Fighting Back (Fighting For Love Book 5)

by James, Marysol

  Adam had also been nothing but patient with him: he’d been standing in front of Nick this whole time, as steady and still as a rock. Nick had asked him to be here for his first attempt at walking with a prosthetic, and the man had agreed without one second of hesitation.

  Mia was nowhere close-by. She’d wanted to be here, of course, but Nick had begged her to wait until he’d practiced with his new leg a bit. She’d been hurt at first, he knew that, but they’d talked about it, and now he was sure she was OK with his request. She understood that he wanted to remain strong and masculine in her eyes – and whatever the hell it said about him, her seeing Nick go crashing to the ground over and over again was a humiliation that he wouldn’t be able to stomach.

  Not in front of her.

  “Nick?” Adam spoke again. “You want to sit down?”

  “No.” Nick shook his head, trying to dislodge the vision of the floor rushing up to meet his face. “I just – I’m sure that I’m going to fall, man.”

  “Probably.” Adam’s voice was low and calm. “And that’s why I’m here. I’m your safety net, Nick, and there’s no goddamn way that I’m letting you go down.”

  Nick nodded, stared at his prosthetic again. Tried hard to trust it to hold him up. Failed.

  “Nick?”

  He glanced up. “Hmmm?”

  “You trust me?”

  “Yeah.” Nick blinked, startled. “Yeah, completely.”

  “Then you believe me when I say that I’ll catch you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So… what’s the problem?” Adam said. “Is it falling on your face… or is it the act of falling itself?”

  Nick hesitated, then told the truth. “Falling, full-stop. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  “Why not?”

  Nick decided to just lay all the cards on the table. What was the point of being bashful now?

  “Because I feel like a pathetic weakling,” Nick confessed. “I hate needing anything from you – I hate feeling like less than an equal.”

  Adam regarded him. “Is that why you never told me about what was happening when you were visiting doctors?”

  “I – what?” Nick stared in confusion at the change in topic. “What?”

  “I love you like a brother, man, and you didn’t trust me with what you were going through back then.” Adam spoke softly, but Nick heard real anger and steel under the softness. “You didn’t trust me then, and nothing can be done to change any of that. I get that. But you can trust me now, Nick. I swear it. You can trust me to catch you when you fall, and you can trust me to not laugh or make a joke when it happens. Most of all, though, you can trust me with your weakness. I won’t think less of you for a moment of falling, and I sure as hell won’t think less of you for trying and failing.”

  Nick swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat. Fuck, Adam was going to make him cry. The bastard.

  “So.” Adam shifted his weight again, grounded himself better. “Take a step, Nick. Just one step. And trust that I’m here. I’m here for as long as you need me, and you don’t even need to ask. You just have to open up and trust me. I know that’s hard for you to do… but I’m asking you to do it anyway.”

  Nick swiped at his eyes, even gave a tiny sniffle. Embarrassed, he risked a look up at his best friend, his business partner, his brother. That was when he saw that Adam was tearing up, too.

  Which was a goddamn first. Never had he seen those hard blue eyes watery. Not even after Adam had been knocked from one end of a boxing ring to the other.

  “God, we’re a couple of chicks,” Nick muttered. “We gonna hug too?”

  Without a word, Adam stepped forward, embraced Nick. And Nick relaxed into the hug, just let his friend hold him up.

  Just for a few seconds.

  “OK, we’ve had our Oprah moment.” All brisk, all business dealt with, all bullshit set aside and dispersed of, Adam stepped back from him. “Now, enough goddamn pussy-footing around, man. Fucking walk.”

  Grasping the bars for balance, Nick stuck his left leg – his prosthetic leg – in front of him. Set the foot on the ground, paused, then moved his weight forward. He wobbled, he lurched, he lost it… and Adam reached out, as calm as you please, like he was reaching for something on a shelf, just reached out and caught him.

  Their eyes met, and they didn’t say a word. But Adam heard Nick thank him, and Nick heard Adam say to try again.

  So he did. And he stumbled again, his arms struggling to hold his weight… and Adam caught him. Over and over, one step at a time, back and forth along the walking area, Nick both looking and feeling like a baby learning to walk for the first time, until – miracle of all miracles – he stepped forward on the prosthetic… and it held him up.

  Nick stared over at Maisie, his gray eyes glinting with triumph. She smiled, nodded.

  “Good job, Nick,” she said, letting her professional tone slip just a bit. “You got it now. That first held step is the hard one, and from here on in, it gets nothing but easier.”

  “How’s it feel?” Adam asked.

  “Actually… OK.” Nick rocked back and forth on his feet, starting to really sense how his weight was distributed. Maisie had told him how lucky he was to still have his own knee joint, since it really helped with his flexibility and control, and he was now beginning to see the truth of that. “Again?”

  “You know it, man.” Adam scooted around Nick, and Nick turned to face the opposite end of the walking platform. “As many times as you need.”

  Nick nodded. “I need to get it right.”

  “So we will.”

  It took them three hours – three long, exhausting hours – but in the end, they did.

  They got it perfect.

