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On The Ropes Series Box Set

Page 56

by Aly Martinez


  The vibrations of her tiny, pounding fists slashed my soul, ensuring that I’d wear the scars of that moment for the rest of my life. And maybe even a lifetime after that.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “Quarry!” she cried, her voice cracking as she broke into loud sobs.

  She needed to know that the silence wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to her—trusting me was.

  “Daddy!” she screamed, giving up on me altogether—just as she should have.

  But it wrecked me all the same.

  After pushing to my feet, I released the door. It flew open, but I didn’t dare look at her. I couldn’t. I no longer had that right.

  She should have punched me. No. She should have beaten the absolute shit out of me.

  I would have let her. I’d have stood there until I was black and blue if it would have made her feel better.

  Instead, all I got was the squeak of her shoes on the tile as she sprinted away.

  It was the single best decision she had ever made—regardless of how it gutted me.

  Standing completely alone in that hall, I anxiously awaited the moment when Leo or Slate would come after me. I’d done the deed; I wanted to pay the price. They never showed up though. There were no laps to be run. No hard lesson from her angry father. Till didn’t even ground me when we got home. I wasn’t actually sure Liv had told anyone.

  But the punishment I received was more devastating than I was prepared for—even if it was exactly what I deserved.

  It was three long years before I saw Liv James again.

  Chapter Five

  Liv

  I USED EVERY POSSIBLE EXCUSE to avoid Indianapolis, On The Ropes, and, more specifically, a pair of hazel eyes that had broken my heart. My parents were extremely suspicious as to why I broke into tears any time the Page brothers came up in conversation, but I never told them what had happened that day at the hospital. As much as I liked getting Quarry into minor trouble, I knew that this would have been major in my father’s eyes, mainly because it was major in mine too.

  Quarry no longer had my back—that much was clear. I, however, had told him that I’d protect him, and despite months of nightmares about being locked in that dark, silent closet, I kept my word.

  But just because I didn’t rat him out didn’t mean I forgave him—or ever would. Besides my parents and my counselor, he was the only person who knew about my fears. And he’d used that knowledge like a weapon, slicing me to the core. As sad as it sounds, the worst of it wasn’t the fact that he’d so grossly broken my trust. No, the worst was that I’d lost him in the process. A few months after it’d happened, my dad started bringing home notes any time he saw the boys. They were all addressed to Rocky, and they all landed in the trash can without being opened.

  I didn’t want an apology from Quarry Page.

  I actually didn’t want anything from him anymore.

  He’d made the decision, and I was the one forced to live with the consequences.

  It fucking sucked.

  I’d lost my best friend that day. Sure, we were just kids, but the bond Quarry and I shared was something that only happened once in a lifetime. I knew I’d never find anyone like him again, so I didn’t even bother trying.

  Much to my father’s excitement, I met a few girls at school. Most of them were nice, but they didn’t make me laugh the way Quarry had. They also never locked me in a closet, so I decided to keep them.

  Life moved on. I grew up, and judging by the amount of time my dad spent traveling to boxing matches with Slate, so did the Page brothers. I overheard my mom on the phone the day Quarry had won the Golden Gloves championship. I was happy for him. There was a part of me that ached because I would have killed to be at that fight. I could even imagine his lopsided grin as he caught my eye while I cheered his name from the front row. That thought stung worse than I could have ever imagined. I knew how much he loved boxing—just exactly the way he knew how terrified I was of the silence.

  With that, the ache went away, and I once again set on about living the lie that had become my life.

  And it worked really freaking well for three years. I was just a normal teenager, texting friends, flirting with boys, slaving over geometry homework, and religiously sleeping with headphones. So, maybe normal was a stretch. But I was happy-ish. I rarely even thought about my old childhood pal, Quarry Page. And, by rarely, I mean maybe once a week. Okay, so maybe rarely was a bit of a stretch too. It’s not like I had a scrapbook of all the articles that were published about him in the sports section as he became the up-and-coming golden boy of boxing at only sixteen. Being that Till was a former world champion and his trainer, Uncle Slate, was too, boxing fans everywhere were watching Quarry destroy the amateur circuit. A scrapbook like that would have taken hours each week to keep up—hypothetically, of course.

