Unknown (Hooked Book 3) (4 page)

The moment Ryan slipped outside the door, Malik snapped. “I take it this bullshit is your doing, Sam.”

“Your dumbass didn’t leave me any choice,” Sam said, sounding every bit as pissed as Malik felt. He couldn’t believe Sam had betrayed him by calling in Logan.

Logan closed the distance between them. Squatting in front of Malik, Logan checked Malik’s injuries. The way he searched Malik’s gaze made Malik wonder if he really still cared. Malik watched Logan, wishing he could touch him. He was tired and in pain. If Logan could just hold him, and make him forget any bullshit between them, Malik would be forever in his debt.

“Why did you do this, baby?” Logan asked, keeping his voice gentle. He sounded as if he feared if he ever began yelling, he’d never stop. Malik knew the feeling well. “You know the doctor said no gym time for a few days.”

“They don’t know me, darling,” Malik said, matching Logan’s tone. “I’m not one of the pussies they usually treat, and I have a match coming up. You know how important this is to me.”

The disappointment in Logan’s gaze was crippling. “Yeah, I know.” Malik didn’t understand how he was failing Logan, but it couldn’t have been more apparent that he’d done so again today. Logan glanced away as if he couldn’t stand another second of looking at Malik. “Let’s get your things.”

“On it,” Sam said behind him. He was gone and back again before Logan had Malik on his feet. He was ashamed of the way his stomach churned at the shift in gravity. Logan quietly thanked Sam and held Malik’s hand on the way to the car. Malik hated how much he loved feeling Logan’s palm pressed against his. Being anywhere near Logan was like living in hell.

It wasn’t until Logan had driven two miles that it struck Malik—Logan was always unnaturally quiet, but this silence was different. It was frightening. Malik’s discomfort showed itself in the void of all other sound.

“How pissed off are you?”

“I’m not,” Logan said, keeping his eyes locked on the road.

“Are we going back to your place?”

Logan shrugged. “What would be the point in that? It didn’t make a damn bit of difference last night.”

Malik silently noted Logan had a good point. Honestly, Malik didn’t know why he’d even asked. It simply seemed he should be trying to mollify Logan in some way. He’d never felt such a gulf between them. Logan was unreachable.

“I can’t believe Ryan hit on you, even after you told him we’re married.”

Logan still didn’t glance his way, but he did scoff. “He did no such thing.”

Malik snorted. “You’ve never noticed when people flirt or how they look at you.”

Logan’s shoulder lifted in a half shrug again. It couldn’t have been more apparent he didn’t care. “What difference does it make anyhow? I’m your soon-to-be ex-husband, remember?”

Logan said the words so calmly as if they were the truth. Malik ground his back teeth to keep from throwing up. He thought to say something cutting about how they finally needed to end this. The words wouldn’t come. He feared if he uttered the word “divorce”, he’d never, ever survive it. By the time Logan pulled into the driveway of what used to be their home, Malik had fallen into a pool of depression so deep he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to crawl out again. Maybe he should just lie down and give up. Sleeping forever sounded absolutely wonderful at the moment.

*

Logan hated seeing the house he’d shared with Malik. Just the sight of it taunted him with all he’d lost. All he’d thrown away. He tried keeping his eyes averted from the small redbrick home that had once been his dream come true. It was a ridiculous act of futility since he still needed to help Malik inside. Logan had truly hoped he could simply drop Malik at the curb, and watch as he went inside. Unfortunately, the instant Malik’s feet hit the pavement, he swayed, forcing Logan to race to his side. While grinding his back teeth, Logan let Malik lean on him as he helped him to the door. The man smelled like every good dream Logan ever had. The kind that had him waking up with tears on his cheeks when it turned out they weren’t real.

“Do you still have a key?” Malik asked, pulling Logan away from his fantasies.

“Yeah.”

“Do you mind opening the door? I don’t think I can tell the difference between my keys right now.”

Panic replaced Logan’s pain. “Should I take you back to the hospital instead?”

Malik snorted in way of answer.

The sound had Logan’s hackles up. “I’m being serious, Malik. You’re not allowed to fucking die. Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Malik eyed him in a way Logan hated—like he saw too much. “Why am I not allowed to die?”

