Chapter 12

12

Perrie – One Month Later

I carefully pack my dad’s trophy belts from his old fighting days, my hands trembling as I lay them neatly in the bag before I grab one of his ties. I am not willing to lose it all, and I need some memories of him.

Swallowing back my tears, I head to the back of his shared closet with Mom, ignoring all her belongings. I gently pull on the long mirror, revealing the safe Mom has never been able to get into.

From the scratch marks, you can see she’s tried, though.

I roll my eyes and enter the code; the day I was born, then Cassidy’s, then my birth month, then hers, and then the year I was born before the click sounds, and I open it.

Today, I’m packing all the stuff I don’t want to see go to charity. My room and Cassidy’s are already empty. I put all her stuff in storage for when she finally returns—if she returns….

Dad’s stuff is the only thing I need to go through, and if Mom hasn’t packed her crap, then the charity van will be taking it all.

The house has finally sold for the asking price of $330,000. Half I’m placing into Cassidy’s bank account, already thankfully having the transfer details, while the rest will be going into a savings account that I opened after Dad died, putting most of my winnings from my fights in there.

That's another reason why fixing the gym has taken me years.

I have a spending limit, and I’ve ensured I keep to it. My diner salary keeps me sorted with the day-to-day necessities, while a quarter of my fight money goes to the gym.

I swallow hard as I pick up a few baby photos of me and Cass with dad, my eyes tearing at the wide smile on his face holding baby me while Cass looks at me with awe. I pick up three stacks of cash and a smile graces my face, a little chuckle at the note.

Perrie’s payback cash from her fights –

Of course, he knew I was fighting; it would explain why he trained me harder than anyone else and allowed Acid to go all out with me.

A few tears fall, and I wipe them away. I place the cash in the duffel bag near my feet before grabbing all the paperwork for the gym and house inside, and putting it in the duffel, too. Then, I go through the rest of the paperwork and my eyes widen when I see some are from a private investigator.

I quickly glance over it, and I swallow hard.

Holy….

Clearing my throat, I put the paperwork in the bag before ensuring I haven’t missed anything else in the safe. Most of the things are replaceable, and some are valuable; I’m just trying to ensure that the important things are all saved.

Sighing, I zip up the bag before looking around the closet one last time. I don't see anything I know Dad would have wanted to keep. I checked all his shirt and jacket pockets, only finding a few receipts for birthday presents for me and Cass.

Picking up the bag, I head back into my parent’s bedroom, making sure nothing was missed.

Nodding when I don’t see anything, I leave their room and double-check Cassidy’s. Again, the room is bare, and the closet is empty. Then I head to mine.

Only the furniture Mom set up is in there; there is no memorabilia in the room. I’ve checked the two storage closets and the attic. Several things that belonged to Dad, I packed them all and already took them to the storage unit while Mom was out somewhere with Andrea, most likely shopping for baby things.

“We’re having a baby, Perrie. You need to back off. Quit the diner and get out of his life. I won’t have my baby feel guilty for being born!”

I blink back the tears that want to fall, refusing to think about it again and again.

I’ve done that ever since Andrea showed up at my job, this time to gloat that Acid got her pregnant. She’s now roughly seven weeks along, and she and Mom have been shopping, buying a crib and clothes, and setting it all up in my old room like that would make me change my mind.

Mom tried to corner me two weeks ago and demanded I cancel the sale of the house, saying that Andrea needed her help. I threatened to call the police and request a restraining order if she didn’t get the fuck gone.

Shaking my head, trying to ignore the tearing of my cold heart at the thought of Andrea, my so-called friend, and Acid, the man I gave everything to, having a baby, and that he wasn’t even man enough to tell me himself.

However, what right do I have to know? I’m just the girl he was disgusted with after screwing on the diner counter, it’s not like he was my best friend or anything, right?

Slowly, I walk down the stairs, hearing my father’s laughter as I go, memories of him chasing me when I’d run away, not wanting a bath, to the times he’d hum as he’d carry me to bed when I’d fallen asleep.

My mother ruins my memories as she speaks, “I thought you cleared out all yours and Cassidy’s stuff, so what’s in the duffel bag?” she asks in confusion.

I roll my eyes at my mother before looking at her and reminding her, “I own all of Dad’s belongings; I’ve just gone through them." She narrows her eyes, but I ignore her and state, “You have three days to vacate the house.”

Andrea’s face goes red, and she stands. “Perrie, you’re just acting jealous and petty! This is Trudy’s home; you cannot sell it.”

I raise a brow at her and the choice of clothing for a so-called pregnant woman.

I swear the more time passes, the worse her dress sense has become. She’s wearing a dress so fricking short and low you nearly see her underwear and nipples. Not even the clubwhores dress like that.

I scoff at the bitch who, yet again, has decided to get involved, and sneer, “Actually, Andrea, I can sell it because I own it, and besides, it’s already sold.” Both their eyes widen. “And if you are still here in three days, then the new owners will have you arrested for trespassing.” I look at my mother next. “This stopped being your home when you decided to have an affair then allow your lover’s daughter to become friends with me, knowing she was using me, always taking her side when you knew she was wrong every time.”

