Fearless

by Maya Rossi

  “You don’t have to wash those, I will throw it out, anyway.”

  “Then you wouldn’t mind me giving it to Michael,” she said cheekily.

  Brayden raised a questioning brow Ryan’s way.

  Ryan shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

  “One of her strays?”

  “You bet.” He tilted his head back and groaned loudly. “Dammit, you hit like a girl.”

  Brayden scoffed. “And you fell like a rock.”

  “Didn’t know you’ll get this mad--”

  “Seriously?”

  Ryan jumped from the bench and paced. “Isaac, he threatened me all right? There was nothing I could do.”

  “What are you talking about?” Deborah emerged from the door connecting the gym to the main house. With her blonde hair trailing down her back and her slender frame straight as a ruler, she looked ready to take on a thousand Isaacs. “What happened?”

  Ryan highland rubbed a hand down the side of his face. Leaning forward, he gripped Brayden by the neck putting pressure until they pressed their foreheads close. “I’m sorry brother. I’m a fool, never been smart like you--”

  “Stop.”

  “You’re so much. It kills me that this is happening--”

  “Highland,” Brayden growled.

  Ryan pulled away and it shocked Brayden to see tears in his eyes. With a soft cry, Deborah ran over to hug him from behind. Reaching down to take off his shoes, Brayden tried to give the couple some privacy.

  “I threw a fight for a hundred thousand,” Ryan stated flatly. “Was paid in cash, crisp dollar bills. It was the most money I had ever made in my life.”

  Stunned, Brayden stared at his best friend unblinking. “What?”

  “It happened early in my career. I think I was twenty or twenty-one.”

  “It was Isaac, wasn’t it?” Brayden surmised.

  “That idiot Foreman,” Deborah cried bitterly.

  “Against who?” Brayden asked.

  Ryan grimaced. “Does it matter? I’m ashamed. If it gets out--”

  “You’re fucking ruined,” Brayden snapped. “That’s why I need to know. Against who?”

  “Ortiz.”

  Brayden barked out a short laugh. “Dude, you’re unbelievable. You listened to me moan about the illegal punch he took that gave me shoulder problems and said nothing?”

  “It wasn’t an illegal punch professionally,” Ryan muttered.

  “Fuck,” Brayden hissed. “Fucking fuck,” he shouted louder.

  Deborah wrung her hands, casting a helpless look in the door's direction. “You will wake Amy, I’m sorry.”

  Brayden turned on his best friend. “Fucking say that to my face.”

  Jaw set into a stone-like rigidity, Ryan walked up until he was right in his face. Grinning, he arched an eyebrow. “Princess, professionally and objectively, the punch was unfortunate but not illegal.”

  Incensed, Brayden shoved Ryan off him, but Ryan fully expected the hit and expertly defended himself by ducking low and leaning up to deliver a classic punch to his under jaw. Brayden returned it and the fight turned into a brawl.

  Deborah studied her fingers which had never been manicured in her life and said, “If you two are done fighting, you can listen to me do you the favor of settling this pointless quarrel.”

  They broke apart, panting.

  “Brayden, there are two sides to every situation, especially when you care about the person, the professional objective side and the personal one. You pay your employees at the foundation for the professional one.”

  Why did she remind him of Ava suddenly? Brayden grabbed a bottled water from the pack and downed it. “Thanks,” he muttered to Deborah.

  She gestured at her husband. “See? That’s how gentlemen do.”

  “Just get to the point,” Ryan retorted.

  “You both gave each other illegal punches during the fight. I can’t believe I’m lecturing you on your profession but you know referees make split decisions to either roll with the illegals or make a big deal out of it. The ref that night let things go so the audience could enjoy the fight without controversy. No one knew he had badly injured you with his illegal punch.”

  “So, he did a better job than me then when he had the opportunity?” Brayden asked.

  “In a way, yes.” Ryan grabbed the rest of the water from him and downed it. “Man, I didn’t want to rain on your parade while you cried like a girl over that small punch.”

  Brayden threw a towel at his head. “Our sport is too brutal, anything can happen. How many boxers have died from injuries sustained in the ring this year alone?”

  Ryan grinned. “Admit it, you want an excuse to start a ‘goodness’ cause for the widows of dead boxers. Come to think of it, you and Deborah can make great partners. Good and good set to take on evil and conquer the world.”

  It was Deborah’s turn to throw an empty water bottle at her husband. As they rough housed and rolled across the canvas, Brayden’s thoughts went to Ava. He had allowed his inherent distrust of her profession cloud his judgement. What had she said about Eddy when explaining that article? He hadn’t even listened, just blown her off.

  If he listened would his opinion change?

  “Seriously guys, I have an important announcement to make.” Deborah sat on Ryan’s stomach and crossed her legs. Brayden laughed at the look of oppression on Ryan’s face. She smacked his chest lightly. “Listen up.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “You’ve been best friends for how long? Two years?”

