Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)

by Aly Martinez

  “Nowhere,” I replied through clenched teeth.

  “Good answer,” he said, carrying me across the room.

  I went willingly until I saw his knife come into view on the floor.

  My legs thrashed violently, but his large hand bit into my hip as he bent over to retrieve it.

  “Easy there,” he soothed. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I sucked in a shuddering breath, fighting back the reemergence of my tears.

  “At least, not without Page here to witness it.”

  I don’t remember taking a single breath as I sped down those icy roads faster than any mortal should ever drive. My lungs were on fire, and my chest ached with every passing minute. The gas pedal was on the floor as I weaved through traffic like a maniac. I’d even passed Leo on the highway.

  I was less than a minute from the community center when Liv’s number lit up my cell phone. A huge breath of relief flew from my mouth, and my foot slowly lifted off the pedal.

  “Thank fucking God,” was my greeting.

  “Don’t come here!” she screeched into my ear, spiking my pulse all over again.

  My lead foot fell back on the accelerator. “Liv!”

  I heard the bellow of a maniacal laugh.

  “You better hurry.” Davenport’s voice filtered through the line, solidifying my worst fears. “Before it’s too late”

  “What the fuck are you—” I started but stopped midsentence when Liv’s agonizing screams hit my ear. The pain in her voice was paralyzing, and my already-tense body convulsed. “Liv!”

  I helplessly held the phone as her cries continued. It wasn’t until her voice disappeared that I realized Liv had always been right.

  The silence was fucking terrifying.

  “Please don’t do this!” I whispered, cradling my dislocated finger against my chest.

  Davenport had left it mangled after forcefully ripping my engagement ring off.

  “Please, shut the fuck up,” he replied, casually lifting my ring in the air as if he were inspecting the stone.

  Tears were streaming from my eyes as I stared at my phone, lying on the floor across the room. The screen was lit with an incoming call, which I knew was Quarry. Davenport had just hung up on him. I was in unbelievable pain, but nothing hurt as much as the agony in his voice as he’d shouted my name just before the call had been ended. It was a sound I could never unhear.

  Suddenly, red-and-blue police lights caught my attention as they filled the parking lot. Davenport gripped the back of my neck and hauled me in front of him.

  “Looks like your boyfriend brought reinforcements.” He laughed, not a care in the world.

  He was seriously insane, and as if I hadn’t already been scared, the sound of his hollow laugh sent me into the petrified territory.

  Movement from the floor caught my attention.

  Don was starting to come to.

  Lifting my hands, I silently signed, Help is here. Don’t move.

  His confused eyes shifted from me to Davenport before closing again.

  I was forced to the double glass doors, where dozens of police cars had joined our party. Tears of relief flooded my eyes as I saw my dad’s SUV and Quarry’s Porsche parked behind them.

  “He took my belt,” Davenport whispered ominously.

  “N-not yet. You could still win,” I replied as a cold chill ran down my spine.

  “Dumb bitch,” he mumbled.

  I saw Quarry’s strong body in the crowd long before Davenport did.

  But, judging by the terror on Quarry’s face, he saw Davenport lift the knife long before I did.

  We all heard the gun explode before Davenport did.

  It was unquestionably the scariest moment of my entire life.

  “No!” I roared as a gun fired from out of nowhere just as Davenport lifted a knife to Liv’s throat.

  It was a wonder I wasn’t sucking the oxygen out of the state of Indiana for as hard as I had gasped. Blood roared through my veins as my worst nightmare played out in front of me. Dozens of officers were rushing toward the door when another shot was fired, forcing them all to shift to the sides of the building, flanking the door.

  “Get down!” an officer at my side ordered, but my legs were already moving—and it wasn’t to hide.

  Sprinting down the middle of the sidewalk, I ignored every single officer shouting my name.

  Fueled by desperation and adrenaline alone, rational thought left me. I would not fucking fail Liv James—no matter the cost to myself.

  Yanking on the glass door, I found it locked. My chest heaved as I prepared to bust it down. But I paused when I saw Liv scrambling away with Davenport hot on her heels. Frantically, I banged on the door, trying to catch his attention, but then everything suddenly got worse.

  In that moment, I didn’t even know that was possible.

  But it was my life. It could always get worse.

  The only person I could ever hate as much as Garrett Davenport suddenly appeared in front of me with his gun held high, aimed directly at my chest.

  The moment his blue eyes met mine, his face softened.

  Get back, he mouthed.

  I couldn’t do anything but blink.

  Swinging his gun away, he lifted a single hand and signed, I’ll get her.

  I had been wrong.

  That was unquestionably the scariest moment of my entire life.

  “Dad!” I screamed, pounding my fists on the glass as he disappeared down the hall.

  I had been a lot of things in life: thief, con man, gambling addict, drug dealer, bookie, inmate. Most recently, I was the assistant to the director for the American Sign Language program at the local community center.

  It was a job I took very seriously.

  If you asked my kids, they would probably add a few other names to my laundry list of titles, such as: spineless, slimeball, coward, deadbeat, worthless, loser.

