Fighting Silence (26 page)

“What the fuck are you talking about? Nothing has changed. I still don’t have the time. Honestly, I think I need to give up boxing altogether. Maybe try to find another job or something.”

“I’ll bankroll eight hundred a week. Quit your jobs and come work for me in the ring. It comes with health insurance for you and the boys too.”

I stared at him, awestruck. That was double what I was bringing home each week.

I’d always heard that you couldn’t judge a man’s character by the balance in his bank account. Thank fuck for that because character might be the only place I wasn’t overdrawn. And right then, Slate’s offer sounded a whole lot like pity. No matter how appealing it sounded, I wanted to make it without having to rely on anyone else. I couldn’t afford to sacrifice character.

“Why are you doing this right now? What part of that conversation confused you? I don’t want your charity.”

“It’s not charity. I’m gonna make a shit-ton of money off your ass. This isn’t a free ride. I’ll get all of your winnings until you’ve paid me back. Then anything you make over that, I get thirty-three percent. Erica’s been eyeing this condo on the beach in Florida. I’m hoping you can help me out and buy that for her.”

Outstanding. Slate wants to buy a condo on the beach and I just want to keep the electricity on.

“It has to be hard being you.” My voice dripped with sarcasm, but it only made Slate smile.

“I guess you won’t know until you try. I made every single penny I have from boxing. If you think money will solve all your problems, then put whatever preconceived notions you have about my motives aside and take my offer. But if you decide to refuse, you should know I won’t make it again.”

“Why now? Less than a month ago, you told me I wasn’t ready. Where was your offer to bankroll me then?”

“I’m not going to lie to you. You’re not ready. Not if you want to be great! But with enough time, I can get you there. You’re raw right now, and despite whatever you think, you’re driven by something greater than the almighty dollar or dreams of stardom.” He stood up and walked over to me. “To answer your question about why now, I was wrong. You’re not hungry for more in life. You’re fucking
starving.
I can work with that.

“Did you even listen to yourself while you were talking? Not one single thing you said was because Till Page wanted more money or a nicer car. You were concerned about Eliza and the boys . . . but never Till.” He poked my chest right over my heart. “I’m making an investment in you, Till. It’s no handout. I believe you’re going to set the boxing world on fire, because every time you put on those gloves, you’re doing it for
them.
Say yes. Accept the offer. Quit your jobs. Take a week off to take care of her. Then get your ass in my ring.”

I had no words. If I spoke, I was going to look like a sniffling little bitch. So I nodded instead.

“Good. I’m going to find Erica and get some coffee. I’ll send over the contracts and your first paycheck in the morning.” He turned and headed for the door.

I stood in the middle of an empty hospital room where my fantasy and reality had collided. Finally, I had the break I had dreamed of, but it had taken almost losing Eliza to get it. I would forever remember the way I felt in that moment. Cracking my neck and shaking out my arms, I decided I was done letting the world run over me.

Slate had just handed me my one chance to make a better life, and I was going in with gloves blazing. For the first time in my fucking life, I was climbing through the ropes.

ONE CONCUSSION, TWO BROKEN RIBS, two black eyes, six stitches, and far too many purple bruises to count. But as I pulled an oversized On The Ropes T-shirt over my head and settled into Till’s bed, I was more concerned about him.

“You okay?” I asked as he folded into bed next to me.

His head snapped to mine. “Uhhh, are
you
okay? Why are you asking about me?”

“I don’t know. It’s been a crazy night.”

“It really has.” He sighed and pulled me into his side.

I winced from the movement. “And you’ve been acting weird.”

“Huh?” He leaned away to look down at my mouth.

Till had been hard of hearing for years.
Huh
and
what
were probably two of his most used word. Well, those and
fuck
—and maybe
Doodle.
But tonight had been vastly different. Several times, I’d spoken to him at the hospital and he hadn’t even acknowledged me. I’d prayed that he had only been lost in his thoughts, distracted by the entire fucked-up day. But I knew it my heart it was more.

So, instead of repeating my vague statement, I blurted, “Where were you tonight?”

It wasn’t an accusation, but even as it left my lips, it felt that way.

“Asleep. Shit, Doodle. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Eliza,” I corrected just to be positive we were in my reality and not his.

His lip twitched. “It’s just habit. Doodle or Eliza—it doesn’t change anything.”

I nodded, still not convinced.

“I have no fucking idea how I didn’t hear that shit in your bedroom. I wish you could have called my name or something. I’m so sorry I didn’t get there sooner.” His muscles tensed, and I blankly stared at him.

I was struck by the realization that Till had no idea what had really happened in my bedroom. He thought he’d slept through it, and the guilt on his face was staggering. There was no way in hell I was telling him that I’d screamed for him repeatedly or that I’d prayed his name over God’s as I’d roused back to consciousness. He didn’t need to know that.
Ever.

“You got there. That’s all that mattered.” I plastered on a fake smile that hurt my lips.

