Page 82 of Mending Scars

Bryce clamped his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries. I bit down on his hand as hard as I could, causing him to pull his hand back and drop me. “You bitch!”

I fell to the floor and winced from the resulting pain. I glanced around, trying to take in my surroundings.

Shit.

I was in Bryce’s apartment.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bryce lunging toward me, so I turned on my side and kicked out, narrowly missing his knee and hitting his shin instead.

Get up. You can’t let him pin you on the ground.

I rolled to the side and awkwardly stumbled to get up. I definitely wasn’t as graceful as I used to be before I was pregnant. I got in my defensive stance as Bryce came at me again.

My techniques were limited since I was so large, and it was difficult for me to move fluidly like I needed to. I couldn’t kick as well anymore, so I had to rely on my punching and hand techniques, which weren’t my strong suit. I was at a huge disadvantage, but I wasn’t going to give up. I had to protect my son.

Bryce threw punches as he advanced toward me. I backed up and blocked with my forearms, forgetting every thought except one:

Don’t let him hit your stomach.

I kept retreating down the hallway as he advanced, blocking most of his punches, but not all. I was used to taking hits from all the sparring I had done, but each time he connected, the impact weakened me.

I backed through a doorway, then looked around to see where I was—Bryce had forced me into his bedroom.

Fuck, this isn’t good.

I threw a palm strike toward his face, but he grabbed my wrist and jerked me forward. Wrenching my arm from his grasp, I stumbled backwards onto the bed.

I immediately sprung off and put my guard up. My eyes danced over Bryce as I tried to anticipate his movements.

In the brief time I had spent fighting him, I could already tell he preferred using his hands than kicking. Most men were like that, including Ryker, so I had experience against that style of fighting.

When I sparred Ryker, there was always one move that I got him with—a low high roundhouse attack. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do the high kick anymore because of how big and off-balance I was, but I could still throw the low one.

Snapping my leg out, I caught Bryce in the thigh, but the hit didn’t seem to faze him. He came in closer to me, causing panic to set in from his proximity. All I could think about was shielding my stomach from his hits.

I should’ve focused more on watching him and protecting my face. His hook caught me right on the jaw, causing fireworks to burst behind my eyelids before I crashed to the ground and darkness smothered me.

I threw back another shot as I sat at the bar with Drew. Slamming the glass on the counter, I loudly ordered, “Another!”

Drew shook his head at the bartender, then looked at me. “Are you all right, bro? Shouldn’t you be at home with Kaiya? The baby is due soon, right?”

Kaiya.

Hayden.

Home.

“Yeah. But I don’t even know if he’s mine,” I lied. Deep down, I knew Hayden was mine. I was letting my stupid insecurities get the best of me.

“What are you talking about?” Drew looked at me skeptically, raising an eyebrow in question.

A glass of water was pushed in front of me, but I didn’t take it. “They all cheat, you know. All of them.”

Drew scoffed. “Are you serious? You really think Kaiya would cheat on you? Haven’t you seen the way she looks at you? That girl has got it bad for you.”

I didn’t say anything for several seconds, trying to think of something to prove him wrong. My drunken mind came up with nothing. “I’m such an asshole.”

Standing up, I wobbled slightly as I pulled out my wallet. I threw forty bucks down on the bar and rushed toward the door.

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