On The Ropes Series Box Set

by Aly Martinez

  “The boys are still awake.” She raked her nails over my back.

  “Oh hell no. I’m not waiting for them to fall asleep! Quarry had enough Mountain Dew tonight that he may never sleep again. They know we have sex. They’ll get over it.” I pressed my hardening cock against her core, causing her to throw her head back with a gasp.

  “That doesn’t mean I want them to be able to tally how many times I come.”

  “Tally them? How the hell many times are you planning to get off, woman?”

  She laughed, and with just the sound, my cock became impossibly harder. I bit her nipple to silence her, but it didn’t work, because it turned into a moan that I swear I felt in my balls.

  I needed to have her . . . and soon.

  “We’ll be quiet.” I pushed into her panties, finding her clit before she could even object.

  “I can’t be quiet,” she panted, sliding down the bed and out of my reach.

  I dropped my head against the pillow. I was debating if it would be wrong for me to give Flint twenty bucks to take Quarry and go sit in my truck for a half hour when her tongue swirled around the head of my dick.

  “Fuck,” I hissed.

  “You be quiet. I’ll wake you up in a few hours and take mine. Consider it congratulatory head!”

  Her lips formed the most perfect crescent shape as she smiled up at me. It was only outdone by the “O” they made as she sucked my cock to the back of her throat.

  * * *

  I awoke to Eliza’s naked ass rubbing against me. After I’d come in her mouth, I’d begged her to let me return the favor, but she’d been hell-bent on waiting until the boys fell asleep. I had no idea how long it had been since we’d fallen asleep, but Flint and Quarry must have passed out, because the house was silent. I couldn’t see her face, but she was quiet, the motion of her hips the only proof she wasn’t still asleep. Or maybe she was and, even in sleep, her body was craving mine.

  I grazed my teeth over her earlobe. “Mmm. Wake up, baby.” I felt the vibration in my chest, but nothing came out.

  What the fuck?

  “Eliza,” I called, hoping the outcome would be different, but once again, the silence was piercing.

  She immediately rolled over to face me with wide eyes, but I couldn’t focus on anything except my inability to speak.

  “Eliza!” I shouted as if she could somehow make my voice work again.

  I watched her tongue touch her teeth at what I knew to be the “11” at the end of my name, but she couldn’t talk either.

  It’s a nightmare. It has to be.

  “Doodle, are you okay?” I shouted as loud as I could, hoping to break through whatever unknown force was compressing the sound.

  With a painful flinch, she covered my mouth with the palm of her hand. Her lips moved with powerful words, none of which made it to my ears.

  I shook her hand off my mouth. “I can’t talk!” I yelled, scrambling off the bed. I knocked over damn near everything in my frantic escape, but I didn’t still until my ass was against the wall.

  Fisting a hand into my hair, I watched the tears fall from her eyes as she mouthed what I decided was the word “stop” over and over again.

  She climbed over the bed and snatched a sketchpad off the nightstand, quickly scrawling a message that would effectively end my life as I knew it.

  I can hear you. Calm down.

  The weight of such simple words was indescribable.

  Eliza

  His eyes were feral. Every single muscle on his body was taut, and the confusion was only slightly less painful than the utter destruction that crumbled his otherwise strong body the second he read my words.

  “It’s okay.” My voice cracked as I slowly approached the skittish man I recognized as my rock. I wiped my tears away because I knew they would do no good. He didn’t need those. He needed me.

  He blinked rapidly as I soothed him with words he couldn’t hear.

  “Eliza?” he questioned loudly once more as realization sank in, causing tears to build in his eyes.

  “Shh.” I placed a finger over my mouth. It trembled wildly even though I desperately tried to keep it still. I didn’t want him to see my anxiety, but I broke into sobs when he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me against his chest.

  Somehow, Till was suddenly deaf—and comforting me.

  “Is everything okay?” Flint called from outside our door.

