by Aly Martinez
I focused to keep my eyes off her, knowing that one more glance would ensure that Bailey ended the night in a morgue. I needed to get to her, but not until he paid.
“See, clearly, you got confused somewhere.” I stepped forward, slamming a fist into his mouth. “That woman you just put your hands on has been mine since she took her first breath of air on this Earth.”
I threw a right he surprisingly dodged, but I followed it up with a quick left, knocking him to his ass. Then I lowered myself over him, assuming the same position he’d had on Flint. Grabbing his throat, I cut off his airway. His arms began to wildly seek out contact, but they only ended up sailing through the empty air. His eyes were bulging as he turned red.
“And last night, I finally claimed her once and for all. That date you went on was never about you. It was always about me. All you got was an angry woman trying to make me hurt. But make no mistake—every single time she looked at you, touched you, or even spoke to you, it was always”—I leaned in as close as I could get—“me!”
With that last word, I finished it. Punch after punch, I gave him tenfold anything he could have ever dished out. My vision tunneled as he went limp under me. His head flopped back and forth with every slam. Blood poured from his eyes and mouth, but I was physically unable to stop.
“That’s enough, Till. Come on.” Flint wrapped his arms around my shoulders pulling me backwards, but I kept going.
I couldn’t hit Derrick hard enough to give myself any kind of satisfaction. Not after I’d seen her like that. My arms continued flailing as Flint dragged me to my feet.
“She was always mine!” I roared at Bailey’s unconscious body. “Mine!” I landed a kick to his shoulder and a stomp to his stomach before Flint hauled me out of range.
“Fucking stop! You’re going to kill him!” he yelled, struggling to get me under control. “Goddammit, Till. Chill out and go take care of Eliza.”
At the mention of her name, the blinding rage began to ebb from my system. Eliza.
“Eliza?” I called when I didn’t see her in the corner anymore. “Doodle?” I yelled as Flint dropped his hands, finally convinced I wasn’t after that piece of shit, Bailey, anymore. “Eliza!”
Flint filled in the blank. “She’s in her room.”
I rushed down the hall to her room. Bile rose in my throat as I took in the mess around me. Holy shit. Her easel was broken and all of her art supplies were scattered across the floor. The table next to her bed was tipped over and several frames lay shattered on the ground. How the fuck did I not hear this?
My eyes found her small body in the corner by her closet. Her knees were pulled to her chest, her head resting on top of them; her hands were muffling her ears. After walking over, I squatted down in front of her, careful not to touch her even though every fiber of my being was screaming for me to do just that.
“Eliza,” I whispered, and I heard her mumble something I couldn’t quite make out against her legs. “Huh?” I questioned.
She lifted her head to look at me. I tried really fucking hard not to show any reaction to her injuries, but seeing her in that condition tore away a piece of me I would never be able to reclaim. It gutted me.
There was never a day I could remember where I hadn’t wanted to see Eliza. I used to wait on bated breath to catch just a single glance of her inky, blue eyes. However, I’d have given anything to be able to erase from my memory the way she looked in that moment. Her eyes were both already starting to swell shut, and a large, purple bruise covered almost one whole side of her face. Blood was pouring from a gash over her left eyebrow, and a split in her bottom lip sent more blood trickling down her chin.
“Did you kill him?”
“Don’t know, don’t care. Are you okay?” I brushed the hair away from her blood-soaked face.
Her only response was a simple shake of her head before she flew into my arms.
I scooped her off the ground and carried her to the bed. I had to bite my lip when I heard her painfully hiss a curse as I set her down. I battled with the overwhelming urge to finish what I’d started with Derrick, but that would have to wait.
“I’m gonna get you some ice and something to clean up that cut, okay?”
She nodded.
As I began to walk away, I searched her battered body for somewhere to kiss but came up empty. I settled on her hand, pulling it to my mouth and pressing a reassuring kiss to her palm. It might not have done anything for her, but it sure as hell quelled a fire brewing inside me.
She’s okay.
I walked back into the room to find Flint leaning over Derrick. He appeared to still be unconscious, but anger once again swept through me.
“I think we need to call an ambulance.” Flint said with worry painting his face.
I shook my head and continued to the freezer.
“I’m serious, Till. He doesn’t sound good. His breathing is all gargled, and he’s not waking up.”
“I don’t give one fuck if he dies on that floor. He dug his grave when he touched her. If he still has breath in his lungs right now, it’s too much.”
“You’ll get in trouble,” he pleaded.
But my mind was made up. I wasn’t lifting a single finger to help that piece of shit, not even if it were just to dial 911.
“What. The. Fuck?” boomed from the doorway.
I spun to find Slate’s wide eyes resting on Bailey. He hurried inside and knelt beside him.
“Flint, call nine-one-one. Now!” he shouted. “What the hell happened?”
“Not nearly enough.” I turned my attention back to packing ice into a bag.
“Um. I . . . uh . . .” Eliza stuttered from the hallway.
“What the fuck!” Slate yelled, but before I could glance over my shoulder to see the reason for his curse, I was pinned against the fridge from behind.
“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.”
<
br /> “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 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 than twenty-four hours and I’ve already failed to fucking protect 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 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.”
&
nbsp; 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.”