“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 a halt after his last stunt in Las Vegas,” Jen the news anchor continues and I cringe at my name.
The 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 response,” 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 rise 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 everyday 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 fight because of my demons. But the passion to still practice and just release the adrenaline is still there. I love fighting, I just don’t trust myself in a ring with competition.
“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.
Chapter Two
7 Years Old
Tate
“Come on baby, I need to get to the church, Mrs. Bailey locked herself out again and I’m the only other person with a key.” My mom shakes her head as she pulls the pie from the oven for our new next door neighbors. That’s my mom, always doing the right thing. Daddy says she has a big heart.
“Do we have to go over there?” I whine, pulling my hair into a tight ponytail.
“Yes. It’s the neighborly thing to do. Besides, they might have a little girl you can play with this summer. Wouldn’t that be ni-Tatum Davis, do you always have to put your hair up? It’s looks so pretty when you wear it down.” My momma puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head to the side.
Momma is always trying to girly me up. I hate it. To emphasize my disliking of such a thing I point my finger down my throat and act as if I’m gagging.
She laughs at my reaction and puts an oven mitt on to carry the hot pie.
“How come Journey doesn’t have to go?”
“Journey is at summer camp, you know that.”
“We can wait for her,” I suggest.
“Stop trying to get out of this. You’re going. Now come on, let’s go make some friends.” Rolling my eyes, I follow her out the front door. Why does she have to be so nice all of the time?
Crossing my arms I drag my feet as we walk next door.