The Undisputed Series

by Teague, A. S.

  Tripp dropped his arm and took a step away as he made gagging noises. “Please, God, don’t say anything more.”

  Rebecca bumped him with her hip and blew me a kiss before sauntering into his office, Tripp trailing behind. I watched her go, her ass swaying in one of the pencil skirts she loved to wear, and offered up a silent prayer of thanks for the creator of stiletto heels.

  Once she was out of sight, I turned my attention to Max and barked out his name. “Hit the showers and then meet me in the locker room.”

  I watched as he swallowed hard, his eyes full of trepidation as he climbed out of the cage and headed to shower.

  Good.

  I didn’t want the boys to be afraid of me, but a little bit of intimidation at times was good for them. Especially the ones who were talented. Couldn’t let them think that because they had some talent, they were suddenly invincible or didn’t have to listen to authority.

  I was sitting on a bench waiting for him when he emerged just five minutes later, dressed and toweling off his hair. When he saw me waiting for him, he froze and stared at me like a deer in headlights.

  “Max, I’m not gonna bite, dude. Come sit down.” I slid down the bench and patted the spot beside me.

  He nodded and shuffled over, not making eye contact with me as he flopped onto the bench. I eyed him carefully, noticing the stiffness of his posture, the way his fingers fiddled with the edge of his gym shorts, and the slight tremble of his hands.

  He was nervous.

  Good.

  “Rebecca says you’ve got something to tell me?” I prodded, my voice guarded. I didn’t want him to be terrified, but I wanted him to stay on edge. I knew that if I let him think I was anything other than still upset with him, he’d more than likely not tell me the truth about things. And I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily.

  Even if he had extenuating circumstances, he still had no right to say the things he said to a six-year-old child. My daughter or not, she didn’t deserve to be made fun of and he needed to learn right here and right now that that kind of behavior was not going to be tolerated or accepted in my gym or in life.

  I wasn’t there to punish the kid for what he’d said. I was sitting there to teach him a lesson and hoped he was smart enough to use that knowledge in the future the next time he got the urge to be rude and callous because he was having a bad day.

  He cleared his throat and began to speak, “Yes, sir. I––”

  I cut him off. “There’s something wrong with your neck?”

  He jerked his head to where I sat. “No, sir.”

  “Then why are you looking at the floor and your hands and everywhere except for me?”

  His eyes widened. “Oh, uh, I dunno.”

  “When you’re talking to someone and it’s about something important, you look them in the eye. You don’t stutter and stare at the floor. You got it?”

  He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  I jerked my chin up. “Go on.”

  His eyes squeezed shut as he steeled himself and then opened them again and pinned me with a stare I approved of. “Ryker, sir. I’m really sorry about the things I said to Hattie. And I’ve already told Ms. Rebecca that I’m gonna apologize to her as soon as I can.”

  “Mm-hm,” I said.

  His hands clasped together, and I cut my eyes enough so I could see him squeezing the blood out of his fingers. “Anything else you need to tell me?”

  “Did Ms. Rebecca tell you about my dad?”

  I thought about how to answer. She’d told me most of it, but I wanted to hear it from him. “She told me the gist of it. Why don’t you elaborate?”

  His gaze had been trained on me, but he looked away and swallowed hard. My chest squeezed when he looked back in my eyes, his own shimmering with tears that threatened to spill over. I watched him carefully as his nostrils flared and his Adam’s apple bobbed. He worked hard to keep the tears at bay, but one still managed to escape, rolling halfway down his cheek before he swiped at it angrily.

  I grasped his shoulder and squeezed. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

  He nodded.

  “I’d been suspended from the league eighteen months earlier for something I didn’t do. I’d lost everything, spent every penny of my savings taking care of my Gram. There wasn’t a gym in the country that would even speak to me. Breccan and I had bad blood, but I held my head up high and walked through the doors and asked for a job. I’d never begged for a damn thing in my life, but I begged for that job.” I shook my head at the memory and then looked back at where Max was listening to me intently. “Tripp took a chance on me. I went home that night and told my Gram and then went to bed and cried. I cried tears of relief. I cried tears of fear. I cried for the career I thought was long since over. I lay there and cried until I was spent. Then, I went to sleep. When I got up in the morning, I went to work.”

  I flexed my fingers, squeezing his shoulder again, and leaned in. “There is nothing wrong with those tears, son. Those tears mean you’re human. They show me you have feelings, that you care about something. And most importantly, those tears make you a better person. You don’t ever have to hide your emotions from me. Or from anyone. Because everyone is entitled to his feelings. Yeah?”

  Max didn’t respond, but another tear escaped his eyes and this time as it rolled down his cheek, he didn’t wipe it away, just let it go until it dripped onto his shirt. We sat there together in the quiet locker room, Max silently crying while I patted his shoulder. I couldn’t begin to know what he was thinking about, but as I sat there watching this child who wanted so badly to be a man cry, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was a reason Rebecca had fallen in love with him six years ago.