Mom’s tears fall, but I just shake my head at her, disgusted, before looking around the living area, ensuring I got everything. I notice my father’s gold watch on the mantelpiece and, ignoring Mom and Andrea, I walk over and grab it, placing it in the bag along with the photo of him sitting on the hood of the Mustang. Mom’s gasped, “Perrie, no,” just hitting my ears, but I continue to blank her out, before walking out of the house.

“Perrie, please. Your grandmother bought watch for your father when we got married. He left you everything else, please,” Mom tries as she follows me out of the house.

Oh, so she’s upset about the watch but not the photo.

Shocking…. Not.

I place the bag on the backseat of the Mustang before looking at her and reminding her, “And he left you nothing because he knew you had an affair. Why else do you think he stayed at the apartment above the gym? He couldn’t stand the sight of you.” I curl my lip at the woman who birthed me. “You don’t deserve anything of his, especially something you can sell.” I climb in the Mustang and continue, “I’ve emptied the safe but left your marriage certificate. Three days, Mom….”

I slam the door, ignoring her tears, which are all for the show, before starting the Mustang and spinning away.

I saw the hate in her eyes.

She hates that Dad left her nothing and she didn’t think to put her name on things, and that she signed a prenuptial agreement. She hates that she got caught before he died, but I don’t think she realized that Dad never had a different will; everything was still going to be left to Cassidy and me.

Besides, it’s not like she doesn’t have anything.

The documents in the safe from the private investigator showed Andrea’s dad has been giving Mom money for years. It’s how she’s afforded all her shopping sprees and hair appointments.

She didn’t work part-time in a school like we all thought.

This is why Andrea has been trying to get her to go back to her dad. Her Mom left when she found out about the affair and now her dad ignores her.

She’s stupid if she thinks Mom will bring her father home more. He’s been throwing money at her for years despite her not opening her legs, but I guess that’s because Andrea’s dad's a flipping politician, and mom has been threatening to go public about their affair.

Shocking, right?

Andrea’s got what she wants now, though, huh? With no house, Mom’s going to go running to her dad, while she can grin and enjoy carrying Acid’s baby, taking every bit of the life I wanted.

I catch hold of the punching bag a few hours later, my knuckles bleeding and tears streaming down my face.

My body is sweaty, and my breathing labored but I don’t care. Everything is getting too much.

The rape, Cassidy, Acid, mom, Andrea…. Dad.

What have I got going for me? I have nothing….

My skin itches and I curse that my mood is spiraling quickly.

Taking deep breaths, I push off the bag and jump out of the ring, ready to get my phone and call Viking to let him know I’ll fight tonight despite Austin being the main contender.

I need to release this pain, and what better way than beating the crap out of one of your rapists?

They haven’t gone near me since I stabbed them, and I swore never to lay eyes on them again, but I need this before my mind turns dark. Again.

My legs burn, the scars itching, but I ignore them as I reach the reception desk just as my phone rings. I frown and look at the ID to see it's Piston.

“Hello?” I answer, and Piston's heavy breathing echoes in my ear before he rasps, “Natalie’s in the hospital….”

My heart stops and, without asking any questions, I end the call and run for the door.

Twenty minutes later, no thanks to New York traffic, I’m rushing into the waiting room where the nurse directed me, tears stinging my eyes, panic hitting my chest for my friend, my only real friend.

I notice Piston sitting on a chair, his head in his hands, and I suck in a breath at his wet clothes.

Oh God, what happened….

“Pez….”

I look to my left to see Steal, his face pale. I ignore him, like I have since my sister ran, and look back at Piston, whose eyes now lock with mine. His face is teary, and I run to him, ignoring Acid.

Piston stands when I’m close, and instantly, I’m in his arms, my head on his wet chest.

“What happened?” I ask with a whisper, and his hold tightens.

“S-She was-was ran off the road, then dragged outta her car. We chased them, and she was thrown off Brooklyn Bridge,” he stutters, and my tears fall as I hold him tighter.

“She’ll be okay, she has to be, she’s finally giving you a chance,” I murmur and his arms tighten around me, and everything in me breaks for this man.

Last year, he was screaming in his wife’s face at the diner, accusing her of trying to get pregnant, telling everyone who would listen that she’s trying to trap him again, that she wanted a baby and yet, here he is, after finally realizing that wasn’t the case, that he loved her, breaking because he could lose her.

We stand like this for a few minutes before the door to the waiting room opens and I freeze, my eyes widening, my legs going weak at the person standing there.

Piston holds me up as I give him my weight, kissing my head as I look at my big sister wearing a white coat over her scrubs.

She’s here, she’s really here….

Without thinking, I leave Piston’s embrace and walk over to her. Cassidy’s tears fall, her hazel eyes staying on me and, as if I’m on autopilot, I lift my right hand and swing.

The room is silent; you can hear a pin drop.

Holding her cheek, Cassidy nods, then grabs me in her embrace, and my tears fall fast and hard as my big sister holds me so tight I can’t breathe, but I don’t complain. Instead, I sob, all the pain spilling out.

She’s back, I’m no longer alone….