  “Three years,” Brayden corrected.

  “Three years seven months,” Ryan retorted. At their shocked glances, he shrugged. “It was an important day in my life, so…” he trailed off.

  “Brayden would have been the godfather of my children if he hadn’t refused. Anyway,” Deborah continued, “Ry used to jokingly point out how this boxer is fucking this one, this and this are best friends, this and this are stepbrothers. My question is, do you have to hide your friendship?”

  “Dude,” Brayden said.

  “Bro,” Ry returned with a laugh.

  Deborah smacked his chest again. “Expatiate.”

  “Teaching Amy is fucking with your brain, who says ‘expatiate’.”

  “Every fight is a numbers game.” Brayden sat on the canvas and crossed his legs. “How many people will see a fight between two friends and longtime enemies?”

  “It sucks,” Deborah said immediately.

  “Yes, it does but we mean no harm, we’re just making money.” Brayden grabbed another bottled water.

  “More like deceiving the public. I wish a very good reporter will expose you both,” she said.

  “Awww,” Ryan moaned theatrically, “whose side are you on?”

  “The side of the truth.”

  After having a swell time talking and laughing about inane matters with two people very close to him, Ryan saw him home. The run was languid and cooling after their sparring. Ryan suddenly stopped.

  “Man, it’s enough. Think about your shoulder.”

  “You’re going soft,” Brayden retorted.

  For the next five minutes, Ryan got really quiet. An unusual occurrence that had Brayden jabbing his side with a soft, “Hey.”

  “We can’t put off this fight for much longer, you know right?”

  Brayden shook his head. “I don’t want to fight you.”

  “Pretend we’re sparring. We’ll totally put on a show.”

  He stopped and grabbed Ryan’s shoulders. “He’s still threatening you?”

  “I’m just under a lot of pressure. It’s too much, man, I can’t hold off for much longer.”

  “You’ve been against this fight more than I have and now you’re just going to give in?”

  “I’m not the one with a reporter printing incendiary articles guaranteed to light a fire under the asses of our fans. I would think you want to get this over with. Settle this shit those articles resurrected.”
<
br />   “I won’t be manipulated, Ryan.”

  “We don’t always get what we want.”

  “I do, I pay my way. Always. I won’t be denied my due.”

  “We don’t always get what we deserve, remember that.”

  Chapter thirteen

  The sight of his tiny stepsister never failed to send punch through his gut. Brayden sucked his breath as he eyed the bicycle she rode almost a mile in just to see him. In no mood to chat, he gave his doorman a brusque nod and spent the ride up the elevators psyching himself up.

  She threw herself into his arms the moment the door opened. Brayden grunted, cradling the soft bundle in his arms gently. The smell of vanilla and baby powder hit his nostrils and his stomach roiled. He dropped his arms and stepped back.

  Ignoring her hurt look, he edged past her to the kitchen. “How’s finals coming?”

  She waved off his question with a laugh that set his teeth on edge. “It doesn’t matter. How are you, after the madness that was the YES awards?”

  “Great.”

  “Why do you hate Ryan so much? I think he’s totally hot.”

  Did he speak like this at her age? Brayden was sure he didn’t. Mother would have beaten the language and attitude out of him, anyway. “He’s just a regular dude.”

  She arched an eyebrow, rolling a strand of hair same shade of dull brown as Mother’s around her finger. It was a wonder of unexplained genetics that the same features came out washed out in Sarah produced a stunning beauty in her look alike daughter.

  “What?” he queried at her questioning look.

  “I asked if you thought you were a regular dude.”

  “Sure.” Brayden tugged at the collar of his t-shirt. God, he needed air.

  “The girls in my class watch boxing because of you and have your poster in their rooms. They think you’re even hotter because you have no tattoos, nothing to mar the perfection.”

  She followed him to his room and sat on the bed, watching him expectantly. What did she want? “I need to change.”

  Her face fell. Awkward and slightly ashamed for causing her pain, Brayden stood holding on to his shorts until she left. If only she didn’t look like Sarah, would it have made it easier?

  After an invigorating bath, Brayden was disappointed to find her camped on his couch, reading a book waiting for him. As he headed to the kitchen, she jumped and followed.

  “I made you something, I know you don’t eat at those things — why did you even go, you’ve never gone before?”

  “Your mind works like a quick combination jab, too fast.”

  Hannah laughed, blue eyes so like Sarah’s alight with delight. Brayden swallowed thickly and glanced away. “So, why did you go?”

  “PR,” he muttered around a bite of food.

  She looked so excited at having him eat her food that Brayden didn’t have the heart to tell her she was no chef. He forced himself to eat every bite.

  “PR? That was a disaster. You like the food?” she asked in a high voice.

