Fighting Silence

by Aly Martinez

  “Eliza’s pregnant,” I blurted.

  Slates jaw dropped open as his mouth formed a shocked “O.”

  “We went to the doctor yesterday, and I. . . .” I paused because it was the first time I was going to admit my decision. I hadn’t even told Eliza yet. Up until that moment, saying it out loud had seemed too final. “They did this little ultrasound, and I couldn’t hear her heartbeat. I realized that I wouldn’t be able to hear her cry, or laugh, or talk.” I stopped to give myself time to let it really sink in. “All I can think about is what if she sounds like Eliza. Slate, I can’t miss that. You told me a while back that money is only as good as what it can give you. Well, it’s official. The incentive is no longer worth the sacrifice.” I sucked in a deep breath and finally threw in the towel. “I want the implant.”

  “Okay,” he said as if it were nothing.

  And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was the logical choice I had been fighting all along.

  “I’ve got some money in the bank, but it won’t last. I need this fight, Slate. My career is over, win or lose. Bum or champ, I don’t give a damn.”

  “So, that’s it? You just want the cash?”

  I shook my head. “No. I need it. I have no clue what the fuck I’m going to do after this. I don’t have an education or any great skill besides manual labor. I need this opportunity to set me up for a while. See what you can negotiate for pay. I’ll fight a dancing bear at this point as long as they put my name on a fat check.”

  “What if we take a different approach?”

  “Does your different approach allow me to hear my daughter when she’s born?”

  “No. But it will give you a long-term solution.”

  “Just spit it out,” I bit out as I began to lose my patience.

  “We refuse to step in that ring unless he puts the title on the line.”

  “He’ll never agree to that. He has too much to lose.”

  “Then we force his hand.”

  I tilted my head in confusion and motioned for him to continue.

  “If he’s already catching enough heat from this video to offer a rematch, let’s add some fuel to that fire. Let’s hit the media. We do a press release to tell the entire world how easy it truly is to crumble the invincible wall. Make it known that he won’t give you a shot at his belt because he’s scared of The Silencer. We’ll set you up some interviews and let the world get to know Till Page. We can make the public beg for this fight.”

  “I can do that,” I answered as I mulled over the possible scenarios.

  “But this is going to take time.”

  “Time is the one thing I don’t have.”

  “When’s Eliza due?”

  “Seven months.”

  “I need you to commit to one more year.”

  “A year?”

  “It’s two fights. We’re going to shame this asshole into offering up that title, and you’re taking it from him. Then you’re defending it. Then you’re getting the implant.”

  “Let’s assume I beat him. How much could I make in the next fight as the defending champion?”

  “Millions.”

  The sound of his word never made it to my ears, but I heard it all the same. It was the crystal-clear ringing of a lifetime of security.

  “Set it up,” I breathed.

  Slate clapped his hands together and jumped to his feet while I sat dazed counting dollars in my head. Millions of dollars.

  I sat with sweaty palms for hours as Slate made numerous phone calls between agents, attorneys, managers, and even trainers. In the end, going to the media wasn’t even necessary. When Slate told them that we would be willing to make concessions on pay in exchange for a title shot, they pounced. Considering the instantaneous hype of the fight, it would reel in at least thirty million, and with less than three hundred thousand dollars written into my contract, it would all go to Matthews.

  It was well worth the gamble though. They had no plans to pay me anything substantial for that fight, but with the title on the line, the dollar signs were infinite.

  Four months later . . .

  “HOLY. SHIT.” QUARRY SPUN WITH his arms stretched wide in the middle of our Las Vegas suite. Then he lost his balance and almost plowed me over.

  “Hey, dumbass.” Flint caught him by the back of his shirt at the last second. “Watch where the hell you’re going!”

  “My bad.” Quarry patted my stomach then excitedly went back to dancing around the room.

  “Christ. What did you pack, Eliza?” Till huffed then set down my three huge suitcases. “And what the hell is that?” He pointed to the small, pink bag with a pink B monogrammed on the side.

