.

“Walker, please. I promise. I promise now that you’re home, this will never happen again.”

“This isn’t my home.” I pointed over her shoulder. Frantic, she continuously clenched and unclenched my coat as she tried to force another reaction from me.

I looked over my shoulder to Wez, who seemed to be wearing a hole in the tarmac, clenching his best hand. If he knew what was good for him–for his fucking career–he’d leave.

After sliding my hand into the breast pocket of my coat, I pulled out the envelope that had been safely tucked away in there. Sophia’s gaze followed the paper as I pushed it into her chest.

“This was never my home, Soph. You were never my home.” Even through my revulsion, my heart still plummeted. “I came to give you this.” I held the envelope against her chest until her hand reached to take it from me.

My eyes focused on the rock on her finger, shining under the streetlights. The psychopathic bitch still had the nerve to wear a ring like it meant something.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice shaking as she held the envelope in front of her.

I made space between us, glancing another look behind me. This time, I noticed Finley stepping out of the car, watching the three of us with some kind of authority, though he held none.

Sophia tore open the envelope with her finger and pulled out our divorce papers.

“Why? How?” she questioned, her gaze darting over every word.

“I had them fast-tracked,” I admitted. “A lot like our marriage, huh? But to question why is ridiculous. This was a long time coming.”

Her eyes returned to mine; only instead of tears, they shone with violence. She wore a look I knew just as well as the last. The same regard she always gave me when she accused me of doing something I hadn’t done.

“I knew there was someone else,” she said, dropping the letter to the floor as her eyes began inspecting any visible skin I had on display for something that wasn’t there. A sign that another woman had her lips or claws on me.

“Seriously, what the fuck, Sophia? What the actual fuck?” Wez cursed, stepping between us.

He gripped her arm, and my eyes followed the movement, my jaw clenching. The kid was going to fuck his whole career because he couldn’t keep his dick in check or his hands to himself.

I took a step back and spoke to Sophia over his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a fuck anymore what you’ve done, Soph. What were you thinking fucking someone associated with my club? Did you think it would hurt me? The lad’s got nothing but trouble attached to his name and less than an average salary. Fuck. You’ll be disappointed to hear he won’t be able to take care of you the way I fucking did.”

Maybe my ego was a little wounded, given our eleven-year relationship.

I saw it coming–Wez pivoting on the spot and lunging into me. But with alcohol in my system, my reactions were slow. I stumbled to the ground when his fist caught me in the jaw. Sophia squealed, and then I felt Finley’s arm pulling up my own. I didn’t know how drunk he believed me to be, but I was already up from the pavement before he could assist me any further.

Blood filled my mouth and seeped between my teeth, yet I stood taller. “Fuck you both,” I said, hurling bloody spit to the concrete. “You deluded fucks continue your affair. Please”—I placed my palms together, lowering them as I bent at the knee—“don’t stop on my account.”

Sophia turned on the waterworks as she turned to Wez and pulled him back up the steps with shaky hands. At this point, she’d pass as a fucking panda. And Wez… fuck him. After everything The Lagoon did for him, it was karma’s turn now.

“Pick up the papers, Sophia,” I growled, walking back towards the car with Finley at my side. “You better sign them, or so help me fucking God, I’ll take everything and leave you with nothing but what you had when we met. Do you think I give a shit where you end up? You think I’ll give a shit when you’ve got no place to go? If you think for one second I’ll be there to pick up the pieces when I’ve offered you an easy way out, you’re more desperate than I ever gave you credit for.”

Her lip wobbled, but she didn’t dare speak. And neither did Wez.

By the time I was seated back in the BMW, false composure kept me eerily still. Finley drove us through the dark streets of London, only speaking when we finally arrived outside the doors of my complex.

“Don’t take it out on the girl.”

I snickered.

Don’t take it out on the girl?

He meant no harm. I knew that. But what the fuck did he take me for?

“You know me better than that.” I looked at his reflection in the mirror. He wasn’t looking at me, which was a first. Except I wondered if I’d look at me too, given who I’d become.

Maybe my father had shaped me more than I was willing to accept.

Maybe Finley saw something in me I didn’t.

I placed my hand on the car door and swung it open, but he spoke again as I was about to slip out.

“Walker.”

With one foot on the pavement, I turned to face him grimly. “You got something to say, Finley, you fucking say it. By all means, don’t let your salary hold you back.”

“I mean no harm. You’re a good man. But do me a solid and lay off the booze. That girl upstairs, she’s a pearl. Break her, and there’s no way to repair the damage.”

Disregarding Blue, I replied only to the latter. “I’m still functioning. Big difference.” And with that, I climbed from the car and slammed the door closed behind me.