Breaking the Rules by Ember Leigh

Author:Ember Leigh [Leigh, Ember]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-28T04:00:00+00:00

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After a few hours of catching up on shows and dozing off, Travis awoke with a start, hunger gnawing at his belly. He grappled for his phone. One p.m. Shit. He leaped to his feet to change clothes. He usually got there around noon so they could order takeout together.

He pulled on black sweats and slipped a light jacket over his T-shirt. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he hurried toward the subterranean parking garage, texting his mom he was on his way.

No response came. Odd. She was usually quick as a whip with her phone and liked to know exactly what was going on each time they planned a visit. In the dimly lit parking garage, the scent of fall was dry and sweet. His shiny black truck rumbled to life, and he peeled out, heading for his mom’s apartment a couple of miles away.

The day was gray and chilly, unseasonably cool for LA. He flipped on the heater and cranked some rock music as he drove, trying to zone out and not think about Amara and what he might say to her later when he got the courage to text her.

His mom lived in a newer condo complex, an upgrade she’d opted for a couple of years ago once Travis had offered to buy it for her. His UFC career had grossed a lot of cash, most of which he’d invested. But helping his mom get out of her old dingy box apartment, the place he’d been raised, was priority one when he hit financial stability.

He parked the car and hurried up to the third-floor condo, choosing the stairs instead of the elevator, one of his many sneaks during his day off. He turned the knob. Locked. He fished her house key from the mess on his key ring and unlocked it.

“Ma!” He pocketed his keys, shutting the door behind him. “It’s me.”

He waited for her telltale greeting: I’m in the kitchen, smoking, but don’t expect a ham. She was always in the kitchen because she always smoked, and it was the closest seat to a window.

No greeting. He furrowed his brow, heading into the depths of the condo toward the kitchen. Her purse and coat were tossed onto the couch, alongside a foreign coat. He knit his brow, pausing. Had she brought back someone? Did she have a new boyfriend?

Some laughter, the undertones of a voice. Or maybe two voices. He pushed through the swinging half-door into the kitchen.

His mom smiled up at him, eyes bright, her wispy blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. At her side, Amara smiled nervously his way. Relief bloomed in his chest.

“Oh.” Travis eased into the kitchen slowly, unsure how to respond. “Hey. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

He had encouraged Amara to visit his mom; he just hadn’t thought it would be on the same day he chose to visit her. Nervousness coated his insides. This was a strange blessing in disguise, if only he could look past the shock.

“My son!” His mom took a last drag at her cigarette and snubbed it in the ashtray on the table.

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