  Brayden nodded and quickly shoveled in food to avoid the next question.

  She sighed dramatically. “Acting like that was so unlike Ryan it disappointed me.”

  “Why do you like him, you’ve never met?”

  “Oh, God. He’s so cool. If I was the betting kind like the guys, I’m sooo putting my money on him. Not against you though,” she laughed. “He’s so cool with his beautiful daughter, Amy and normal wife. Like she’s no supermodel, but she’s just right.”

  “Right,” he returned faintly.

  “Like everyone can’t wait to watch you both fight but they’re kind of divided because you’re like the most liked boxers in the division. Some are like, if Ryan doesn’t want to fight him, it’s good. He’s a good guy we don’t want him beaten and others are like he pretends he’s brave. And some are like, I can get through cancer because Marshall makes me believe I can do anything, let him win.”

  “They think that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s crazy but inspiring, you know. And as your biased sister, knowing how cool you are, like really are, that it isn’t some PR feeding us bull shit, it makes it like super inspiring.”

  “That’s a lot of different threads going nowhere fast.”

  “Totally right? Like there are so many stories but no one really knows the truth.”

  The truth. Ava was right.

  “Hey, why are you dressed like you just had the fight of your career and not in your dress shirt.” Her mouth dropped open in a horrified gasp. “Don’t tell me you guys took it outside or something.”

  Brayden gave a pained chuckle. He had never been a good liar. “Look--”

  The doorbell interrupted him and Brayden almost deflated with the force of the relieved breath that left his lungs.

  Hannah’s eyes widened theatrically. “So many firsts today.”

  “What’s the other one?” he asked idly, as they walked to the door. Well he walked, Hannah sort of tumbled along in his wake. Brayden pulled the door open.

  “You actually had a conversation with me — wow. That’s Ava Miller.”

  Ava glanced from him to Hannah, looking unsure of her place in his life. Brayden hated it. Instinctively, he opened the door wider.

  Smiling at Hannah, Ava held out her hand. “Hi, you must be Hannah.”

  Hannah gasped so loud, her breath hit him like a gust of wind. “He talked about me?”

  Confused but cautious not to step on any toes, Ava shot him a quick glance. “Yes, he did?”

  “Are you his girlfriend?” Before Ava would reply, she turned to an exasperated Brayden. “Is she your girlfriend?”

  Without pausing for breath, Hannah continued, “You don’t love him if you would write those things about him. He’s a champion not a coward. Undefeated champ! I’m sure he has his reasons for not fighting Ryan.”

  Ava smiled, surprising him. “I realize that now--”

  “Actually, she was just doing her job, Hannah.” Brayden held Ava’s gaze as he continued, “Remember what you said about there being lots of stories but no one knowing the truth?”

  Ava’s breath caught and her gray eyes went liquid with unshed tears. Frozen in the doorway, they stared at each other for a second. They were so many things Brayden wished to say but couldn’t.

  “Erm, you’re totally having a moment and I’m in the way, I’ll just--” Hannah grinned. “I’m totally not listening, just go… ahead with… whatever.”

  With a laugh that lighted up the dark recesses of his heart, Ava said, “Are you sure you’re related?”

  The question was enough to destroy his good mood. “You might as well come in.”

  “Why, thanks for your gracious invitation.”

  “He can be really grumpy but he’s all soft inside,” Hannah urged.

  She looked so eager to have Ava think highly of her brother. “You’re adorable.”

  “You’re beautiful, huh? I’m sorry?” she winced. “I was sort of thinking about that when we first met and I sort of had to defend my brother.”

  “I don’t need defending from a teenager but thank you,” Brayden retorted grumpily.

  In a loud whisper, Hannah gestured. “See?” Suddenly diffident, Hannah walked over to sit by him. Hesitantly, she reached for Brayden’s shoulders and drew back. “I’m graduating valedictorian and I want nothing more than for you to come. Please tell me you’ll come please?”

  He would break her heart. Brayden forced a smile. “I don’t have to be there. I can set up a trust fund for you, I’ve been thinking about that and--”

  She went white. “Please? Don’t.”

  Hannah grabbed her bag. “Bye Ava.”

  “Our visit always end the same way and yet she keeps coming back.” Brayden got out his phone and called his driver to tail Hannah.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was out of sorts, out of control and rapidly unraveling. He could feel it. If only there was some magic wand, he could wave to take his l
ife back to before. Soft hands settled on his temple and began kneading. With a groan, Brayden gave himself over to Ava’s ministrations.

  “Thank you,” he said with a sigh and closed his eyes.

  Brayden blinked his eyes open, momentarily disorientated in the dark. He took a moment to get his bearings not knowing how long he’d slept. Lying with her head on his lap, was Ava. Brayden grabbed his phone to check the time.