  “It’s Blakely’s bag—” I replied, and he captured my hands before I had a chance to completely finished signing my explanation.

  “Our unborn daughter, Blakely?” He bit his lip to stifle a laugh.

  “You can’t be too safe, Till. What if I suddenly go into labor while we are here? What would she wear home from the hospital?”

  “Well . . . we’re only gonna be here for seven days. If you went into labor, she would be three months early. We’d have way bigger issues than what she would wear home from the hospital.” He winked and dipped me back for a wet kiss.

  “Hey, I quit my job to be here. Don’t you dare get all snippy about what I packed.”

  His lips twitched. “You hated that job.”

  “No. I didn’t hate it.”

  His smile grew to full-blown.

  “I loathed it! Thank you.” I pressed an exaggerated, humor-filled kiss to his mouth.

  He laughed against my lips. “I love you.”

  “I was nervous about the flight, okay? It made me feel better to have a little bag for her just in case.”

  He teasingly pretended to bite at my hands as I signed.

  “Stop!” I hit his chest.

  “Um, I said I love you.” He kissed my forehead.

  “Oh, right. I briefly forgot how needy you are,” I teased. “I love you too.”

  Till began tickling me, and when I looked up, I caught Flint watching us. He smiled and quickly looked away. I made a note to talk to him later. He’d really been acting off recently, even more withdrawn that usual.

  There was a knock at the door, and Quarry darted over to answer it.

  “Dude, you are huge!”

  Slate laughed as he walked in with Leo, Johnson, and a new guy I didn’t recognize. But Quarry was right. He was huge.

  “Okay. Listen up!” Slate’s lip twitched, and Till shook his head at his attempted joke. “Leo’s running security for all of us this weekend. I know you’ve seen the hype, but this isn’t going to be like it is at home. You guys are celebrities here. You will be recognized. ”

  Till moved behind me and folded his arms around to rest on my stomach.

  “Do not leave this room without security. Period. This is Alex Pearson. He’s been with Leo for about a year, but this is his first trip with us. Please don’t scare him off. I’m talking to you, Q.”

  We all laughed, except for Quarry, who smiled mischievously.

  “I will repeat. Do not leave this room without one of them.” He passed us all a card. “Program all of their numbers into your phones. Leo will be with me and Till most of the time, but Alex and Johnson are all yours if you want to go out exploring or whatever. Erica will be here this weekend, along with Sarah and Liv.”

  “Liv!” Quarry shouted before slapping a hand over his mouth.

  Leo’s lip twitched, but he glared down at Q. “I’m watching you, boy.”

  Quarry bit his lip, but his smile showed past it.

  “Okay. Now that we have that out of the way, Till, get dressed. Let’s go check out the gym.”

  Slate walked out, leaving Leo, Alex, and Johnson to chat with Flint. Quarry went back to flittering around the suite.

  “You want to go out to dinner tonight?” Till asked me.

  I pointedly looked down at my stomach. “Like I’m gonna
say no.”

  He smiled then pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

  “Eliza, look! There’s a kitchen! You can cook for us here too!” Quarry shouted from over the bar dividing the rooms.

  I rolled my eyes, but my smile snuck out, giving me away.

  One Week Later . . .

  “QUINN.”

  “No.”

  “Queen.”

  “God no.”

  “Quillan.”

  “Uhhhh . . . I’m pretty sure you made that one up, so I’m going to stick with my original answer. No,” Eliza said, shooting me down for the hundredth time.

  “Come on!”

  “While I appreciate your efforts, we already picked a name.”

  “Blakely is stupid though. Everyone will end up calling her Blake for short. Q is a badass nickname.”

  “It’s also your nickname. Trust me. I don’t need to yell ‘Q’ any more than I already do. I can’t handle two of you.” She laughed as she scraped the mushrooms she had been slicing into a pan on the stove.

  “Oh, whatever. What are you cooking anyway?”