  **

  Adam was back the next day, and he was back the day after that. He was there every day for five days in a row, for four-hour stretches each time. It took that long for Nick to feel OK with walking on his own – no bar or wall support, and by the end, no Adam to catch him.

  By the end, Nick didn’t need Adam to catch him.

  Not that his gait was smooth or refined. No, he limped. When he got tired or lost concentration, he lurched. Sometimes he looked drunk, frankly, and he gritted his teeth every time he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, as his inner perfectionist screamed at him to fucking get it right, for Christ’s sake.

  Nick stomped down hard on that critical voice; he just kicked it in the ass, and he made sure he was wearing steel-toed boots when he did. This wasn’t about perfection, he finally understood. This was about progression, and so long as he got up every day and became better than he’d been the day before, he was happy.

  It was Monday morning, and Mia was getting ready to go out and do some research interviews for her next book. Until this exact moment, Nick had used a cane around their apartment when she was there, though he’d staggered around caneless when he was alone. He hadn’t had the confidence to let her see him without that support… but he’d been practicing, and now he was ready to surprise her.

  Assuming he didn’t mess it all up.

  Mia came out of the bathroom, made-up and dressed and ready for her sorely-needed cup of coffee. She headed down the hall to the living room, and when she saw Nick, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  He was standing in the middle of the kitchen holding a cup and nothing else – not the wall, not the counter, not his cane. She saw steam rising from the cup, and she blinked at him, astonished at pretty much everything about this sight.

  “Nick?” she said.

  “Sit down, babe,” he said gesturing to the sofa with his chin. “Let me bring you your coffee.”

  “Uh.” She stood there like an idiot, feeling like she should go and retrieve the cup from him, but one look at his face told her not to do that. Nick looked so… hopeful.

 
; It had been a long, long time since she’d seen that look on his gorgeous face, and she was damned if she was going to do anything to risk wiping it off. So Mia did the only thing that was to be done.

  She turned and went to the living room, and she sat on the sofa.

  And if her hands were clenched together and twisting in her lap, well… she was nervous. She was nervous for him. She knew how much it meant for him to do this for her, and she found herself actually praying that he succeeded.

  Nick looked at Mia sitting bolt upright on the sofa, trying so hard to look calm and unruffled and failing so spectacularly, and his heart seized up with love for her. He knew that she longed to just launch herself at him, take the boiling-hot cup of coffee from his hand, find his cane, and gently ask him to sit down. She’d been nothing but patient and supportive, nothing but concerned and sweet… and he wanted her to finally just relax. Let him take care of her for the first time in a long time, even in just this small way.

  But dear sweet God, he hoped he didn’t dump a piping hot cup of coffee on her.

  She watched anxiously as Nick started to walk over to her, slowly and steadily, just putting one foot in front of the other. After three steps, her worry lessened; after seven, her worry was gone. In its place was amazement and by step twelve, he was standing at her side and Mia felt nothing but huge, overwhelming pride.

  Carefully, so carefully, he stretched out his arm and she reached up. He handed her the cup, and she took it with a bright, shining smile.

  “Thank you,” Mia said.

  “My pleasure.”

  She tipped her head back a bit farther, held his eyes. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, angel.” He bent from the waist, keeping his legs and back strong. His lips descended on hers in the lightest, softest kiss that Mia had ever known.

  Right away and helplessly, her eyes shut, her breath sped up. It had been a long time since she’d been with Nick – almost three months, actually. Since they’d moved in together, they’d stayed in the same bed every single night… but they hadn’t made love.

  They’d talked about it, of course, and Mia understood that Nick had first needed recovery time from his surgery, and now needed time to be comfortable with her in bed that way. She was willing to wait – hell, she’d wait with a smile if it meant that he was working through his feelings and thoughts, working his way back to her – but good Lord, she was only human. She was a flesh-and-blood woman with some serious needs… and Nick was one drop-dead sexy man. She also knew from past experience that he was the man to meet her needs.

  Every. Single. One. Of. Them.

  And more than once.

  He was the man that she longed for and it was hard to be so close to him, and not be with him. This tender kiss was like glimpsing paradise, and she didn’t want it to end.

  Nick smiled against her mouth, brushed her hair back. Her eyes opened and he stared into those molten golden depths. Jesus, he wanted to make love to her… wanted it more than he wanted his next breath. But he wasn’t there yet, and he didn’t want to push this and screw it all up.

  One small step at a time, man.

  “So,” Mia breathed. “You can bring me my morning coffee from now on, huh?”

  “I can.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Just say the word.”

  She smiled at him, so radiantly lovely, his breath caught.

  “Maybe you can get me some yogurt?” she asked him lightly. “If you don’t mind.”

  He turned, his balance perfect. “I don’t mind, babe.”

  She watched him walk back to the kitchen, marveling at the sight. Nick was walking, actually walking, and her eyes filled with tears. No sadness here, though, not even a tad. It was all fierce joy and even fiercer pride, all burning desire and love.

  “So,” he said as he opened the fridge. “I talked to Luke, and he said that there’s a group meeting tonight.”

  Mia sipped her coffee. “You want to go?”

