Fatal Knockout (Knockout Series Book 1) Page 13

  “Bentley, this is Mr. Zane Carter. Mr. Carter, meet Bentley,” Dr. Kessler introduces the two of them. Holy crap. Bentley’s donor is his biological father. “Hi, Bentley,” Zane waves. Bentley doesn’t respond because he’s watching his momma, who’s standing with her mouth agape, tears falling from her eyes, and cutting the circulation in my hand off. “What’s the matter, Momma?” She pulls her mouth to, shakes her head, and releases my tingling hand. She holds Zane’s gaze and tells Bentley, “Nothing, Bent. I’m fine. I’m just—I’m really happy to meet the man who is going to help you get better.” She wipes the tears away and angrily asks, “Dr. Kessler, did you know who his donor was the entire time?” Zane takes a step toward Bentley’s bed and Declan steps in front of him. “Get back,” Blaze warns. “He’s my—” Blaze jumps up from his seat. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” Blaze says through clenched teeth.

  “Uncle Blaze?”

  “Yeah, bud?”

  “Why is everybody mad?”

  “We aren’t mad, Bent. We’re surprised, that’s all.”

  “Yes, I knew. I also knew if I had told you before today, you would have let your personal feelings make your decisions. I made both of you a promise that I would do all I could to keep him alive,” he answers Keisha’s question. “But, if I had known your old wounds hadn’t healed, I would’ve never presented Mr. Carter’s request to meet Bentley. Mr. Carter, you can follow me.” Zane gazes back over to Keisha. “Is this what you want? You want to hurt me like I hurt you?” Blaze steps in front of his sister, blocking her from Zane’s view. “Get out,” Blaze spits. Worried that he’s going to lose his temper and reinjure himself, I walk over and stand between the two of them. “Madisyn, baby, stay out of this.”

  “Baby, look at me.” I glide my hands up the front of his shirt and rest them on his shoulders. Reluctantly, he tears his eyes from Zane’s and lowers them to mine. Without a word, we hold one another’s gaze until I feel his body relax. Then, I whisper, “Don’t do this.” His eyes water, but he doesn’t shed a tear. I tickle my fingers down his arms. When I reach his hands, I lift and place them on either side of my stomach. Our baby girl finds his hand and gives it a rub. “You feel her?” Excitedly, he grins and says, “I did.” I place one of my hands at the back of his head and urge his lips to mine. “We don’t need you hurting yourself. You only have twenty weeks to make a full recovery, and believe me, delivery day will be here before you know it.” He lifts his eyes and looks behind me. “If she wants to see you, that’s her choice. But, you will not use your words as a weapon to hurt her. Understand?” Zane must nod, because Blaze walks us to Bentley’s bed and I didn’t hear Zane say a word.

  Dr. Kessler clears his throat and waits for Keisha’s approval before he leaves. “He can stay,” she tells him. Dr. Kessler grins. “Good. Bentley, I’ll see you soon.” He closes the door behind him and everyone keeps their eyes on the two elephants in the room. “I’ve missed you,” he tells her. “You left me,” Keisha says angrily. He takes a step forward and she takes a step back. “No, I left the apartment. Not you. Keisha, I would’ve never left you.” He reaches out for her hand and she jerks it back. “I won’t do this in front of him.” Zane looks back at Bentley and notices he’s watching their every move. “But, you’ll do it? You’ll talk to me, alone?” She nods and whispers, “Yes, when I’m ready.” Zane shoves his hands into his front pockets and smiles, “Fair enough.”

  Everyone sits around and waits for the nurses to come get Bentley. The silence is awkward, to say the least. Bentley is napping. Dawson just stepped out to take a call. Colt is sitting on the floor working from his phone. Keisha and Zane can’t stop staring at each other, and Declan won’t stop boring holes into Zane for looking at her. And me, well, my stomach just released a vicious growl I know vibrated Blaze’s hands. “Want me to go and get you something to eat?” He isn’t taking to me, he’s talking to our daughter. “I’m sure she would love to eat anything that isn’t from the cafeteria.” He laughs. “Would she now?” I nod. “She would.” Blaze pushes my hair to the side and gives my neck a tender kiss. “What is she in the mood for?” He trails his nose up my neck and kisses my ear. My head falls back onto his chest and I softly moan. His mouth on my body sends my sex drive into overdrive. “She’d like coffee and chocolate ice cream, but I’ll take you.” His teeth tug lightly on my earlobe and he growls. “I’d be more than happy to deliver.” Keisha and Declan groan. “Stop, please,” Keisha shudders. “Thank you,” Declan mumbles. “Haters, both of you,” Blaze glares between them.

