Seven Soulmates
I felt nervous when Boyd left. Ethan had given me permission to do anything I wanted with the other guys that were supposed to be my soulmates, but I didn’t know how he would react when he walked into the room. He had never really acted jealous, but he was awfully possessive of me. He even went as far as to tell me I belonged to him once, which was really hot in the moment. Regardless of what I felt with Boyd or how excited he made me, I didn’t want to lose Ethan. I heard the door open and he stepped into the room. I looked at him with an apprehensive stare, unsure what I should say.
“How was it?” He walked over and sat down next to me, letting his hand rest on my thigh.
“I’m afraid to tell you the truth.” I exhaled sharply and sat up. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me.” He shook his head back and forth. “A few years ago, yeah, I would have probably flipped the fuck out if someone even looked at a woman I was involved with. I don’t know how to explain it, Violet. It just feels like there is something right about this.”
“I like Boyd. He’s not the kind of guy I ever imagined being with, but there’s a connection there. I think I really may have more than one soulmate.” I reached out and touched Ethan’s arm. “Nobody will ever replace you, though—no matter how much I like them.”
“I think they’re going to be additions, not substitutions.” He smiled. “Do you want to meet the others or did Boyd wear you out?”
“I would like to meet the others, but I don’t think I’m up for it tonight. I’m emotionally spent.” I sighed and squeezed his hand. “Plus, I thought we were going on a date that would end with us in bed together.”
“I guess he didn’t wear you out, then.” Ethan chuckled. “We have a bedroom upstairs just for us. Let me talk with the rest of the guys and then we can start this over again tomorrow. One of the guys actually asked if he could take you on a date. How would you feel about that?”
“I’d be up for it.” I shrugged. “What’s his name?”
“Miguel.” Ethan slowly stood to his feet. “Apparently he used to be some sort of cage fighter.”
“Wow, maybe I didn’t get the roughest guy in the room the first time around.” I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
Chapter 9: Miguel
Eleven months ago
“My arm! That son of a bitch broke it in half!” I grimaced as one doctor held me down while another one tried to get a sedative into me.
“Hold still, Miguel. You’ll feel better once this kicks in.” The doctor took a deep breath and lunged at me with the needle.
I didn’t need to hear a diagnosis to know that my days in the cage were done. I knew it when the bastard I was fighting snapped my arm. It wasn’t the kind of injury someone could come back from. Fighting had been my life since the first day I started training. I liked the bare-knuckle underground where the money came quick when you won. I fought all kinds of guys in the cage. Some of them were professionals, some were amateurs, and then there was Ruckus. Ruckus was the king of the Sin City underground and the one man I never wanted to fight.
“Miguel, can you hear me?” I hear a woman’s voice and I parted my eyes.
“C
armella? Carmella, is that you?” I felt the drugs fighting against adrenaline as I tried to open my eyes, and when my vision focused, I realized it was a nurse calling my name instead of my sister.
“I’m sorry to wake you. I need to check your vitals and then I’ll get you another dose of morphine.” She leaned forward and adjusted my arm.
“Fuck, that hurts!” I grimaced as she touched my cast.
“The doctor wants to keep you here for a little bit. This was a pretty bad break and he’s worried that it won’t heal right if he doesn’t keep you sedated.” Her voice was soft—it really did remind me of Carmella.
I wasn’t ever going to hear Carmella’s voice again. She was dead. The realization hit me hard, just like it did every day that I woke up and remembered I wasn’t going to see her again. The worst part was that I killed her. It wasn’t intentional. I let greed get the best of me and when the guy who introduced me to the world of underground fighting asked for my help, I agreed—even if it meant I had to go toe-to-toe with Ruckus. I had a shotgun in my hand, begging him not to move, and when he did—I had no choice to fire. Ruckus threw Carmella in front of the blast, and I swore I would kill him with my own two hands.
I failed you, Carmella. I’m so fucking sorry.
Ruckus and I agreed to fight to the death. I thought I had him beat, but then he snapped my fucking arm. I wished he would have just killed me and put me out of my misery, but he left me there to suffer. It was going to be an eternal suffering without my twin sister, the one person I truly cared about. I had a lot of time to reflect on everything that transpired while I lay in the hospital bed nursing what was left of my broken body. I had let vengeance drive me to the edge of my own sanity and as much as I hated Ruckus for what he did, I knew it was my fault. He was fighting for the woman he loved. I would have probably done the same thing if I was in his shoes.
TWO MONTHS LATER
“You’re progressing very well.” The physical therapist took the weight from my hand and put it on the table beside my bed with a smile on her face. “As long as you don’t plan on punching anyone again, you’ll probably be able to have this cast off in a couple of months.”
“Thank god.” I leaned up on the table. “I’m getting tired of jacking off with my left hand.”
“Oh my.” She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You don’t have a girlfriend?”
“Surprising, right? I mean, look at me.” I smirked and blew her a kiss. “Want to come home with me and give me some personal therapy? I mean, if you’re not dating anyone.”