  Stepping away, I dried my eyes and threw a pair of pants in Till’s direction. “Get dressed,” I told him before remembering that it was worthless. Then I grabbed the sketchpad off the floor.

  Get dressed. We’re going to the hospital.

  “Eliza?” Flint said as he knocked.

  “Yeah. Everything’s good,” I answered, pulling on my own clothes then opening the door.

  “I heard Till yelling. Are you okay?” He looked around me to catch a glimpse of his brother, who was nervously fumbling with his shirt. His hands were shaking so violently that he couldn’t quite pull it on. “What’s wrong?”

  Backing him out of the room, I whispered, “Listen, I have to take Till to the hospital. I need you to keep an eye on Q and call Slate for me.”

  He took a frightened step away. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Um . . .” I stalled, trying to figure out what to say, but in the end, there was only one answer. “He can’t hear anything. It’s gonna be fine though. We just need to get him to a doctor.”

  “He can’t hear anything?” Quarry asked in shock as he rounded the corner out of his room.

  “Shit,” I mumbled to myself.

  Telling Flint was one thing. Quarry was something totally different.

  “I don’t know yet. It doesn’t seem like it. Just call Slate. Tell him what’s going on.” I backed into the room and grabbed Till’s hand.

  His eyes were all over the place, but as we walked past the boys, he still managed to recognize Quarry’s anxiety. He stopped long enough to lick his finger and stick it in Quarry’s ear. His halfhearted attempt at teasing did nothing to quell his brother’s fears. Quarry’s chin quivered as he turned and marched away.

  * * *

  I drove to the hospital with my hand anchored on Till’s thigh. Not a force in the world could have torn it away. It wasn’t a possessive gesture like I had seen Till do so many times before. No. It was a plain and simple connection of love, and we both needed it.

  Hand in hand, we were ushered to the back of the emergency room almost immediately. He sat on a stiff hospital bed with his head hung low. We had no idea what was going on, but I knew Till. I was positive he had entirely too many worst-case scenarios floating through his head. He needed a distraction. Reaching into my purse, I pulled out a notepad and pen.

  Crawling into his lap, I kissed every inch of his face that my lips could reach. His chest heaved, but not in the sexual way I was accustomed to. Till was fighting back his own emotions. He didn’t need me to witness that.

  So I started drawing.

  It wasn’t much. Just a stick figure climbing through a window. But it seemed to help. I drew a woman on the other side and gave her huge boobs. Till looked up then, a small smile pulling at the side of his mouth. After snatching the pencil from my hand, he added a freckle under her right breast. I laughed, and his eyes snapped to mine. His gaze flashed to my mouth as he swallowed hard. But he eventually lost the battle.

  Burying his face in my neck, Till lost it completely. He clung to me as his shoulders shook. I couldn’t tell if any tears actually fell from his eyes, but his body was being ravaged. He would never admit it, but I thought he was more scared than upset. I felt helpless, but I held him as tight as possible and whispered encouraging words that would never be heard—those were for me.

  A few seconds later, Slate walked into the room, and I threw up a hand to halt him. Till would have been mortified if the only man he considered a father witnessed his breakdown, no matter how understandable it might have been. Glancing down at Ti
ll in my arms, Slate nodded understandingly and backed out of the door.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I decided the doomsday pity party needed to be over. It wasn’t helping anyone. The fact was that, while I hated this for Till, it wasn’t the end of the world. No one was dead or dying. Millions of people lived happy lives despite their inability to hear. Till was no different. We would be happy too.

  I slid off his lap, and his red-rimmed eyes bounced to mine in question.

  “No more,” I announced very slowly so he could read my lips. I took my finger and poked into his chest. “You are okay.” Then I moved it to my own chest. “I am okay.” Then I motioned it between us. “We are okay.” I grabbed the notebook and jotted down the words: Nothing else matters.

  He stared at the pad for a few seconds, but eventually, his shoulders relaxed. A second later, they squared, and a second after that, Till was done with the pity party too. He lifted his head and took a deep breath. He was still pale and nervous as hell, but “The Silencer” Till Page had officially shown up to the fight.