  I never hated Quarry for what he had done to me. I hated him for what he had done to us. It had been the ultimate betrayal, and it affected me far more than those sixty seconds in the closet. I had already been a bit of a loner, preferring to spend my time with a book and music rather than actual people. But, as the years passed, it became worse. If I didn’t trust anyone else, they couldn’t hurt me. It was a hard lesson learned but surprisingly easy to maintain. I had friends, but not a single confidant.

  That is until I met Mia March, the only person who would ever be able to fill Quarry’s shoes—complete with shredding me in betrayal.

  It was a Friday, and I’d just gotten home from school. I was looking forward to a low-key weekend spent in my room with the radio blaring. Maybe doing a little online shoe shopping. But my entire life changed as I was going through the mail. My heart stopped, and panic rolled in my stomach. With shaking hands, I lifted my father’s latest issue of USA Boxing Magazine. On the front was a picture of Till and Quarry standing back to back. I would have ripped it out and added it to my scrapbook—err, if I’d had one. But the headline stopped me in my tracks.

  Find out how newly deaf Quarry Page plans to not only follow in his brother’s footsteps, but also surpass The Silencer’s reign in the ring.

  “Mom!” I yelled, dropping the magazine and tearing from the room. “He’s deaf?” I accused when I found her sitting in her office, probably working on something for my dad’s security company.

  Her eyes lifted to mine, and a tight smile formed on her lips. “Well—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know you’d be interested in news about Quarry.”

  “Are you crazy? He’s deaf! Of course I’m interested!”

  “I am a little crazy, but so are you if you think you’re going to continue yelling at me like that.” She nonchalantly brushed her long, blond hair back and pushed out from behind the desk. “Okay, so you’re interested. What now?”

  “What do you mean? What now?” I stared at her, incredulous.

  “Do you want me to tell you what’s been going on with Quarry for the last three years, or do you want to ask him yourself? I bet he’d sign something to add to that shrine you keep tucked under your bed.” She absently smoothed her fitted dress, which I promptly decided to order in my size.

  “Just tell me,” I huffed.

  “Well, his hearing took a significant downslide about—”

  She didn’t even get all the words out of her mouth before my stomach dropped. I couldn’t imagine how Q was handling it. He wasn’t a boy anymore—that much was visible. But I’d witnessed firsthand how devastated he had been when Till had lost his hearing. Now, it was the future and he was the one adjusting to a new life—in silence. Just the thought terrified me.

  “I want to go to Indy,” I blurted.

  Her knowing smile grew. “About time. I’ll tell your dad I need to discuss some things with Erica.”

  “What? Dad wouldn’t care if we—”

  “Pack a bag, Liv. We don’t want to get on the road too late.” She breezed past me,
leaving me alone in the quiet room.

  But that wasn’t why I started freaking out. What the hell was I doing?

  Later, Q.

  Later, Rocky.

  It was officially later.

  I needed to be there. If not for him, then for me.

  It was time to let the past go.

  Crap.

  * * *

  Three hours later, I was standing in the doorway of On The Ropes, watching a shirtless Quarry Page destroy a speed bag. It was late and the gym was mostly empty, but even if it had been packed, I wouldn’t have been able to miss him.

  I knew he’d changed from the pictures, but God, had he changed. Not quite seventeen yet, but he was well over six feet tall, and two black tattoos graced the traps at the base of his neck. His hair was probably the same length as the last time I’d seen him. However, it was no longer hanging in his eyes. The front was slicked back, most likely with a combination of gel and sweat, and the underneath was buzzed short. Not a hair fell out of place as he rhythmically pounded the swinging bag, switching hands with every punch. The sheen of sweat indicated he’d been at it for a while, but his arms remained steady, never slowing. My mouth dried as my eyes raked over his strong body—every inch rippled with muscles.

