Fighting Silence

by Aly Martinez

  “No!” Eliza and Flint screamed in unison.

  “What did you do!” he barked into my ear so loudly that it temporarily deafened me more than I already was.

  “Stop!” Eliza cried just as I saw Flint appear beside Slate.

  “Slate, no. Derrick did that to Eliza. Till came down and did that to Derrick.”

  “It’s true, I swear,” Eliza confirmed.

  It must have been enough to convince him of my quasi innocence because I was freed. She quickly moved to my side, wincing as I pulled her close.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” Slate breathed, reaching forward to grab Eliza’s chin and inspect her face. “Flint,” he called out without dragging his eyes off her. “Go upstairs and ask Erica to come down here. Then get on the phone with nine-one-one and tell them we need an ambulance.”

  “Yes, sir,” Flint answered as he headed out the door.

  “You all right, hun?” Slate asked with a forced but gentle grin.

  “I, um, think so,” Eliza squeaked out, moving even closer to me.

  “Good.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Q called. Said something was going down and he was worried. Erica and I were just leaving the gym, so we hauled ass over here. I have to be honest. I was not expecting this.” He waved his hands around the room.

  “Yeah. Neither was I,” I scoffed, but it was only to cover the emotions packed into the memories of the moment I’d rushed through that door.

  “Oh my God!” Erica gasped as she walked into the apartment. Her eyes were glued to Derrick on the floor, but as she lifted her gaze, I saw the exact second in which she saw Eliza. She slapped her hands over her mouth and her eyes jumped to Slate.

  He tilted his head to Derrick and walked over, stopping in front of her. “You gonna be okay with this?” He tucked her shoulder-length, blond hair behind her ears.

  She stared up at him for a brief second before clearing her throat and nodding.

  “Of course you are,” he mumbled, kissing her forehead. “I think she’s all right, but can you make sure that one isn’t dying. The ambulance is on its way.”

  “Yeah, sure,” she answered nervously before lifting her eyes back to Eliza. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so.” Eliza looked down, embarrassed, and it made me want to kill Derrick all over again.

  “You mind if I talk to Till for a minute in the hall?” Slate asked, and her whole body tensed.

  “Um . . .” She squeezed me even tighter as her eyes drifted down to Derrick, who was still laid out on the floor. It appeared he was finally starting to come around.

  Slate must have caught her pointed glance, because he called over his shoulder, “Johnson.”

  “What’s up?” The scary beast of a man came walking inside.

  “I trust that man with my life. He follows Erica everywhere,” Slate told Eliza. “She hates it, but it makes me feel better. He won’t let anything happen. I swear.” He smiled genuinely, but it did nothing to soothe Eliza.

  “Can I . . . um, just go up to your apartment and maybe clean up?” she asked, tilting her head back to look up at me.

  “Yeah, baby. Of course. Come back down whenever you’re ready.” I kissed the top of her head, and her shoulders relaxed.

  The three of us walked out the door, and Eliza continued past us up the stairs.

  Then the sounds of sirens rang through the night.

  “All right. You have about sixty seconds before the cops show up. What exactly happened?” Slate leaned around me to look toward the parking lot.

  “I walked in. Found Derrick straddling Flint. Knocked him off. Then I saw Eliza. Lost my fucking mind. The end.” I pushed a hand through my hair, becoming enraged all over again.

  “Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “Did he fight back?”

  “Yep.”

  The screaming sirens neared.

  “He didn’t land anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I’m gonna be real honest here, son. I’m not sure the cops are going to feel this was self-defense when he looks like that . . . and you don’t have a single mark.”

  “I know.” I shrugged. . “Slate, I’m okay with anything the law wants to say about this. I know I did the right thing. No amount of probation in the world could teach that asshole the lesson I just gave him.”

  “I happen to agree with you.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Heads up. Incoming.” He nodded his chin toward the breezeway.