  And they’d be right.

  Over the years, I had more than earned every single one of those. However, that didn’t change the fact that, over ten years later, the only title I truly wanted was father.

  And it was the only one they would never give back to me.

  And they’d be right for that too.

  I’d spent years watching my kids grow up and start their own families through the pages of sports magazines. After the shit I’d put them through, I didn’t even deserve that. But I was lucky enough to have donated sperm to create some amazing men. I’d followed Till closely as he’d grown up, selflessly giving back to not only the community, but the boys I’d abandoned when I’d lost myself in a life of drugs and gambling. I’d watched my weak and premature baby boy Quarry grow into one of the toughest fighters to ever step through the ropes. Flint had been harder to track, but a life of crime had some benefits. I’d called in some favors, and I had been able to get enough info to find myself in the audience the day he’d crossed the stage to get his college diploma. I hadn’t even graduated high school, and there he was, paralyzed, relearning how to walk, and still graduating with honors in only two years.

  And Eliza had been right all those years ago when we’d first met in Las Vegas—I had not one thing to do with any of it.

  Those boys had forged their own path through life and come out the other end stronger than I could have ever imagined.

  I was a loser.

  I was spineless.

  I was a deadbeat.

  But I still missed them more than words could ever express.

  So, when I caught wind that Quarry’s long-time girlfriend had put an ad in the newspaper looking for an ASL assistant, I jumped at the opportunity. That first meeting, I went in guarded, unsure if she’d recognize me. But I should have known my boys wouldn’t have photos of dear old dad lining the walls of their new multimillion-dollar mansions. If they were as smart as I thought they were, any evidence of me had gone up in smoke years earlier.

  After I got the job, I fell in love with Liv. It was easy to
see why Quarry loved her like he did. I didn’t get to see her often, but on the days I did, she’d fill me in on what was happening in the boys’ lives. She loved the Page brothers so much that it didn’t take but a single question before she’d whip her phone out and show me countless pictures of my grandkids. I never would have gotten that without her. It was well worth the rest of the bullshit of grading papers and tutoring the adults.

  And, right then, I was pissed all to Hell and back that Garrett Davenport had just cost me all of it. I’d been gone for the last month to avoid having my identity exposed after his first stunt. Now this? Fucking asshole.

  I’d cleaned up my life a good bit, but I still had warrants out for my arrest and a pretty fucking substantial gambling debt, not even to mention the unregistered—and probably stolen—gun I had just fired in front of half of the Indy police force. There was no way I was making it out of that building without a pair of cuffs, but before I went in for my extended stay at the big house, I was finally going to do something right for my boys.

  “Garrett!” I yelled, following the path of lights that had been triggered by motion sensors.

  The creaks from the soles of my shoes against the tile were the only noise in the building. Even Quarry’s shouts from the front door had fallen quiet. I jerked every door open as I slowly made it down the hall. Davenport was nowhere to be found. And, if I could just find Liv, I could let the cops in to clean up the piece of garbage. But I didn’t trust that that mental case wouldn’t hurt her when a million uniforms rushed into the building.

  I’d shot him in the leg when he’d lifted that knife to her throat. He wouldn’t find himself lucky again. I was aiming a little higher this time.

  “Oh, Davenport!” I singsonged down the hall.

  After I’d snatched the door to the supply closet open, I caught sight of Liv. I could barely make out her silhouette through the darkness, but from what I could tell, she was folded into a ball with her head on her knees. She didn’t look up as I jerked the door wide. It was for the best though. It meant she didn’t see when Davenport appeared out of nowhere and tackled me to the ground.

  “Son of a bitch,” I groaned.

  The guy was huge, so there wasn’t much I could do except for kick the door shut so he hopefully didn’t see her. The gun vanished during the scuffle; that was probably my only saving grace. Because, as much as I wanted to destroy that piece of shit, I figured killing him might not help my pleas for leniency in court. So, while I couldn’t do much to fight against him without a weapon, my only other option was to draw him away.

  His fist landed hard against my face just as my foot stomped the bleeding hole in his thigh. He howled in pain, allowing me the opportunity to climb to my feet and haul ass back to the front door. I swear to God it took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to roll my eyes as I heard his grunts as the dumbass limped after me.

  After I’d reached the doors, I was fighting with the locks, trying to get them undone, when the insane ogre finally caught up. Steeling my shoulders, I braced for impact. He plowed into me—just seconds after I’d twisted the final lock open.

  I couldn’t even count how many times his fists landed on my face. But, as officers rushed in, I took every single blow with a smile, knowing that, for the first time in my life, I’d finally done right by my kids.

  “I’M NOT SCARED,” I WHISPERED, sinking even deeper into his arms. The warmth of his strong chest pressed into my back, reminded me of the security that only existed when I was with him. “I knew you’d come.” I turned my head to nuzzle against his bicep, his arms tightening around me. “I’m safe with you, Quarry,” I mumbled—my words from all those years ago, wholeheartedly believing them all over again.