  Quarry was a man. And a gorgeous one at that.

  I stared for entirely too long before remembering why I was there in the first place.

  He was going to think I was insane, showing up after all these years. But, if there was ever someone who would understand why I needed to be there, it was him.

  Rushing forward, I slammed into his back and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face between his shoulder blades.

  His hands stilled in midair, but his muscular body instantly relaxed. His heart pounded out a rhythm that matched my own. Though his was probably only from the exertion of his workout. I couldn’t handle the idea that he might be excited to see me too. I was there to soothe my own fears. Not for him. Well, not completely.

  “Hey, Rocky,” he said in a deep baritone without even looking back.

  Staying flush against his back, I lifted my hands in front of him and signed, Hey, Q.

  “I was wondering if you were going to show up.”

  I continued to clumsily sign with my hands in front of him, using his body to make some of the gestures. I just heard. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? How are you doing?

  His shoulder shook as he chuckled. “I’m okay. I see you kept up your end of the deal and learned sign.” His voice was thick but unreadable. “I’m kinda failing on my end. Sorry.”

  Don’t you dare apologize. You didn’t fail anything. This was—

  He gently pushed my hand down with his glove to interrupt me. “You can talk, Liv.” Stepping away, he turned to face me. No sooner had he stilled than his eyes flared wide as he drank me in for the first time in over three years. He wasn’t the only one who had grown up—and had grown up well. “Jesus,” he breathed, dropping his gaze to the ground after it had lingered on my boobs for a beat too long.

  I was used to the attention. When I was fourteen, I’d gone from an A cup to a D. I no longer looked like a little girl in any regard. While I wasn’t the most popular girl in school, there wasn’t exactly a shortage of boys asking me out. There was, however, a shortage of me being interested—a fact that thrilled my parents. But, with only a single glance, I was suddenly very, very interested in one boy in particular.

  Thankfully, my mind was still focused on the reason for our little reunion. Snapping my fingers in his line of vision, I drew his attention back to my hands.

  How are you handling all this?

  “Stop with the sign language and talk.”

  I tipped my head to the side in confusion then once again started to sign.

  He barked a laugh. “Liv, I can hear you. Just talk.”

  “What?!” I shrieked.

  He tapped his ear with a gloved hand. “Hearing aids.”

  “What?!” I repeated.

  His lips spread into a wide smile that only grew when my eyes became fixated on it.

  “Jesus,” I repeated and flashed my gaze away.

  “I heard that.”

  “Wha…how?”

  “Shit, Liv, did you go deaf? I said…hearing aids.” After tucking a glove under his arm, he tugged it off and then repeated the process on the other side.

  I glared at him. “Oh my God! Did you lie to that magazine? It said you were deaf! That’s seriously messed up.”

  He laughed loudly while raking a hand through his hair. His abs flexed deliciously—not that I noticed or anything.

  “I didn’t lie. But I probably would have if I’d known it would bring you back from that cave you’ve been hiding in.” He smirked.

  A real-life, mouth-watering, manly smirk. It was infuriating—and gorgeous.

  For a champion boxer, his reflexes were seriously slow. Thus, when I threw a punch, it landed squarely on his shoulder.

  “I’m not back!”

  That freaking smirk morphed into a megawatt grin as he rubbed the spot where I’d hopefully left a bruise. “She’s back.”

  “I’m not back! But tell me why a magazine reported you were deaf when—”

  He crossed his thick arms over his chest, regarding me humorously. “When what?”

  “You can hear.”

  “I can.” He bent at the waist and leaned in close. “With hearing aids.”

  I threw my hands out to the sides. “That’s not deaf!”

  He tipped his head to the side. “I wasn’t aware you got your medical license over the last few years.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, mirroring his posture, only I was sporting a scowl instead of a smile. “It’s good to see you’re still a liar.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Liar? How exactly do you figure that?”