  I steeled myself for an onslaught of uniforms. Just as I turned my head to look in that direction, a hard fist slammed into my eye and forced me back a step. Before I could even bring my hands up to cover my face, I was popped squarely in the mouth.

  “Son of a bitch!” I rocked to the balls of my feet and defensively lifted my hands, readying myself for the next blow.

  “Well, look at that! Derrick did fight back.” Slate smiled while shaking his hand out.

  “Jesus Christ. What the fuck?” I dabbed my mouth to find blood seeping from my lips.

  “He looks like fucking hell, but if he’d touched Erica, I wouldn’t have stopped until his sorry ass was loaded into a coffin. You did good, Till.” He reached forward to squeeze my shoulder, and I instinctively flinched, causing him to laugh. “Go get your woman. The police are going to want to talk to her, too. They’ll be here any second.” He paused to point to my eye. “Don’t ice that shit either. Make it look good.”

  “Yeah. Thanks,” I said sarcastically while dabbing my swelling face.

  “Hey, remind me we need to work on your reflexes. I clearly said, ‘Incoming’,” he joked, walking backwards into the apartment.

  I couldn’t help but a laugh as my shoulders fell. It felt so fucking good to know that he had my back.

  “I swear to fucking God,” I snarled as I stomped a pattern around Eliza’s hospital room. She had just been wheeled out, but my anger and anxiety filled the room in her absence.

  “Calm. Down,” Slate said from the doorway. “It’s no big deal. Derrick’s daddy is loaded. It’s not as bad as it seems. I’ll get it back.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, get your shit together and remember who the hell you are talking to.”

  Eliza didn’t have insurance, and she had freaked when the doctor told her that he wanted to run a CAT scan because of the trauma to her face and head. She’d flat-out refused, spouting off some crap about not going into debt by racking up a huge hospital bill she’d eventually have to pay. She’d sworn she was okay, but I’d absolutely not been anything even resembling okay.

  So I’d lost it. I’d snapped at her like a fucking asshole. Then I’d shouted at the doctor for reasons that didn’t even make sense. In turn, he threatened to call security, which only pissed me off more. It was a clusterfuck in that room until Slate came in and physically pinned me against the wall. While I was trying to get my shit under control, Erica was apparently informing administration that she and Slate would be financially responsible for Eliza’s hospital visit. While I was relieved as they wheeled her out of the room, I was sick and fucking tired of feeling like a broke-ass, worthless dick all the time. As it often was, my anger was aimed in the wrong place, and Slate was the only man in the room.

  “Get my shit together?” My heart pounded in my chest, and every muscle in my body strained under the mounting stress. “I’d like to see how the hell you’d react if Erica looked like that and there wasn’t a fucking thing in the world you could do to help her.”

  Slate’s eyes turned dark as his jaw clenched. “It was different. But I’ve been there,” he stated matter-of-factly. “It was the worst day of my life. I wasn’t even the one who got to make the piece of shit pay either. But honestly, Till, sometimes you have to accept that it’s not the way things get done or who does them. As long as, in the end, they are done. She’s getting that CAT scan right now, and you can sleep easy tonight knowing that she’s okay. It doesn’t matter one bit
who signs the check that pays for that kind of peace of mind.”

  “It matters to me. You have no fucking idea how it feels to be so goddamn helpless all the time. I can’t do this anymore. I’ve only truly had her for less then twenty-four hours and I’ve already failed to fucking protecting her and provide for her. My boxing trainer had to pay for her medical bills. It’s embarrassing!”

  “It’s only embarrassing if you let it be.” He shrugged and settled into the chair next to the door.

  I continued to pace. I couldn’t get over the heavy weight of failure compressing my chest. “Why the fuck would she want to settle for someone like me? I failed out of high school. I work sixty-three hours a week for minimum wage so that I can barely pay the bills on a shithole apartment. For fuck’s sake, I have two brothers I want to give the world, but last week, she had to buy us groceries. Oh, and there is always that fun fact that I’m going deaf. One day, she really will have to take care of me! I can’t handle knowing that she has to settle for a future filled with struggles in order to be with me. I love her. I really fucking do. But at what point do I let her go because I know she’d have a better life with someone else?” I finished my rant on a yell.