  Chapter Five

  Rebecca

  Max had come home with Ryker and they had both been all smiles that night, Max enjoying Gram’s cooking with more enthusiasm than I’d ever seen from him. We’d sat around the dinner table after he’d apologized to Hattie and he’d made the girls laugh all night long.

  It had been an amazing few days, Max fitting in with the family like he’d always been there. He’d been quiet, not really opening up to us much more than he had that day at the gym, but he’d been sweet with the girls, especially Hattie.

  And like children are so good at doing, she’d forgiven him easily, letting the words he’d said to her become a distant memory. Cinny had made it her mission to keep Max in shape at home and I’d had to threaten to punish her if she didn’t stop trying to wrestle with him nonstop. Ellie had been her usual nosy self, asking him questions about everything, but to his credit, he’d managed to answer most of them in a way that a six-year-old child who had never known hardship could understand.

  I was watching them play a video game in the living room when I felt someone come up behind me. I turned to see Gram settling into a seat at the table.

  I offered her a smile. “Hey, Gram. Can I make you a cup of tea?”

  She shook her head and looked past me. “That boy means something to you, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “He does.”

  She patted the spot on the table beside her. “Come sit and talk to me for a bit.”

  I stole one last glance at the kids, smiling to myself as I overheard Ellie teasing Max about losing the game they were playing, and then settled into the seat beside Gram.

  When I rested my arms on the table, Gram covered my hands with her own and I studied the gnarled fingers that were riddled with arthritis. These fingers were stiff and sore most of the time, and yet, they were still the softest hands I’d ever felt. They didn’t work the way they once had, but it didn’t stop her from using them to show us how much she loved us all. Gram used her hands to feed us, cooking Southern recipes that were sure to clog our arteries, but never failed to fill us with warmth and happiness. The twisted fingers that were riddled with liver spots were the same hands that had managed to raise an amazing man, all on her own.

  I lace
d my fingers through hers and smiled up at her. “You have the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen.”

  Her lips tipped up just barely enough for me to notice as she looked at our clasped fingers. “Oh, please, honey. These old things have seen much better days.”

  I shook my head. “Maybe so, but it only serves to make them better, not worse.”

  She squeezed my fingers. “Tell me what you’re gonna do with that boy in there.”

  I dropped my head and sighed. “I don’t know, Gram.”

  “Of course you know, sweetheart,” she quipped, her voice somehow soft and full of steel at the same time.

  “I don’t.”

  “Girl, look at me.”

  I raised my head and looked into her sharp blue eyes. The look on her face was one I knew well. She was about to give me the what for and I braced myself.

  “You’re Rebecca Toler Hawke.” She pulled her hands from mine and sat back in her chair. She continue the lecture, wagging her crooked finger at me. “There has never been a problem you didn’t know how to solve. You took one look at my Barney and set to work mending his broken heart. You pulled at the thread of his life that had become unraveled and managed to weave it back together, giving him a life that was infinitely more beautiful than the one he’d thought he’d lost. So, don’t you tell me you don’t know what you’re going to do with that kid in there. Because you know exactly what needs to be done for him. So, wipe that tear and get up and do it. For him and for you.”

  I hadn’t even realized I was crying but did as I was told and ran a hand over my face, blowing out a breath in the process. Gram was many things, but the one thing she was more than anything else was the wisest person I’d ever met. She seemed to have a sixth sense and always knew the exact thing to say to put everything into perspective.

  I studied her wrinkled face and my heart squeezed as I realized how old she was. I didn’t know how many more of these lectures we had left, but I vowed to myself to always take them to heart. Even if I didn’t know what she was trying to tell me.

  I pushed away from the table and lied, “Okay, Gram. I know what I’m going to do.”

  Gram grinned right back and leaned forward, resting her forearms on the edge of the antique table that had been in her family for years. “That’s my girl.” She peered up at me. “Before you go, though, I think I’ll take that cup of tea.”

  * * *

  My hand trembled as I dialed the number to the department of social services. My voice shook when I asked for the case worker in charge of Max Galloway. And when the woman’s pinched voice came across the line, my heart squeezed when I told her my story.

  It had taken me a full hour to work up the nerve to call, not knowing what to expect. I’d never really been afraid of taking action in the past, but this was different. This was a child I cared about, and his fate was something I seemingly had no control over. I knew the moment I told them where he was, they would come and get him and the fear of not knowing where he would end up caused the anxiety I’d never experienced before.

  After I’d disconnected the call, I blew out a deep breath and called Max into my office. He padded up the stairs in socked feet, his hair disheveled not from being unkempt, but from wrestling on the floor with my girls. In a matter of two days, he’d fallen right into the family, never tiring of being a jungle gym for the girls, always using manners when talking to Gram, and even taking on the role of Prince’s primary caregiver.

  It broke my heart to tell him to close the door and have a seat, the uncertainty he was feeling written all over his innocent face.

  “Max, we need to talk for a minute,” I told him softly once he settled himself into the chair beside my desk.

  He swallowed hard and nodded but didn’t say anything else.

  I straightened my spine, reminding myself I had to be strong because he would look at me for cues on how to react. If I was falling apart, he would too. “Honey, I just talked to the social worker.”