  I was becoming more and more annoyed. Mainly because I wanted to be annoyed but couldn’t manage it due to my overwhelming relief that he could still hear. But also because, with every word he spoke, I realized just how much I’d missed him over the years. Unfortunately, I also couldn’t forget how much he’d hurt me.

  And, just like a switch had been flipped, I was suddenly able to overcome the annoyance and longing. I replaced it with anger—irrational, juvenile, straight-up-bitch anger. I wasn’t above a low blow.

  Mocking a deep voice, I said, “I can’t protect you, Liv. I’m a failure, Liv. Hey, let me get my kicks out of scaring the fucking piss out of you, Rocky.” I spat his nickname for me like a curse. Dropping the voice and stepping toward him, I poked his chest with my finger. “Yes, Quarry. You’re a liar. You’re also a coward. And I hate you for it. And I hate myself because, even knowing all of this…I’ve still missed you.”

  The shit-eating grin disappeared from his handsome face, but it didn’t make me feel better in the least. The remorse left behind was staggering.

  I didn’t cry, but as I stared into his haunted hazel eyes, I still wiped my face because I was sure the tears were on their way.

  I wanted to go back for another verbal jab, just to make him hurt, but my voice broke. I couldn’t do it. No matter how mad I was.

  “I never should have come here. I’m glad to see you aren’t deaf,” I called over my shoulder as I headed for the gym door.

  I didn’t get but two steps away before his arm snaked around my waist and pulled my back against his chest. I didn’t fight him. Sure, he was more than twice my size, so there was no use anyway. But, honestly, I just liked the way I felt in his arms.

  “You’re right,” he gritted out. “I was a coward. I was also a thirteen-year-old boy who had no idea how to deal with the fact that the woman I consider a mother had been kidnapped and my brother had been paralyzed. I was fucked up, Liv. Christ, I’m still fucked up. Thirteen, seventeen, eighty. That shit was enough to screw with anyone’s head regardless of age.”

  “That’s not an apology!”

  “I see you didn’t read my letters.”r />
  “I see you’re a moron,” I bit back. It didn’t make much sense, but with him so close, it was all I could come up with.

  “I apologized a million times in those letters.”

  “I didn’t want your apology then.”

  “But you want it now?”

  “Yes! I mean…no.” I sucked in a deep breath and tried to cling to some semblance of composure. I wasn’t there to make up with my best friend.

  As far as I was concerned, those didn’t exist.

  I was only selfishly attempting to quell my own anxiety. “Look, I didn’t come here to rehash this. It happened. I just came because I thought you were deaf.”

  “I am deaf.”

  “Oh my God! Quit lying! If you just heard me say that, you aren’t deaf!”

  His whole body stiffened behind me, and his arm flexed around my stomach. “You can sling whatever fucking insult you want at me, and I will happily take them all from you. I’m an asshole for locking you in that closet. I’m a dumbass who sent you a million goddamn letters in order to apologize. I’m also an idiot who even went so far as to tell your dad what happened, hoping for some kind of help in delivering those same damn letters.”

  Now that was a surprise. It also explained why my mom had lied about our little excursion.

  “You told my dad?”

  “Yep. And trust me—not my smartest decision. He. Was. Pissed.”

  A giggle slipped out when I tried to imagine how that conversation had gone down.

  “What I am not is a liar. I won’t even take that shit from you, Rocky. Yes, I can hear you now, but if I take these hearing aids out, I wouldn’t be able to understand a damn word you said. I can still hear noises, but I’m useless with words. Five weeks ago, they vanished. And doctors are predicting even the noises will be gone soon enough.”

  “Oh.” My cheeks heated with embarrassment.

  “Yeah. Oh.” His arm fell away as he took a step in front of me, fisting his wrapped hands on his hips. “You had three hours on the ride down here. I figured you’d have at least read the article.”

  Hmm. I should have read the article.

  “I was worried,” I snapped, holding his glare.

 

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