Fighting Silence (20 page)

“Well, okay, then.” Slate changed the subject as the women started giggling. “Caleb, this is Till Page. Till, Caleb Jones.”

“What’s up, man? I’ve heard good things about you.” He extended a hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Slate’s been telling me for years that you’re the next big—”

Slate cut him off. “All right. Let’s get out of here. Till, I need you in the ring with Derrick tonight. You both need a good workout, so make it happen.” He pulled a key chain out of his pocket. “You think you can lock up tonight?”

I looked down at a silver boxing glove.

“Those are yours. Don’t lose them.”

I blinked rapidly. It was just a key on a pretty sweet key chain, but it was so much more to me. As far as I knew, no one had keys to On The Ropes except for Slate. And the fact that he was giving me a set meant more than I would ever be able to explain.

I cleared my throat so I didn’t sound like a bitch getting all emotional. “Um . . . I get to keep them?”

“Yep. Go with Leo, and have him set up your code for the alarm.”

I get my own code for the alarm too?
Shit. I really was an emotional bitch.

A half hour later, the whole crew left. The gym quieted down, and I was finally allowed a few minutes to obsess about Eliza again.
Fuck.
She would have understood what those keys meant to me. She probably would have gotten all excited and jumped up and down, giving me an opportunity to watch her tits bounce.
Double fuck.

“Till!” Flint called from the ring, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You coming?”

“Shit. Sorry. Yeah, I’m coming.” I grabbed a set of pads and jogged over.

Distraction.
That was just what I needed.

Flint was killing it as Derrick Bailey came strutting into the gym. Why the hell he came to the gym in slacks and a pink button-down, I would never understand.

“Where’s Slate?” he asked from the corner.

“He took off. He had some friends come into town,” I answered absently as Flint’s gloves continued to pound out a rhythm. “He wants us to spar tonight. Go get warmed up.”

The bell rang, and I finally gave him my attention.

“Nah. I’ll work out on my own while I wait on him to get back. He’ll be back later, right?” he asked with his eyes glued to two of the rich girls who used the gym like a country club.

“Nope. I’m locking up tonight.”

His head snapped to mine. I fucking loved that feeling. He didn’t have keys—that much was certain.

“You?”

“Yep. Slate gave me a set of keys.” It was an obvious statement that had been implied with the whole “I’m locking up” thing, but I really just threw it out there to rub salt in the wound.

He slowly nodded as he stared at me. God, it felt good to be one up on that asshole.

“Get changed and warmed up. I’ll meet you in the ring in an hour. I’ve got to finish this up then switch over the towels.”

“You ever get sick of being the maid, Till?” He laughed as he said it. That was Bailey’s way—an insult laced by a laugh to mask it. His mouth painted the picture, but the words told the story.

“Sorry. I don’t have a rich daddy that I can leech off,” I shot back. No laugh. Just an evil glare. That was
my
way.

“Right. Well, how is your dad? He doing well in lockup?” He smiled.

My nostrils flared. I didn’t have a clue if Bailey knew anything about my father. It wasn’t like I ever spoke about him. But with that shit-eating grin chiseled on his asshole face, I knew that he had done some homework on me.

“Let’s finish.” Flint stepped in front of me, blocking my view. I tried to look around him, but Flint mirrored my every move. “Forget about it,” he urged quietly.

Yeah. I’d forget about it—until I stepped into the ring with that motherfucker. Sparring with Bailey suddenly sounded like a whole lot more fun.

An hour later, with my temper no less quelled, I headed for the ring.

“Go tell Bailey I’m ready for him!” I yelled to Flint, who was oddly not showered or changed yet.

“Nah. I’ll let you get him.” He smiled awkwardly.

“He’s doing it with that girl in the locker room,” Quarry announced as he took a bite from an apple.

“What?”

“You know,
doing it.
Like, having sex,” Quarry clarified as if that were the part I couldn’t understand.

Flint smacked him on the back of his head then nodded, letting me know that Quarry wasn’t wrong.

“Dumbass,” I cursed as I stormed into to the locker room.

The door to the massage room was shut, but even I could hear the moans echoing around. I slammed my fist against the door and heard a woman squeak in surprise.

“Let’s go, Bailey.” I was fucking pissed. Not because I really cared that he was fucking some sorority girl. But rather that he was doing it at the gym with several kids still milling around. Slate would destroy him if he found out.

“Give me a minute . . . Maybe five,” he called out, causing his girl to giggle. Within seconds, the moans started up again.

I was going to fucking kill him. Plain and simple. I stomped out of the locker room but only long enough to dig the keys out of my bag. With the flip of my wrist, I swung the door open to their not-so-private refuge.

“Son of a bitch!” Derrick cussed as the chick grabbed her shirt to cover her breasts.

“Get out!” I growled.

He didn’t budge, but the chick shimmied up her shorts as she scrambled past me. “Really?” he huffed, dragging his own pants up.