  “Yeah. You mind?”

  “Nope, not at all. I’m happy you’re going.”

  Nick returned to the sofa carrying a container of yogurt and a spoon. “Luke invited me out for a beer after, so I’ll be home late, babe. Probably around midnight. That’s cool with you?”

  “Mmm-hmmm.” She accepted the yogurt, realizing that she was actually hungry for the first time in a long time. “I’ll stay up. Wait for you.”

  “You sure?”

  “Hell, yeah, I’m sure. I want to hear how it went with the guys.”

  “I don’t know how much I’ll say at the first meeting,” he said hesitantly. “I mean… I might just sit and listen.”

  “Listen,” Mia said, her face serious. “I know you find it tough to talk about things, babe, but please promise me that you’ll try tonight. OK? You don’t have to vomit every thought or feeling you have to a group of strangers, but say something. Just one thing, even. Can you do that? Please?”

  “For you?” Nick said in a teasing tone. “I’ll do anything.”

  She held out her hand, tugged him down to sit next to her. “It’s for you too, Nick. These guys… they really, really get what you’re going through. As much as Adam and I want to get it, we don’t, and we know it. Please – trust these guys, alright? Tell them everything, tell them anything – just tell them something.”

  “Alright, babe.” He kissed her again, feeling like he was sealing this promise to her. “I’ll talk tonight. I’ll do it for you and me. For us.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nick stood in the doorway, hesitating. He’d never been indecisive or wishy-washy, not in anything, and he was damned if he’d start now – but he found that he needed a few more seconds before taking the plunge and totally committing to entering the room.

  He looked around at the circle of chairs, at the coffee machine, at the large men huddled in groups and talking, and hoped hard that nobody would make eye contact with him. Not yet, anyway. Eye contact meant that he’d been spotted, and being spotted meant that this was real. That this was really happening.

  That it was all really happening.

  “Hey, man.” A voice behind him made him jump. Nick lost his balance a bit and cursed under his breath. “You comin’ in, or what?”

  Nick turned carefully, remembering to keep his weight evenly distributed and centered. Goddamn this prosthetic; despite all the gains and strides he’d made in using it, it was still like trying to feel something through anesthetic. It was just the edge of sensation, or the promise of it. He felt everything until the end of his stump, and then it was all about trusting the metal and plastic to bear his weight and move the way that he wanted it to.

  He didn’t trust it totally yet, though. Not even close to totally. It still didn’t feel right on his body – it was awkward and unnatural, to put it mildly – and he didn’t see how he’d ever, ever feel totally OK with it.

  But that was part of what being there was about, wasn’t it? To try to accept things as they were now?

  Nick stared at the man in front of him, and the guy stared back with strange silver eyes.

  Shit. Eye contact. Well, that’s that.

  “So,” the guy spoke again, his voice so rough that it could probably crush asphalt. “You joinin’ us?”

  “Uh.” Nick looked over his shoulder at the other men who were all looking his way now, too. “Yeah… yeah, I guess.”

  “C’mon, then.” The guy cocked his dark head, gave Nick a wide grin. “We’re startin’ in three minutes.”

  “Right. Um… OK.”

  The guy just stood there like he had all the time in the world, so Nick turned and took a careful step in to the meeting room. He felt the guy’s eyes watching him from behind, and he knew that his slight limp was duly noted. Every man in the place was watching him now, and he felt a flush moving across his face as they clocked his awkward
gait, his jaw clenched in effort, his widely swinging arms. He didn’t look up, not once, and instead just focused on getting to the closest chair.

  Step by agonizing step, Nick made his way over, praying to Christ that he didn’t wipe out on the slippery floor. Fuck, if he fell on his face in front of them, his wounded pride would never allow him to come back here. He knew that, knew it with everything that he had… and he also knew that if he stayed away, it’d be a huge mistake.

  He already knew that he needed these men, needed what they could give him and teach him. If he stumbled away, all shattered ego and tail between his legs, he’d never make it on his own.

  Nick got to the chair and lowered himself in to it with a grunt of effort. He flushed hotter and redder, hating his weakness and vulnerability. He dared to glance up, to look at the other men and as he did, he wished with every inch of his body that he didn’t see pity on any of those hard faces.

  Contempt or disgust he could handle, he thought, and even sympathy would be tolerable. Pity, though… pity might just finish him off.

  But he saw none.

  Instead, he saw genuine warmth and understanding. He saw bond and brotherhood. He saw men who got it, who really fucking got it, and who were already gearing up to be there for him.

  Nick wasn’t alone in this room. He knew that now.

  “Nick?”

  Startled for the second time in as many minutes, Nick jumped, swung his gaze to a man standing next to the coffee machine. He had dark hair that curled over his neck and forehead and hard blue eyes, and Nick relaxed immediately.

  “Hey, Luke,” Nick responded.

  “I’m glad you made it, man.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Luke strode across the room to greet him and Nick managed to pull himself to a standing position, though he swayed a bit. As if they’d been given permission to move, the other men started to come over to Nick as well, but for the moment, Nick gave his attention to Luke Rhodes.