Book 3: LOVING MY CUCKOO MAN

CAMERON

"Malcolm is on the phone," Gordon says, holding out the device at me.

This is not what I want to deal with right now, but obviously, Gordon isn't going to consider that. He's mad, they're all mad. Dante, Ollie, Serenity, Myles, and everyone on the team who are in my suite right now are on the edge after what happened.

Feeling the pressure and without a choice, I collect the mobile phone and stroll down to the balcony for some quiet.

"What the hell, son?" Malcolm says as I hum in the receiver to let him know I am listening. "Didn't I tell you to keep your temper in check before this? Didn't I tell you to learn to control?"

But I couldn't, so can we just get over it? It's done, we can't rewind time.

"There are things you can't just keep quiet about," I grumpily clarify to him.

"Do you know the punishment for this kind of barbaric behavior? The board could decide to rescind the biggest match of your career, you asshole," he spats.

My head horribly hurts, I can't deal with him right now.
"So are we going back home?" He can just be straightforward about it.

"Do not give me an attitude," he sternly warns. My eyes roll. "I was in a meeting vouching for your ass. It was almost impossible. You were lucky the governor of California weirdly called; he and his friends are looking forward to the fight."

"So it's a win? Why are you all riled up?" My eyes widen at the interesting information; I can bet it was Kaiser's doing. His way of somehow doing his job as he promised.

Not bad!

Malcolm scoffs, grappling with his patience. "The next time you pull something like this you might not be lucky. You will be traveling to your next destination for the tour. I don't want to hear Cameron is in a brawl because Amy was mentioned. The moment you let them know your weakness. They will come at you there. And how many people will you beat up because they mention her name?"

In the middle of his statement, my phone rings in my other hand and it's Mateo. Given my mind is carried away with concern about what is going on back home, as Malcolm finishes reprimanding me, I don't care to drag the conversation any longer. It is not that I agree with him, but I won't say more. I just heaved and told him I had to go.

Accepting Mateo's call immediately after Malcolm's call ended, with curiosity I ask before anything is said from his end, "Everything is going fine?"

"There was a man identified as Jake Jerkins; he took Miss Coleman, but we have it under control at this moment. She is right there with Adam, she's okay. The police are coming to get him."

My heart stops.

"Jake was in my house? And took Amy?" Speaking feels like the most painful thing to do as if there are spikes on my tongue all the way down my throat. The ground underneath me is twirling; I feel dizzy.

"No, it was at school. Miss Coleman left her class early before it ended," he explains.

"What-what the fuck is your use over there then?" I yell, rubbing my neck as the inside feels clogged.

He is quiet, not saying a thing. I can't believe such massive guys could be so worthless.

"What is happening?" Someone asks, and Dante appears, along with everyone who were in the living room.

"Call Alex immediately right now," I tell Mateo and end the call, dialing Amy's phone, but the three times I call, I am being sent to voicemail.

Fuck!

Anxious, I scroll to Layton's digits. Asshole, they couldn't keep a goddamn promise.

"Alex, get Amelia to our next destination," I tell the young man cluelessly watching me pacing the balcony, pulling on my hair, and rubbing my straggled-sensation neck.

"Whoa! What's going on?" Gordon asks, dumbfounded.

"We need to leave," I tell them, rushing past them to go get my things ready when the boys don't pick up the calls.

They probably know why I am calling. Fucking traitors. Making me feel so helpless and useless.

***

Gordon angrily vents throughout the whole-hour flight to Ireland in the private jet.

He says, "You should be getting ready for this fight, you should be resting not having a black eye," He also throws more from his row where he's sitting with some of the coaches, "He's jeopardizing his future. He doesn't listen, he thinks he can take it upon himself to handle this." Finally speaking to me when he adds, "You need to listen to guidance, you're fucking 20,"

"21 in March," I manage to derisively remark in between my anxiousness and restlessness to see Amy.

"Ooh, I see," he is fuming. "He thinks he's old enough or mentally pertinent to make decisions? How's that working out for you again?" He mocks.

"Do not shout at me," I yell louder than he did. If he wants madness, I know that path too. I do not need a fatherly scolding right now.

"I will shout at you as much as I want, Cam."

"I swear to god I will break his nose," I grumble under my breath, stretching my discomforted neck side to side in the confined space.

"Guys, let's calm down, please," Dante begs, "Cameron, please," he says next to me, patting my restless bouncing knee.

"Let's just touch down, unwind. Everyone is just in their emotions right now," Serenity says, and I look out through the window; we are high up in the sky.

When we landed at our destination, we were immediately transported to the hotel where we would be staying for two to three days, as Alex says. The promo is not until the day after tomorrow.

It was 10 pm when we arrived at the reception, the rooms were booked online so there isn't any process needed right now. I want to be alone after the long day, I say goodnight to everyone and let the bellhop lead me to my room.

Mateo had sent me a text that they had boarded an hour ago and would be here in twelve hours.

I could sleep if I want to, or more precisely if I have the emotional stability to. But I don't. I am edgy. I feel so confused, anguished, terrified, and frustrated. There is an insanity to not knowing anything and being left behind, mostly when Amy doesn't respond to my fifty messages.

All I do all night is drink the wine in ice that was in my room until I lose my sanity, and everything is swirling.