  His eyes fearlessly held mine, and I gave him a weak grin.

  Lifting his hand, I kissed his palm. “I love you.”

  He responded with his mouth, but it wasn’t in words.

  He snaked a hand out, grabbing the back of my neck, and pulled me in for a hard, closemouthed kiss. As soon as he was done, he settled me back onto his lap, but this time, Till’s strong arms were protectively holding me, not the other way around.

  Slate’s here, I wrote. Do you want me to let him in?

  He nodded and allowed me off his lap. When I opened the room door, Slate was standing in the hall, talking on the phone.

  “It’s okay, Q. He’s gonna be fine. I promise,” he said, holding the back of his neck and pacing the hallway. “Look, Johnson is gonna be there in a few minutes. Let him in. He’s gonna hang with you two until Till gets back. Nah, I know you don’t need a babysitter. Just humor me.” He shook his head and glanced up at me. “Hey, I gotta go, Eliza just came out. I’ll keep you updated.” He hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket. “How is he?”

  “Better now.”

  “Can he hear anything?”

  I had no answer besides to just shake my head.

  “Shiiit,” he breathed, raking a hand through his hair.

  “He wants you to come in, but we’re not grieving anymore, okay? It’s fight time.”

  Slate smiled and squeezed my shoulder before using it to pull me into a side hug. “You’re a good woman, Eliza.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, but I embraced the moment of comfort and reassurance his hug provided—feelings that were usually reserved for the man on the other side of the door.

  Slate walked into the room first and stopped in front of Till. Then he grabbed the notebook and pencil off the bed and began writing. Till motioned for me to rejoin him. As he kissed the top of my head, I resumed my position on his lap.

  For a moment, I thought Slate was writing a novel. Finally, he passed the notebook back and then crossed his thick arms over his chest.

  Just so we are on the same page about something, “The Silent Storm” is my nickname. I had it trademarked years ago. I have absolutely no problem suing you for everything you have if you try to steal that shit. No matter how fitting it may be for you now.

  Till barked out a laugh as he finished.

  Slate watched him warmly before saying, “You’ll be fine.”

  Till nodded, once again refusing to speak.

  It wasn’t long before the doctor made his way into the room. They swooped Till away for what seemed like a million tests—it at least took long enough to be a million. Slate stepped into the hall and spent most of the time on his phone while I sat awkwardly, alone, and in silence—just like Till. I cried even though I knew I was supposed to be fighting, but I was just so fucking numb.

  Finally, they ushered us into an audiologist’s office on the far side of the hospital. The fact that there was an audiologist in his office at three a.m. led me to believe that Slate had been busy calling more than just Quarry while he had been in the hall. Till settled in the chair next to me, taking hold of my hand to rest it on his thigh. I would have preferred to be back on his lap, but this was neither the time nor the place for comfort. This was the place for the truth about the future.

  “Okay, Till is currently hearing at less than five percent.” He looked at Till and pointed to the screen above his desk, where the words were forming as he spoke them.

  “Will it come back?” I inquired hopefully.

  “No. I’m fairly certain that it won’t be coming back.”

  Till cleared his throat and cracked his neck as the doctor’s prognosis appeared on the screen.

  “Given your history, we didn’t anticipate your hearing to disappear this suddenly. I’ve been told that you are a professional boxer, and while trauma can cause hearing loss, it’s more likely your genetic condition that’s the culprit here. However, like I told you, a cochlear implant is a great solution for your type of hearing loss.”

  “Wait. What?” I jumped from my chair.

  The doctor glanced at Till before looking back at me.

  “He’s eligible for an implant? He could hear again?”

  “Well, that part is up to Till. But yes, he is eligible.”

  Till shook his head and stood up, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I wiggled out of his grasp as tears of joy sprang to my eyes.