“There are fucking kids here. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Well, currently, blue balls. Thanks for that, dickhead. You think I can convince the other one to suck me off?” His eyes, tone, and face were stone-wall serious. So much so that I decided he had problems way bigger than me or even Slate.

Then he smirked.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I barked.

Reaching into his pants, he snapped a condom off. He made a less-than-half-assed effort to look for a trash can before dropping it on the floor. “Have housekeeping clean that up for me.” He laughed. “Oh wait . . . That’s you.”

I was honestly too stunned to react as he walked past me. Bailey was a fucking prick, but he didn’t have balls. And if he suddenly thought he was going to grow a pair, I was going to rip those fuckers off.

I spun around and grabbed his shirt, slingshotting him hard against the wall.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I roared into his face.

“Wow. That got your hackles raised.” He stood there grinning at me as if he didn’t have a fucking care in the world.

I couldn’t breathe without worrying about the myriad of somethings ever brewing in my head. Yet, even with my forearm across his throat, he grinned. It enraged me.

“You sorry sack of shit.” I shoved him harder, but the brick wall behind him failed to yield to my will.

I wanted to release the week’s worth of the hell I was living with onto his face. Hands, fists, hopes, dreams, fantasy, and—most of all—reality. I wanted to shatter it all—preferably over his skull. Just as I convinced myself that Slate would understand if I committed murder in his locker room, Flint came flying in between us.

“Stop.” He shoved me backwards.

I stumbled, but Bailey straightened his pansy shirt with a grin.

Like the fool he was, Bailey prodded, “What the fuck is your problem? Don’t act like you haven’t dipped in the On The Ropes waters. Oh that’s right. You’re too pussy-whipped by that poor artist chick. Eliza, right?”

The sound of her name rolling off his tongue was more than enough to secure my spot on death row. However, the bastard wasn’t done yet.

“Maybe I should see what she’s up to right now. I bet that tight little ass of hers could more than cure my blue balls.”

My brain exploded, shooting adrenaline directly into my veins.

“No!” Flint yelled as I dived past him, landing a hard fist to Bailey’s chin.

Finally, that fucking smile was wiped from his face.

Flint pushed and shoved between us, trying desperately to separate us. He was barely able to keeping us far enough apart to where we couldn’t land anything else.

“Stop! Calm down!” he barked into my face. “You’re both going to get booted from the gym.”

I couldn’t have given a damn about On The Ropes in that second though, but I did care about Eliza.

“Goddammit, Till. Stop. It’s not worth it.”

My body fought, but my judgment finally caught up. I stared savagely at Bailey as I allowed Flint to push me away.

“You stupid fuck,” Bailey cursed, rubbing his chin.

“Chill!” Flint pleaded, holding my eyes. “This is not the time or the place. Just let it go.”

I took a deep breath and tried to reel it in. The desperation in my brother’s eyes was the only thing that grounded me.

I begrudgingly started toward the door, but then I heard Bailey mumble words I couldn’t quite make out. Flint’s entire body went stiff beside me, physically revealing their severity. But before I could even ask what was said, Flint spun and, with one unexpected right, dropped Derrick Bailey to the ground.

Out. Cold.

“Holy fuck!” I grabbed Flint as he dived back in for seconds.

“Yeah. Say it again now, bitch!” Flint yelled over my shoulder as I shoved him out of the locker room.

A few of the guys lingered around the door, obviously listening.

“Jacob. Sam. Go check on Bailey,” I ordered as I dragged Flint up to the office.

He wasn’t fighting against me, but he was obviously fuming.

“What the fuck did he say?” I asked as soon as the door closed behind us.

“Nothing.” Flint flopped down into the chair. His legs and arms were noticeably shaking as the rush of adrenaline left him.

“Oh it was something if it set you off like that.”

“He’s just a dick. That’s all.” He looked up nervously. “Am I gonna get kicked out of the program?” Flint had recently turned sixteen. He was huge and would easily be bigger than I was in a few years, but he was still just a kid in a man’s body, who was worried about getting in trouble.

“Nah. I’ll talk to Slate. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

It seemed to be enough to ease him.

“So you’re really not gonna tell me what he said?” I asked him.

“Nope. You’d end up in jail. Just let it go.”

We both turned to look out the glass windows as Bailey made his walk of shame out of the gym. He didn’t say a word as he left, but his tail was firmly tucked between his legs. I found it especially gratifying when I saw his girl from earlier watching from the treadmill.

“Hey, we should celebrate. It’s not every day you get to knock out a big-time, professional boxer.” I looked over at Flint, who erupted in laughter.

IT HAD BEEN ALMOST TWO weeks since I’d shoved Till out of my front door. I hurt. I missed him. I missed the boys. I missed the everyday, routine life we had. It sucked. When I’d made the decision to slam that door, I’d had no idea that it would shatter
my
fantasy as well.

I’d tried to stay gone as much as possible during those weeks. I’d taken up studying at the college library and picked up every possible shift I could get at work. I just hadn’t been able to stay in that apartment. Life had gone on for my family upstairs. And every time I had been forced to listen to them talking or laughing, it’d shredded me.