  Even if he was only in my imagination, nothing could hurt me when I was in his arms.

  Not Davenport.

  Not knives.

  Not guns.

  Not pain.

  Not fear.

  Not when I was with him.

  “Just a few more minutes,” I whispered.

  A tear dripped off my chin, joining the growing collection in my lap.

  “Just a few more minutes.” I repeated.

  Not even a second later, a soundless sob tore from my throat as Otis Redding’s White Christmas filled the silence.

  My breath caught on a shudder. “He’s coming.”

  The officers had just gotten Davenport in cuffs, and I didn’t wait for a sign, nor did I ask for permission before I rushed into the community center in search of Liv.

  “She’s in the supply closet in the hall,” Clay called out as he lay face down in a pair of cuffs.

  My heart stopped, and the very idea of her hiding in a dark closet made me want to kill Davenport that much more. And I’d already wanted to watch him burn alive. Now, even that was too kind.

  That would have to wait though.

  I paused only long enough to press the power button on the speaker system, turning it as loud as it could go before sprinting down the hall.

  “Rocky!” I yelled over the Christmas music. I began snatching door after door open, finding each one empty. With only one left at the end of the hall, I sucked in a deep breath, holding it as I slowly opened the door.

  There she was.

  Still breathing.

  Heart still beating.

  Scared to fucking death, hiding in a motherfucking closet.

  But she was still alive.

  Still mine.

  Forever.

  “Liv,” I said softly, dropping to my knees beside her.

  Her arms were wrapped around her legs, her forehead resting on her knees. She flinched when I brushed her hair off her shoulder.

  “Are you okay, baby?”

  I could barely hear her when she asked, “Are you really here?”

  My voice lodged in my throat. I couldn’t be positive of the answer, but if it were a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

  “Yeah, Rocky. I’m here. You’re safe now.”

  All at once, she dove into my arms. Burrowing her face in my neck, she clung to my shoulders as sobs ravaged her. “I-I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “Shhh. You did good.” I stood up with her in my arms.

  Leo was just outside the door, his pale face etched with relief. I was sure it matched my own.

  “I knew you’d come.”

  “Always.” I kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

  I carried her into a breakroom across the hall. Settling in a chair, I held her securely tucked against my chest. Her mom, along with Till and Flint, appeared in the doorway, and Leo paced the length of the room, only stopping to snap his fingers when an officer would try to interrupt us.

  The Christmas music had been turned down, but it still softly played in the background as I allowed her the time to collect herself.

  “Is…is Don okay?” she finally asked.

  “Don?” The proverbial light bulb went off above my head. “Oh, God. Is the old guy your assistant?” If I hadn’t been holding her safely in my arms, that would have been the moment my blood began to boil all over again.

  She nodded without looking up.

  “He’s fine,” I said shortly, looking to Leo, Till, and Flint, whose angry faces told me they were sharing my little realization.

  “Can I see him?”

  “No,” we all snapped entirely too roughly given her current state.

  Her head popped up, and she looked at me before nervously flashing her gaze around the room. “Why not?” she asked in a shaky voice.

  “Because he’s probably on his way to jail right about now.”

  “No!” She jumped to her feet. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “His name isn’t Don, Rocky. It’s Clay Page.”

  Her eyes grew wide in understanding. “No way.”

  “I have no idea what this was about, but I’m gonna find out. I swear, if he had anything to do with this—”

  “He didn’t,” she whispered
sadly. “He tried to save me. He yelled at me to run after he shot Davenport…but I remember what he did to Flint and Eliza.” She stopped, and tears once again filled her eyes. “This is too much. Can we just go home now?”

  “Yeah, babe… Jesus!” I cursed when I saw her swollen and contorted ring finger.

  “I’m fine,” she immediately lied as her father closed in on her.

  “No, you are not!”

  “What the fuck!”

  “Shit!”

  That had all come from the door.

  “Medic!” Leo yelled.

  “Oh my God, Daddy. Stop! I’m fine.”

  “Let me see,” Till said, busting into the middle.

  “Move!” Sarah exclaimed, pushing him out of the way.

  Flint even got in on the action, lifting his iPhone and talking out loud as he started Googling finger injuries.

  I didn’t move. Not even an inch. I sat in the chair, watching her cop an attitude with her parents while batting off my brothers’ concerned hands.

  I swallowed hard as the adrenaline started to leave me. My mouth dried, and I folded my hands together, linking them behind my neck to hide the fact that they had begun to shake. My mind went to work terrorizing me with all the possible what-ifs that could have happened. I felt like the biggest pussy to have roamed the Earth, but the intensity of it all was crippling. I must have looked like hell, because Liv’s attention snapped to mine, concern and understanding painting her face.

  “Everyone out,” she demanded. “Now.”

  Till walked over and squeezed my shoulder. “You’re okay. She’s okay. We’re all okay. Nothing else matters, Q. Not Dad. Not Davenport. Nothing.”

  “I know,” I replied unconvincingly, my impending breakdown only seconds away.