  “Wow. You have a really gone off the deep end. She’s not some puppy you can find a better home for.” He stretched his legs out and crossed them at his ankles.

  If possible, it managed to piss me off more. I was in emotional upheaval and he was getting comfortable.

  “Just leave me alone. I can’t deal with your shit right now.”

  “You want to go pro?” he asked randomly.

  “What I want is for you to leave.”

  “Is that a no?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I seem to have an opening now that someone nearly killed my bum.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Nothing has changed. I still don’t have the time. Honestly, I think I need to give up boxing altogether. Maybe try to find another job or something.”

  “I’ll bankroll eight hundred a week. Quit your jobs and come work for me in the ring. It comes with health insurance for you and the boys too.”

  I stared at him, awestruck. That was double what I was bringing home each week.

  I’d always heard that you couldn’t judge a man’s character by the balance in his bank account. Thank fuck for that because character might be the only place I wasn’t overdrawn. And right then, Slate’s offer sounded a whole lot like pity. No matter how appealing it sounded, I wanted to make it without having to rely on anyone else. I couldn’t afford to sacrifice character.

  “Why are you doing this right now? What part of that conversation confused you? I don’t want your charity.”

  “It’s not charity. I’m gonna make a shit-ton of money off your ass. This isn’t a free ride. I’ll get all of your winnings until you’ve paid me back. Then anything you make over that, I get thirty-three percent. Erica’s been eyeing this condo on the beach in Florida. I’m hoping you can help me out and buy that for her.”

  Outstanding. Slate wants to buy a condo on the beach and I just want to keep the electricity on.

  “It has to be hard being you.” My voice dripped with sarcasm, but it only made Slate smile.

  “I guess you won’t know until you try. I made every single penny I have from boxing. If you think money will solve all your problems, then put whatever preconceived notions you have about my motives aside and take my offer. But if you decide to refuse, you should know I won’t make it again.”

  “Why now? Less than a month ago, you told me I wasn’t ready. Where was your offer to bankroll me then?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you. You’re not ready. Not if you want to be great! But with enough time, I can get you there. You’re raw right now, and despite whatever you think, you’re driven by something greater than the almighty dollar or dreams of stardom.” He stood up and walked over to me. “To answer your question about why now, I was wrong. You’re not hungry for more in life. You’re fucking starving. I can work with that.

  “Did you even listen to yourself while you were talking? Not one single thing you said was because Till Page wanted more money or a nicer car. You were concerned about Eliza and the boys . . . but never Till.” He poked my chest right over my heart. “I’m making an investment in you, Till. It’s no handout. I believe you’re going to set the boxing world on fire, because every time you put on those gloves, you’re doing it for them. Say yes. Accept the offer. Quit your jobs. Take a week off to take care of her. Then get your ass in my ring.”

  I had no words. If I spoke, I was going to look like a sniffling little bitch. So I nodded instead.

  “Good. I’m going to find Erica and get some coffee. I’ll send over the contracts and your first paycheck in the morning.” He turned and headed for the door.

  I stood in the middle of an empty hospital room where my fantasy and reality had collided. Finally, I had the break I had dreamed of, but it had taken almost losing Eliza to get it. I would forever remember the way I felt in that moment. Cracking my neck and shaking out my arms, I decided I was done letting the world run over me.

  Slate had just handed me my one chance to make a better life, and I was going in with gloves blazing. For the first time in my fucking life, I was climbing through the ropes.

  ONE CONCUSSION, TWO BROKEN RIBS, two black eyes, six stitches, and far too many purple bruises to count. But as I pulled an oversized On The Ropes T-shirt over my head and settled into Till’s bed, I was more concerned about him.

  “You okay?” I asked as he folded into bed next to me.