  “Oh my God, you’ll be able to hear again!” I laughed, but he watched me blankly. “What?” I asked as my smile faded.

  He grabbed a pen and paper off the doctor’s desk. No implant. It costs too much money.

  I snatched the paper from his hand. “You have insurance now,” I spoke out loud as I wrote. Then I turned to the doctor and asked, “Insurance will cover the implant, right?”

  “Well, yes. Most of it. However, it could still be quite costly. There are programs that can help patients who can’t afford the procedure.”

  “It’s not the money,” Slate chimed in from behind me. “He knows I’d pay for it.”

  Till lifted the pen to write again, but I stole the paper before he had the chance.

  “Talk,” I demanded, and he narrowed his eyes at me. “Why won’t you get the implant?”

  He just shook his head, so I turned to the doctor.

  “What’s the catch here?”

  “I’ll step out for a minute so you all can discuss this alone.” He walked from the room, leaving me even more confused and irritated than ever.

  I took a deep breath and picked the paper up.

  What is going on? What am I missing? You could hear again! This doesn’t have to be permanent!!!!!!! I nearly broke the pen as I forcefully added each exclamation point.

  Till’s eyes flashed to Slate, who was looming behind me. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but I honestly didn’t care. There was only one thing that mattered.

  You’re getting the implant, I scrawled definitively.

  Till finally found his voice in the tone of an angry snarl. “No!”

  “Why. Not?” I growled right back at him.

  “Because he can’t box anymore with the implant,” Slate said, unleashing the venomous snake of truth into the room, before stalking out and slamming the door.

  Oh. My. God.

  You would rather fight than hear? I tilted my head, incredulous.

  His answer was a shrug that apparently said it all.

  Till

  The tension was thick as Eliza drove us home from the hospital. I could feel the anger radiating off her, but she didn’t once leave my side. She did, however, put the pen and paper back in her purse, effectively ending any further conversation. She might not have communicated, but she’d held my hand when the doctor had come back in and scheduled a follow-up appointment for the next day. He’d filled a bag with books and pamphlets, including a schedule for sign language courses at the local community center.

  It
was so fucking surreal.

  When we walked through the door to our apartment, the boys both jumped off the couch. Quarry’s mouth was moving a million miles a minute, and just the sight wrenched my chest. Flint quickly elbowed him to make him shut up. They both stared at me, just as unsure of how to react as I was. So I tossed them a forced smile and headed to my room. I could see the concern in Flint’s eyes as I passed him, so I reached out and punched him in the shoulder. It was playful and hard, but judging by his face, it wasn’t comforting in the least.

  Normal. I just needed things to feel normal even if they didn’t sound it.

  I flipped off the light and fell into bed. My mind was all over the place while trying to figure out how the hell I was going to function with my new existence. I was pissed at myself for not having prepared better for this day. I knew it was coming; I just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

  After a half hour, I got bored of being alone and went to find Eliza. She was probably still mad at me, but I could live with that as long as she was at my side.

  I found her sitting on the couch, surrounded on both sides. Flint sat on one side with his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands as Eliza scratched his back. Quarry was on the other side tucked under her arm. His body was stiff as if he didn’t want the physical sympathy, but his head was resting on her shoulder as if he’d never needed anything more. Tears were running from his eyes.

  Jesus. Quarry. He had gotten so big recently that, sometimes, I forgot that he was still just a twelve-year-old kid who faced my same fate.

  When I cleared my throat, they all looked up. Q immediately began drying his eyes and looking away. I casually strolled over to the couch and ruffled his hair. He hated it when I did that, but this time, he didn’t squirm. Using both hands, I signaled for them to part the sea and make room for me. Squeezing between Flint and Eliza, I tossed my arms over the back of the couch and roughly dragged them all in for a group hug. Their heads clinked together, and I was sure they all groaned, but I wanted to keep it light. However, those three seconds when my entire life was secure in my arms would be etched into my memory for all of eternity. Tomorrow didn’t seem so scary when I was on that couch with them.