Last Chance To Fight by Ava Ashley Page A

than a month and had no idea that he was only using me to get back at Hunter. I’d proven in the past that I was a terrible judge of character. Just because I thought Hunter was trustworthy, didn’t mean he really was.
    Not only that, but why was he always going off to San Diego “to take care of some business”? What kind of business did he have there, when his coach and his gym were here, in L.A.? What kind of business couldn’t he even tell me about? Could it be possible he was going there to spend time with his wife ?
    My stomach was starting to hurt. I decided I had to at least see what was on the videotape. Maybe it would be an obvious fraud, and then I could relax. I popped it into the player and turned on the television. And then I immediately regretted it.
    There, grainy but unmistakable, was Hunter, naked and on top of some blond woman. She was moaning in pleasure, and calling out his name as he pulled in and out of her. I guessed that must be his wife. I quickly got up and turned the television off. If I thought I was going to be sick before, now I really thought so. I rushed into the bathroom and retched.
    I was too upset and stunned to even cry, and I certainly lost any thought I’d had of making dinner. I didn’t think I’d have my appetite back for a while. I grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet and opened it. I wasn’t going to even bother with a glass. I went to my bedroom, crawled into my bed, and pulled the covers all the way up to my chin. I started to sip on my bottle of wine, hoping that at least it would make the terrible ache in my stomach go away.
    I must have fallen asleep eventually, because suddenly I was bolted awake by a frantic knocking at the front door. I jumped out of bed, terrified.
    What the hell?
    I hoped it wasn’t Nate, but just in case it was, I crept downstairs as quietly as possible, without turning on any lights. As I got closer to the door though, I could hear that it wasn’t Nate at all.
    “Hello! Hello!” I heard Hunter shouting. “Anna, are you home?”
    I turned on the lights and unlocked the door. I took a deep breath and opened it. Hunter let out a huge sigh of relief.
    “Oh, thank God. I was so worried, you weren’t answering your phone,” he said. “And I knew you were staying here, so I thought maybe that piece of shit Nathaniel—”
    “No, sorry,” I said, interrupting him. “I must have just fallen asleep.”
    “What’s wrong?” he asked, sensing my sour mood. I took a deep breath. There was no reason not to just come right out and say what was on my mind, though I wasn’t really sure I wanted to hear his answer.
    “Are you married, Hunter?” I asked. He was silent for a moment.
    “I’ll take that as a yes,” I said, and started to close the door.
    “No! Anna, no, please let me explain,” he pleaded. “Can I come in?”
    “I guess so,” I said.
    “Before I tell you, could you tell me what’s going on? Why are you asking if I’m married?”
    “Sure, I’ll tell you. Nate gave me this,” I said, ejecting the video from the VCR. “It is a wonderful film about you fucking some woman who, apparently, is your wife.”
    “Oh, man,” he said, looking at it. “I’m so sorry Anna.”
    “So is she your wife, or isn’t she?” I demanded.
    “Technically, we are married,” he said, and I flopped down on the couch, not sure my legs would be able to hold me up. How could this be happening?
    “What do you mean, technically?” I asked.
    “I mean, we have an official document that says we are husband and wife,” he said. “But it ends there. We don’t have a relationship. That tape was made at least two years ago.”
    “So why are you still married? Why were you married at all?”
    Hunter sighed and sat down.
    “She’s a nice girl,” he said. “But we were never serious. Her parents are insanely religious, and they found out about us. They pressured us into getting married, and I went along with it because I didn’t want to