  His head snapped to mine. “Uhhh, are you okay? Why are you asking about me?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been a crazy night.”

  “It really has.” He sighed and pulled me into his side.

  I winced from the movement. “And you’ve been acting weird.”

  “Huh?” He leaned away to look down at my mouth.

  Till had been hard of hearing for years. Huh and what were probably two of his most used word. Well, those and fuck—and maybe Doodle. But tonight had been vastly different. Several times, I’d spoken to him at the hospital and he hadn’t even acknowledged me. I’d prayed that he had only been lost in his thoughts, distracted by the entire fucked-up day. But I knew it my heart it was more.

  So, instead of repeating my vague statement, I blurted, “Where were you tonight?”

  It wasn’t an accusation, but even as it left my lips, it felt that way.

  “Asleep. Shit, Doodle. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “Eliza,” I corrected just to be positive we were in my reality and not his.

  His lip twitched. “It’s just habit. Doodle or Eliza—it doesn’t change anything.”

  I nodded, still not convinced.

  “I have no fucking idea how I didn’t hear that shit in your bedroom. I wish you could have called my name or something. I’m so sorry I didn’t get there sooner.” His muscles tensed, and I blankly stared at him.

  I was struck by the realization that Till had no idea what had really happened in my bedroom. He thought he’d slept through it, and the guilt on his face was staggering. There was no way in hell I was telling him that I’d screamed for him repeatedly or that I’d prayed his name over God’s as I’d roused back to consciousness. He didn’t need to know that. Ever.

  “You got there. That’s all that mattered.” I plastered on a fake smile that hurt my lips.

  Only two nights earlier, Till had said, “Bless you,” when I’d sneezed. There was no possible way he could have slept through my cries for help. Something was going on, and I couldn’t decide which was more worrisome—the fact that his hearing had suddenly gotten a lot worse or that he didn’t even truly realize it yet.

  To test the theory, I tucked my head low and kissed the muscular curve of his chest. I thought of one single statement that I knew would send Till scrambling. In a voice loud enough that he should have easily been able to make out, even without looking at m
e, I said, “I don’t think we should be together.” I lifted my head to catch his eyes with a questioning look. “Is that okay with you?”

  His hazel eyes searched my face for the question as my own begged for a reaction to my false statement. All the while, I prayed that I was wrong.

  “Yeah. That’s fine,” he soothed with a smile that splintered my heart.

  My chin began to quiver. I didn’t care if Till Page went blind, deaf, mute, and dumb—but I knew he cared. I rolled over so he wouldn’t see me cry the tears he wouldn’t understand. With as many black eyes as I had broken ribs, I sobbed for the man whose strong arms held me safely tucked against his chest.

  “Shhhh. I’ve got you. I swear on my life, Eliza. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” he whispered into my hair.

  The day had been exhausting, and within minutes, the talking was done and sleep overtook us both. Till held me painfully tight, but I never once moved away. I needed to feel him as much has he needed to hold me.

  “Till! Oh my God! Get up! It’s seven. You’re late for work.”

  “Mmm,” is all he said as he flipped over onto his stomach.

  “Get. Up!” I hit his back. “You didn’t set the alarm.”

  “I’m not going to work today.”

  “Are you fucking nuts? Get up! You don’t get paid if you don’t go to work.” I sat up and my entire body screamed. I felt nauseated, from the pain as my ribs revolted. “Oh, God.”

  “What the hell are you doing? Get back in bed.” Till was suddenly on his feet and shifting my legs back under the covers.

  “I was gonna make you some coffee. You have to go to work.” I groaned, holding my stomach.

  The pain ebbed as I reclined onto my back. As long as I didn’t move, nothing hurt. I was about to take up permanent residence in Till’s bed. I could think of worse places to live though.

  “Just be still. I’ll make you some breakfast. You’re good with ramen, right?” He smiled a teasing grin.

  “You don’t have time to make me breakfast, and especially not ramen. You have to go to work!”