  Dawson comes back into the room, rubbing the back of his neck. “What’s wrong?” He looks between Blaze and I, and says, “That was our security team. It appears we had a breach in our system. Someone broke the box outside and cut the wires. The police are there and they’re asking that one of the owners come and fill out a report.” I check the clock and see Bentley has twenty minutes until his transplant begins. “Oh. Well, I can go with you,” I offer. Dawson checks the time for himself. “You should stay here, Mads. It’ll probably take the entire twenty minutes to get there with traffic.”

  “He’s right, baby. I can ride over with him. And, I can stop by Ben and Jerry’s and get our girl some ice cream while we’re out.” I tilt my head back and smile up at him “Are you sure?” He kisses the tip of my nose and says, “Abso-freakin-lutely.” Then, he nods his head towards Keisha and Zane and adds, “Besides, I could use the change in scenery.” He helps me to sit up and slips out from behind me. He takes both of my hands and pulls me to stand with him.

  His eyes bounce around my face just before he crashes his mouth to mine. “You comin’?” Dawson interrupts us. “I love you, so much, baby.” He lifts my shirt up over my stomach and rubs around it like a good luck charm. “And, I love you, Autumn Lynn.” Instantly, my heart melts. “Autumn?” He nods. “Autumn after your mom, and Lynn after mine. Autumn Lynn Benson. Do you like it?” My eyes fill with tears. “Baby, I don’t like it, I love it.” It’s absolutely perfect. Apparently, our baby girl loves it, too. Because when Blaze calls her by name, she finds her daddy’s hand and pushes against it.

  Nineteen

  Madisyn

  “Blaze, where are you? Why aren’t you or Dawson answering my calls? Please, call me as soon as you get my messages. I’m worried about you.” This is the eighth message I’ve left both him and Dawson. I can’t remember a single time in ten years when Blaze has let my call go to voicemail. And Dawson? Well, I’m used to getting his, but he always returns my calls. They’ve been gone for six freaking hours. Six! I’m no expert when it comes to filing police reports, but I’d bet money it doesn’t take anywhere near that long to fill one out.

  Declan is on the phone calling the last hospital in our area and Keisha is on the phone with the police department to see if they can give us any information. “Please tell me you’re kidding?” Keisha says into the phone. “Are you sure?” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Shit!” She slams her phone down. “What did they say?” She slouches back into the couch and looks up at the ceiling. “The police department said they didn’t receive a call to go out to the gym; not today, not last week, not even last month. They don’t have any reports filed under Dawson Maddin, Madisyn Maddin, Madisyn Benson, Blaze Benson, Maddin’s MMA—nothing.” That can’t be true.

  “Anything?” I ask Declan as soon as he ends his call. “Nothing.” I pace the floor at the foot of Bentley’s hospital bed. “I’ve got a bad feeling in my stomach. There’s something wrong, Dec. Blaze would never worry me like this.” Declan gets up and stands in front of me. His hands hold my arms and he looks down into my eyes. “I know you’re scared, but you have to calm down. I don’t know what in the hell those two are doing, but I’m going to find them. And when I do, I beating the living shi—”

  Suddenly, we hear a bang against the door. “Madisyn,” Dawson cries my name as he stumbles through the door. “Oh, my, God!” I scream, seeing my brother’s bruised and b
eaten face. “What happened to you?” Declan ask, helping him stand up from the floor. I look behind him for Blaze, but he isn’t in tow. “Dawson, where’s Blaze?” My brother pushes Declan away, falls to his knees, and bawls, “I’m so sorry, Mads. I—”

  “Where is Blaze?” He drops his head into his hands. “Dammit, Dawson! Where is my husband?” I feel a sharp pang in my heart and I fall to my knees beside Dawson. I use my hands to lower his from his face. “Please, just tell me where he is,” I plead. “Madisyn,” Keisha gulps. I look up and see her looking towards the door. I follow her eyes to the officers standing in the doorway. “Mrs. Benson?” I nod. “We need you to follow us, please.”