Logan turned away and unlocked the door. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t supposed to care.

“I don’t understand you,” Malik muttered behind him as they cleared the front door. “For a soon-to-be ex-husband, you sure worry a lot over my health.”

Logan bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. “Stop calling me that.”

Malik pushed past him, heading for the couch. “What should I call you?” Malik asked as he eased down onto his back.

“
Yours
,” Logan’s mind screamed. To keep from saying it, Logan concentrated on snagging a blanket to toss over him. As he reached past Malik to grab the one folded up on the back of the couch, Malik snagged his wrist and tugged, unbalancing Logan. He’d never been any sort of match for Malik’s strength. He ended up sprawled across Malik’s chest.

They were eye to eye. Malik’s gorgeous amber gaze was hot and searching. “Answer the question, Logan. What should I call you?” As he asked the question, his palms ran up Logan’s arms before encircling Logan’s neck and holding him in place.

Logan’s pain betrayed him with Malik pressed against him. “Call me whatever you want—that asshole who ruined your life. Someone you used to know. Anything at all, just not that, okay?”

As if Malik could read Logan’s thoughts, Malik taunted him. “How about—mine?”

Flattening his hands against Malik’s chest, Logan pushed away and came to his feet. “I can’t be that either.” And it fucking hurt. The mere suggestion threatened to crush Logan’s heart and lungs.

Malik’s expression held so much pain, Logan wondered if he felt the same. “Why did you do this to us? To me? Why can’t you see you’re killing me?”

Logan’s temper snapped. It was exhausting as hell being the bad guy all the time. “Why can’t you see that you’re killing yourself?” He’d never yelled at Malik before. Not one single time. By Malik’s expression, he realized it too. Closing his eyes, Logan took a deep breath, desperately trying to put his emotions back inside a box. This was why he stayed away. No matter how he tried controlling his breathing or how high Logan counted, his anger wouldn’t abate. “I can’t do this.” Logan headed for the door.

Moving quicker than Logan had ever seen, Malik jumped into his path, blocking the exit. “No, goddamn it. I’m tired of this—of you running away. You love me. I can see and feel it, but for some reason you keep leaving me. I need to know why. For one fucking time in your life, you’re going to tell me the truth.”

He couldn’t. Malik was right. Logan loved him. He couldn’t steal Malik’s dreams or ask him to live without them. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” Malik argued, sounding every bit as aggravated as Logan felt. “Open your fucking mouth and say the words. Rip out my heart for the final time so I can finally let you go.”

A sad smile pulled at Logan’s lips even as his heart shredded. Maybe it was time for the truth. Maybe they should move on. “I think—one day—you’ll be the biggest name in boxing. That is, if you live long enough.”

Malik’s face screwed up in confusion. “What the fuck? Stop dodging. It’s time to talk about us, Logan. I need to talk about us.”

“This is about us. I’m the one who’s been patching you up in silence. Who will have to bury you when you finally succeed at killing yourself? Me. If you finally get your head beat until dementia sets in, who’ll take care of you? Me. When I promised to love you through sickness and health, I did it with the understanding that you’d at least try to stay with me. The thing is—you don’t love me as much as you want to win.”

“I love you more than anything,” Malik said, sounding furious and killing a piece of Logan’s soul.

Logan shook his head. “Not anything.” Logan looked away and swallowed. He should’ve said a lot of things a long time ago. Most of all, he should’ve let Malik go. “I’m sorry for being too weak to stay and nowhere near strong enough to let go.”

Without waiting for Malik’s response, Logan sidestepped him, and reached for the door. Malik hip-checked him, stopping Logan from leaving. There was a desperate glint in Malik’s eyes.

“Becoming champ is my dream, Logan. I can’t quit.”

The lump in Logan’s throat competed with the burning behind his eyes, threatening to humiliate him. “I know, baby. That’s why I could never ask you to stop. I love you too much to steal your dreams, but neither can I watch you die for them.” Because he was weak, Logan leaned in and touched his lips to Malik’s jaw. He knew Malik would never allow him another taste of his lips. Logan couldn’t walk away without kissing him one last time. The pain radiating from his chest and crippling his body threatened to take Logan’s knees out from underneath him. “Goddamn, I love you,” Logan whispered, incapable of not saying the words. “I wish I’d been enough for you.”