Only two nights earlier, Till had said, “Bless you,” when I’d sneezed. There was no possible way he could have slept through my cries for help. Something was going on, and I couldn’t decide which was more worrisome—the fact that his hearing had suddenly gotten a lot worse or that he didn’t even truly realize it yet.

To test the theory, I tucked my head low and kissed the muscular curve of his chest. I thought of one single statement that I knew would send Till scrambling. In a voice loud enough that he should have easily been able to make out, even without looking at me, I said, “I don’t think we should be together.” I lifted my head to catch his eyes with a questioning look. “Is that okay with you?”

His hazel eyes searched my face for the question as my own begged for a reaction to my false statement. All the while, I prayed that I was wrong.

“Yeah. That’s fine,” he soothed with a smile that splintered my heart.

My chin began to quiver. I didn’t care if Till Page went blind, deaf, mute, and dumb—but I knew
he
cared
.
I rolled over so he wouldn’t see me cry the tears he wouldn’t understand. With as many black eyes as I had broken ribs, I sobbed for the man whose strong arms held me safely tucked against his chest.

“Shhhh. I’ve got you. I swear on my life, Eliza. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” he whispered into my hair.

The day had been exhausting, and within minutes, the talking was done and sleep overtook us both. Till held me painfully tight, but I never once moved away. I needed to feel him as much has he needed to hold me.

“Till! Oh my God! Get up! It’s seven. You’re late for work.”

“Mmm,” is all he said as he flipped over onto his stomach.

“Get. Up!” I hit his back. “You didn’t set the alarm.”

“I’m not going to work today.”

“Are you fucking nuts? Get up! You don’t get paid if you don’t go to work.” I sat up and my entire body screamed. I felt nauseated, from the pain as my ribs revolted. “Oh, God.”

“What the hell are you doing? Get back in bed.” Till was suddenly on his feet and shifting my legs back under the covers.

“I was gonna make you some coffee. You have to go to work.” I groaned, holding my stomach.

The pain ebbed as I reclined onto my back. As long as I didn’t move, nothing hurt. I was about to take up permanent residence in Till’s bed. I could think of worse places to live though.

“Just be still. I’ll make you some breakfast. You’re good with ramen, right?” He smiled a teasing grin.

“You don’t have time to make me breakfast, and especially not ramen. You have to go to work!”

“I told you I’m not going to work today. So just relax and let me take care of you.” He put his hands on his hips, but his eyes were dancing with excitement.

“You can’t miss work. And why are you looking at me like that?”

“’Cause I have a secret,” he said proudly.

“Is it that you won the lottery? Because I will repeat: you don’t get paid if you don’t go to work.”

“I’m quitting my jobs.”

“Okay, I’m having you committed. Maybe it’s too many punches to the head or something, but you have definitely lost your mind.”

He barked out a laugh. “Nope. I got a new job.” His smile was so wide that I worried his lips wouldn’t be able to handle the stress.

“Um, what kind of new job?” I asked suspiciously.

“It pays double what I was making before. The boss is a good guy, although he can be a real asshole sometimes. It’s not far from here, so I’ll be able to save on gas money. Oh, and you’re off duty for taking the boys to the gym in mornings.”

“It pays double?”

“Eight hundred a week.” He continued with the weird smile and evasive answers.

“Stop screwing with me. What the hell kind of job is this?”

He seemed to be enjoying my frustration, but he finally spilled it. “Slate’s gonna bankroll me so I can go pro.”

“What?” I breathed in shock.

Somehow, Till’s smile grew impossibly wider.

“Shut up. Are you serious?”

“Yep.” The pride on his face as he answered with that one syllable was something I’d never seen him wear, but God, it fit him.

“Holy shit! Till, you’re gonna be a professional boxer!” I squealed, and he started laughing. “I want to hug you so bad right now, but I’m too afraid to move.”

The tears welled in my eyes, but for the first time in a long while, they were because I was
truly
happy. After years of busting his ass, Till was finally getting something he wanted. And it was huge.

“Get over here and hug me!” I demanded.

“Okay, okay. If you insist.” He crawled back into bed and gently wrapped his arms around me.

“You’re going to be amazing! I know it.”

“God, I hope so. Slate gave me the week off and said he’d send the contracts and my first check over today.” He kissed the unmarred corner of my mouth. “Let me take you out to dinner tonight. It will be like our first real date. Oh, hey. You want to get married? My new job has health insurance too.”

My heart stopped. I died. Croaked. Kicked the bucket. Bought the farm. All of it.

The amount of times I had dreamed of Till Page asking me to marry him, by all accounts, should have been embarrassing, but never once in my numerous dreams was the proposal ever followed by, “My new job has health insurance.”

“Um, did you just ask if I wanted to get married . . . so I could use your health insurance?”

“I asked you out on a date too. Don’t forget about that.”

“Okay, so I’m going to give you a little warning that will probably benefit you greatly in the future.” I painfully rolled to face him. “If you
ever
ask if I want to get married and it’s not followed by ‘because I love you eternally’ or ‘I can’t breathe without you,’ or hell, I will take ‘because your body has ruined me for all others’.”