The Boxing Champion Called Me His Caregiver Chapter 04

The Boxing Champion Called Me His Caregiver Chapter 04

I limped into Havenport Sports Medicine Center on my swollen ankle and slid my government-issued photo ID across the front desk.

The nurse typed something into her computer.

Her expression changed at once.

She slid my ID back across the counter.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Monroe.”

“We can’t treat you here.”

I froze.

Blood from my scraped elbow had already stained half my sleeve.

The nurse looked at me without a trace of emotion.

Then she pressed the call button on her desk.

Two security guards arrived almost immediately.

They grabbed me by the arms.

They forcibly dragged me out of the emergency room.

I sank down beside a flower bed.

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and called Logan.

The line rang for a long time.

Finally…

“Hello?”

It wasn’t Logan.

It was Alyssa.

She had me on speakerphone.

I could hear reporters talking in the background.

“Tessa.”

She deliberately raised her voice.

Loud enough for everyone around her to hear.

“You know I’m Logan’s wife.”

“So why do you keep calling to harass him?”

My grip tightened until my knuckles turned white.

“I was the one who stayed by his side for the past eight years.”

The words scraped their way out of my throat.

“I sold my childhood home.”

“I worked as a hotel housekeeper for eight years.”

“So now…”

I swallowed hard.

“…I can’t even call him when I’m hurt?”

Silence.

For one long moment.

Then Logan’s weary voice came through.

“Just hang up.”

“Stop fighting with her over this.”

He never asked how badly I was hurt.

Not once.

“You don’t need to stoop to her level.”

“Teach her a lesson.”

“Maybe then she’ll learn.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the black screen.

A laugh almost escaped me.

So this…

was all eight years were worth.

I dragged myself back to my apartment on my injured leg.

The elevator doors opened.

My clothes.

My books.

Everything I owned had been dumped all over the hallway.

The landlord stood outside my apartment holding the new lock he had just installed.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I didn’t have a choice, Ms. Monroe.”

He pointed at the mess.

“I’ll return your security deposit.”

“You need to take your things and go.”

I looked toward the overflowing trash bin.

Inside were the rehabilitation journals I’d spent countless nights writing.

My original rehabilitation plans.

Cut to pieces.

My hand went still.

Then I looked away.

The elevator chimed again.

Logan rushed out, out of breath.

His eyes landed on the wrecked hallway.

Then on the blood running down my arm.

His brows drew together.

He pulled out a prepaid debit card and held it out to me.

“Tess.”

“Can you stop making a scene?”

Exhaustion.

Impatience.

That was all I heard.

“After the exhibition bout, I’ll find you another place.”

“Consider the money on this card compensation.”

I didn’t take it.

Instead, I looked him straight in the eyes.

“You have a legal wife.”

“And you still expected me to stay beside you.”

“What exactly was I to you, Logan?”

The color drained from his face.

He looked away.

“I told you.”

“I’ll explain everything after the exhibition.”

“Can’t you just be reasonable for once?”

He checked his watch.

“Damn.”

“I’m going to miss my flight.”

“Find a hotel and stay there for now.”

He stepped back into the elevator.

The doors closed.

He never looked back.

That night, in a rundown budget motel, I received a police summons.

Someone had filed a report.

They had submitted a doctored recording that made it sound as though I had tried to extort Logan.

The prepaid debit card Logan had offered me became the key piece of evidence.

I was taken into custody.

…

Seven days later, Logan returned from his overseas exhibition in triumph.

He called Tess.

Her phone was unreachable.

He sent her a message.

No response.

He rushed to the childhood home.

The brass key he’d given her was sitting inside the mailbox.

Untouched.

Someone finally told him that Tess had been taken into custody.

He drove straight to the Havenport Police Department.

An officer placed the prepaid debit card in front of him.

“Ms. Monroe posted bail.”

“SHE LEFT RIGHT AFTER THAT.”