This time, Malik didn’t stop Logan from leaving.

Chapter 3

Everything felt off. Malik needed to be training, but fuck. Nothing fucking mattered any longer. Logan’s claims kept filling his head. Had he done this? Had he broken them with this sickness inside him? Sam worked on his delts, eyeing Malik as if he expected him to go down at any moment. Maybe Malik would, but not for the reasons Sam thought. Somehow, he’d pulled out the win on his match after the disastrous concussion, but there was no pride in his triumph. Everything that mattered was still gone. The hundredth time Sam glanced his way, Malik broke.

“I need someone to be honest with me.”

Sam set his weights aside and gave his attention over to Malik. “Then you’ve come to the right place. You know I’m always brutally honest. It’s part of my awesome charm.” Sam winked as he made the claim as if that loaned strength to his words.

Rather than stroking Sam’s massive ego, Malik jumped in with both feet. “Am I wasting my time?”

A line appeared between Sam’s brows. “With…”

Malik shrugged. “With this. With everything. And don’t blow smoke up my ass. I need the hard truth. It’s important. Will I always be some unknown boxer who wastes his life and loses everything of real value for a dream that never comes true? Am I good enough?”

Sam slowly nodded his understanding as he claimed a spot on a nearby weight bench. “You’re good enough. It’ll happen one of these days.”

Blowing out a sigh, Malik squared his shoulders. “Okay. Good. That’s what I needed to hear. I think.”

“But,” Sam added, taking the burst of wind from Malik’s sails. “You’re going at it too hard and fast.”

“Okay,” Malik said, claiming a spot on the weight bench across from Sam. He hoped he could be as open minded as he’d planned to be when he’d sought Sam’s opinion.

Sam pulled a face as if he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

Malik motioned for him to continue. “I’m listening.”

With a shrug, Sam gave in. “At some point, you’ve decided if you knock the biggest and baddest man out, then you’re golden. Shortcut to the top. Your reputation will be set and you won’t have to spend another minute proving yourself. But that’s not really how it works. You start small and work your way up. This throwing yourself against a brick wall is going to end up costing you way more than you’ll gain.” He spread his hand wide as if attempting to expound his point. “You’ve already lost Logan over it. I thought when he left you’d finally see that you need to switch tactics. But losing him only seemed to make you more determined to kill yourself.”

Great. Everyone in the world understood why Logan left except Malik. “I’m fairly certain Logan found someone he liked better.”

Sam snorted. “Are you insane? Not only is that boy over the fucking moon for you, I know for a fact he’s respected y’all’s wedding vows, even if you’re not together anymore.”

Malik’s eye roll was out of his control. “How could you possibly know that?”

Without batting an eye, Sam stole the air from Malik’s lungs. “Because we still talk. Every time you have a match, Logan calls to make sure you’re okay afterward. Just imagine if he went out and let someone beat him half to death every other weekend while you were forced to sit back and do nothing.” The muscles in Malik’s stomach clenched at the idea. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He’d kill anyone who dared lay a finger on Logan. Sam kept talking as if he hadn’t mentally punched Malik in the gut. “That’s what Logan does for you. He holds his tongue while you pretend as if he shouldn’t care if you get yourself killed. Maybe one of these days his whole world will stop revolving around you, but that day hasn’t come yet. Personally, I hope you get your shit together before that day comes around. It’d be a damn shame for you to lose him for good finally. For sure, no one else will love you as hard as he has.”

Malik wasn’t so sure that day hadn’t already come and gone. Logan had looked pretty damn done with Malik when he’d left Malik’s house for the final time three weeks ago. “I don’t know how to half-ass anything,” Malik admitted. “When I beefed up to move up a weight class, I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I needed to challenge myself. I also hoped to get to a place where Logan wouldn’t have to work. It was more than obvious he was travel weary, and it was getting harder and harder for him to find the time to go with me to each match once he took on that manager’s position at the restaurant.” Malik didn’t know where the confessions came from, but once the floodgates were open, he couldn’t stop. “I was trying so hard not to lose him that I lost him.”