  Dawson picks himself up off the floor and follows the officers along with me. We get into the elevators and take them all the way down. When the doors spread open, I step out and follow one of the officers down a hallway. I read the signs as we walk by and none of them are labeled as patient rooms. “Do you know where they’re taking us?” I ask Dawson. He drops his chin to his chest and points up to a sign above our heads. The morgue? “Why are we here?” Dawson doesn’t answer me. I push him. “Answer me, Dawson! Why are we at the morgue?” I shout. The officer grabs my wrists and holds them together. “Ma’am, please, we need you to calm down.”

  “You want me to calm down? Tell me why you brought me here.”?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a driver’s license. “Do you recognize this man?” My heart turns violently inside of my chest when he shows me the picture. “Yes, sir. Tha—that… that’s my husband,” I choke out, my throat feeling like its closing. He drops his head and takes in a few breaths. “Ma’am, your husband was found unresponsive late this afternoon. We found your husband’s wallet lying next to him. I’ll be honest and warn you, the man we have in there, his face isn’t identifiable. We need for you to identify the body. Maybe he has tattoos in certain areas, scars, or birthmarks… Can you do that for us?”

  “No. I can’t do it. I can’t.” Dawson reaches out and holds my arm. “I’ll go with you.” I slap his hand away. “Is it him, Dawson? Hum? Is it?” I scream. “I don’t know,” he yells at me. “I don’t know,” he repeats, his voice barely audible. “You were with him this morning and you don’t know where he is?” He shakes his head and wails, “They separated us, Mads. All I remember is being hit several times in the head and thrown in the back of a pickup truck.” I look at the officers and say, “I’ll go in there, but I can’t identify him. If—if it’s my husband, I can’t see him the way you’ve described him. I can’t,” I sob, my lungs feeling dry and on fire. “Ma’am, the body can’t be claimed if it isn’t identified. We need for you to—” Dawson cuts him off and croaks, “I’ll do it… I’ll do it.”

  My legs get weaker with each step I take. We pass by three body bags and come to a stop. “Mrs. Benson, this is Charlie, the hospital’s coroner.” I don’t say anything. I don’t want to know Charlie. I don’t want to be in this morgue. I don’t know how I should feel or how to act. “I’m here for you, Mads. Always,” Dawson tells me. “I can’t go through this again, Dawson,” I hiccup. The coroner goes for the zipper and I turn around. I close my eyes and drop my face into my hands. Please, God, don’t let it be Blaze. Please… Every hair on the back of my neck stands up as the coroner lowers the zipper. When the zipping sound comes to a stop, everyone remains quiet. I don’t like this kind of quiet, the kind that makes your ears ring. It’s painful. It makes me sick and uneasy. Please, please, please. God, don’t let it be him. “I can’t take it, Dawson. Is it Blaze or not?” Dawson steps in front of me, wraps his fingers around my wrists, and lowers my hands from my face. Tears fall from his bloodshot eyes, and he chokes out, “It’s him, Mads. It’s Blaze…”

  Fatal Captivity

  Book 2

  Coming October 2015

  Prologue

  Four months later…

  “Just breathe, Maddie. I know it hurts, but you have to breathe.” Really? Excruciating, stabbing pains are ripping throughout my core, not his. I tear my eyes from the florescent lights above and glare at him. “You don’t know anything, Declan.” Immediately, I notice my voice is harsher than intended, and I apologize. “I’m sorry. It’s just—it hurts, so bad,” I cry. He covers my forehead with a cool washcloth, winks, and says, “I forgive you.” He shouldn’t. This man has been by my side for six hours, doing everything in his power to try and keep me comfortable. He doesn’t have to be here, and yet, he is.

  “Thank yo—Agh!” I grip the bedrails, toss my head back, and do what everyone continues to tell me not to… I hold my breath. “Dangit, Madisyn! You can’t hold your breath the entire time. I know you’re just trying to fight through the pain, but you have to let oxygen into your lungs. You can do this,” Keisha says next to my ear. “I can’t,” I pant. “Yes, you can,” she argues. “Look at me.” I turn my head to the side and stare into her tear-filled eyes. “You are not a quitter. You can close your eyes, scream until you shatter every window in this hospital, and rip the bedrails off the sides of this bed. But, what you will not do is give up. If you don’t want to fight for yourself, fight for him.”