  His face fell, and it was an effort to continue without letting my voice crack. “She’s on her way here to pick you up.”

  I reached for his hand, but he pulled it away and leapt to his feet. “You sold me out?”

  The words held so much betrayal I recoiled as though he’d slapped me. I knew that’s exactly what it looked like, but it was so far from the truth. “No! I would never sell you out. But, Max, you’re a runaway.”

  “Yeah!” he shouted. “Because that place was terrible. You don’t understand!”

  I pushed to my feet, positioning myself between him and the door he was inching toward. “You’re right.” I held up my hands. “I don’t understand. I’ve never been there. I have no idea what its’s like. And I believe you when you say it’s terrible. But––”

  “But what? But you’re tired of me being here? You’re sick of having to take care of me? I’m nothing but a burden? Stopping you from living your life?”

  My stomach clenched as he spat the words at me. I knew instantly they were words he’d heard before. Along with the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me, a simmering rage began to run through my veins.

  His father.

  That had to be who’d said that to him.

  “Max,” I whispered, “I would never ever think those things.”

  He cut his eyes away and mumbled, “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be the first person to get tired of me.”

  I wanted to get in my car and drive to the jail Joseph Galloway was being locked up at and break in just to claw his eyeballs out of his head. How could he say those things to this child? His child?

  I took the short step to him and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He’d hit a growth spurt recently, so he wasn’t much shorter than me. I didn’t even have to stoop to be able to meet him in the eyes as I said, “You are not a burden. To me or to anyone. I don’t ever want to hear you say that about yourself again. I don’t care what anyone else has said, you are wonderful and special and deserve to be loved and taken care of.”

  His shoulders sagged. “You’re the only one who thinks that.”

  “Not true!” I snapped, the sharp edge of my voice surprising him. “Ryker tells me all the time how proud of your progress he is. Gram told me earlier that you were quite a sweet boy. And the girls clearly adore you.”

  He eyes hardened. “But you’re still sending me away.”

  It hurt.

  The anguish in his voice cut deep.

  The disappointment in his eyes caused a burning in my gut.

  Here was a fourteen-year-old boy who had probably experienced more sadness in his life than I had in all my thirty-six years.

  “Do you understand that if I didn’t call and tell them you were here, and they found out, we could be accused of kidnapping? That Ryker and I would be in trouble with the police.”

  His demeanor changed instantly. Gone was the angry kid who felt like I’d betrayed him. In his place was a soft-hearted child who didn’t want anyone to get in trouble on his behalf.

  “Oh,” he said softly.

  I grasped his arm tightly. “That does not mean I am abandoning you. I’m going to work hard to figure out a solution for you, one that does not involve the group home.”

  “Okay.”

  The doorbell rang and his face fell. I wrapped him in a tight hug, pressing my lips to his cheek. He hugged me back, his grip tight. I refused to let go, remembering a saying I once heard that you should never be the first to pull away from a child’s hug, because you never knew how badly they needed it. In this instance, I did know what this hug meant to him and I damn sure was not going to make him let go before he was ready.

  But all too soon, he loosened his grip and stepped away. “Let’s get it over with.”

  My stomach clenched, the look of resignation in his face chipping away at my resolve. “Max. Promise me you won’t run away again. If you do, I won’t be able to find you. Promise me.”

  He ducked his head, not meeting my eyes, and I wondered if t
hat had been his plan all along.

  “Max, look at me.” I tipped his chin up until we were eye to eye again. “Promise me. And I’ll make you a promise in return.”

  His eyes lit just a little. “What’s that?”

  “If you swear to me that you’ll stick it out, I promise you I will work nonstop to find a solution for you. I can’t tell you what yet, because, honey, I don’t know yet. But I swear to you, I will make sure you’re taken care of. Okay?”

  I wasn’t sure if he believed me, or if he thought I could do it, but he nodded anyway.

  “Have I ever let you down before?” I asked.

  His head shook. “You’re the only one who hasn’t,” he answered quietly.

  The doorbell rang once more and I groaned. “I’m not going to start now.”

  I pulled him in close to my side and arm in arm, we walked down the stairs to the front door where the social worker was waiting to take him away.

  As I watched him slide into the woman’s car, the tears I’d been keeping at bay for the last few hours finally won the fight and spilled over.

  I let them stream down my face as I watched the car pull away and when it was out of view and I could no longer see that Max was safe, I knew what Gram had been trying to tell me.

  Max belonged with us.

  It was up to me to make that happen.

  Chapter Six

  Ryker

  “Get your hands up!” I yelled.

  I’d been watching Mickey train for the last twenty minutes and every time his opponent got in close, he dropped his hands. If he did that during his title fight, he was going to get knocked out. The guy he was fighting in a few weeks was famous for his fists and I knew Mickey’s only shot at defeating him was to get him on the ground and submit him.

  He dropped his hands again and I blew a gasket. “Get your ass out of the cage!”

  Mickey shouted, “Fuck!” and stomped toward the door.

  Once he climbed down, he continued to stomp toward me. “Look, Ryk––”