  “He left me,” I grunt, feeling an unfamiliar, vicious and agonizing twinge within my pelvis. My insides feel like they’re being wrenched from my body. The intensity of the pain causes me to become nauseous. My body locks up and an earthshaking scream pierces my ear. That scream came from me. I grab Declan’s hand and squeeze. “Please, Dec…” I breathe heavily as black and white floaters fill my vision. “Maddie?” he panics. “Madisyn, please… Open your eyes and talk to me,” he begs.

  I hear the door open and Keisha gasp, “Oh, my, God.” Then, I hear the voice I’ve longed to hear tell me, “Look at me, Madisyn. Open those beautiful eyes of yours and look at me.” Familiar hands hold the sides of my face and my body hums when his lips meet mine. I force my eyes open and I see him. “Blaze?” I gasp. He isn’t real. He can’t be. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here,” he chokes. No, he isn’t. I buried him months ago. My, God, I’m hallucinating. But then, our eyes lock and all external noises fade away. “You—you’re really here?” Tears roll down his face and onto mine. He lifts my hand up and holds it to the side of his face. Then, he kisses my palm and whispers, “Yes, I’m really here. I’m home, baby. I’m home.”

  Shattered & Shaken

  Book 1, chapter 1

  Chapter 1- Shaken

  Waking up to sore muscles and a tight chest, my body feels like it's been torn to pieces. My head hurts, my heart aches, and my soul is shattered. The sun is unwanted, shining bright into my eyes. The loud joyful chirping of birds infuriates me.

  Fighting against the sun, I force my eyes open and look at my surroundings, praying I'm lost in a nightmare. The events from this week remain fresh in my mind, and I'm having difficulty grasping the concept that Kyle's never coming home. The thought of never seeing him again is on the verge of being unbearable. Not only was he my brother, he was my best friend, my provider: my everything.

  How could he leave me? He had promised to come home safely; he promised to think of me and push through whatever came his way. He lied. I'm hurt, but I'm also livid that he could be so selfish. When Kyle decided to join the military, he didn't consider the emotional hell he'd inflict on Mom and I; he let our opinions go in one ear and out the other. Kyle was as stubborn as a mule, and once he had his mind set on something, he made it happen - no matter what the consequences were. Prime example, him joining the military. I pleaded for him to stay, but he didn't, and look what his stubbornness resulted in - death. Now he's gone and we have no one!

  Our father was diagnosed with stage-four lung cancer my junior year of high school, and Kyle's sophomore year of college. Dad's physician estimated he would live no more than six months, but he was a fighter and determined to prove them wrong. The cancer was so advanced the physicians were uncomfortable providing him with chemotherapy treatments. The doctors had explained that chemo wouldn't cure his cancer, but there w
as a possibility it could help prolong his life. Despite the physicians’ beliefs, dad decided to give chemo a try, but it made him deathly ill.

  After six months of treatment and a two-week hospital stay, he decided to let the cancer run its natural course. Dad thrived to live, but unfortunately, he died eighteen months later. Mom, Kyle, and I watched as dad withered away to nothing. The tall, dark, and handsome man I knew as the strongest man in the world had turned brittle and weak. His thick curly locks disappeared, his broad body frame became narrow, and his muscles deteriorated. As days passed and the cancer spread, dad's will to live diminished. We stood by him and held his hand as he struggled to take his last breath; it was the most painful experience I've ever encountered - until now.

  After our father's death, mom took on a second job to pay for his medical bills. It seems that insurance companies only want to provide their services to healthy patients. Get sick and they kick your ass off the policy faster than you can blink.

  Mom had to refinance the house and take out several high interest loans so that dad could receive his treatments, home health, and follow-up doctor visits, putting her eyeball deep in debt. She worked as a nurse for the local emergency room every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights. The other nights, she worked as a private nurse caring for patients with disabilities. Before our father became ill, Mom was gorgeous, sporting healthy long brown waves, glowing sun-kissed skin, vibrant green eyes, and a nice toned body. But depression set in, and with the stress of two jobs, mom's great looks and enthusiasm diminished. Her hair became brittle; her appetite vanished, and she lost an absurd amount of weight. Her cheeks sunk in, while her skin paled, and her eyes lost their shine. For an entire year, she neglected her health to mourn the loss of her one true love. Don't get me wrong, I mourned the loss of my father, but life moves on. Kyle mourned and moved on, but seeing Mom worn out and defeated made Kyle take matters into his own hands. After mom paid off the remaining portion of dad’s medical bills, she continued to both jobs. She claimed she enjoyed keeping herself busy, but Kyle and I knew the true reason mom continued to work so hard.