  “Hell if I know. Mushrooms just sounded really good.”

  “Plain mushrooms?” I curled my lip as I settled on the barstool across from her.

  “Yep!”

  “You’re disgusting.” I laughed just as someone knocked on the door. “Oh! I bet that’s our The Silencer T-shirts for the fight.”

  “God, I hope! They were supposed to be here yesterday.”

  I yanked the front door open, and a well-dressed man I didn’t recognize stood on the other side. His hands were shoved in his pockets of his jacket, and a bright, white smile covered his face.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Till. Is he around?”

  “Nope.”

  “Perfect,” he purred as he slowly pulled his hands out of his pockets, revealing a massive, green tattoo with the head of a dragon shooting red flames down his fingers—the same fingers that were poised on the trigger of a gun. “Quarry, I presume?” He used the tip of his gun to push me inside.

  As the door clicked behind us, I heard Eliza from the kitchen.

  “Who was it?” she asked just as we rounded the corner.

  I didn’t even have a chance to react before his arm quickly looped around my neck to rest the gun at my temple. Her eyes popped wide and her hands flew to her mouth.

  “Oh my God.”

  I was in absolute shock. I didn’t know this guy, but I was terrified—and not for myself.

  “It’s okay.” I tried to soothe her as my heart slammed around in my chest.

  “Who the fuck are you?!” the piece shit spoke to her, and it enraged me.

  “Um, who are you?” Her shoulders moved as if she were searching the counter, but the bar blocked our view of her body.

  “Get your fucking hands up!” he barked.

  It caused her chin to quiver and rage to radiate through me.

  “Eliza,” she answered slowly, lifting her hands in surrender.

  “Okay. Now, Eliza. Who the hell are you and where the fuck is Till Page?” He turned the gun on her.

  Even through my blinding fury, I knew that she did not need to answer that question.

  “She’s my babysitter. Till’s at the gym.” I quickly covered, praying to fuck he thought thirteen-year-olds still needed babysitters.

  “Okay. Well, Eliza, this could actually work out. I need you to deliver a message to our good pal Till. Call him and let him know that Frankie Dragon stopped by to close out some unfinished business. It’s imperative that he gets this message. Do you understand?” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was downright menacing.

  She quickly nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely. I’ll tell him.”

  “Great. Now, for insurance that this message is delivered in a timely manner, I’m taking Quarry with me.” There was a smile in his voice, but Eliza’s face slid to ghostly white.

  “No! I’ll deliver the message. I swear. Just leave him here.”

  “Yeah. That’s not going to happen.” He laughed. “I think Till’s going to need a little extra incentive for what I need. We all know how much he loves our little Quarry here,” he said condescendingly.

  A rush of relief hit me as the gun was turned away from her and aimed back against my temple.

  “Please don’t do this. Just leave him. I’m positive Till will do anything you want. You don’t need Quarry.”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I like my plan better.”

  I felt him shrug as he began to drag me backwards toward the door. I wasn’t struggling. I was all too willing to go with him if it got him out of that suite and away from her.

  “Stop! Wait! Please. I’m Till’s wife. Take me instead!”

  “No!” I screamed over her words, but it was too late.

  She ran from behind the counter, revealing her pregnant stomach and causing Frankie to gasp.

  “Just take me. Leave Quarry alone,” she cried.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I yelled, but Frankie leveled the gun back on her.

  “His wife?” he asked before cackling.

  “Please. Just let him go.”

  “This just got so much better.”

  My entire body went stiff, and Eliza’s eyes grew impossibly wider as he roughly shoved me, sending me scrambling forward. Just as quickly, he grabbed Eliza and dragged her to the door.

  “No!” I jumped to my feet. He had no fucking business even talking to her, but I’d kill him before I let him hurt her. “Get your fucking hands off her! You’re not taking her anywhere!” I rushed forward.

  I heard Eliza screaming with every step, but adrenaline fueled me.

  She was ours. I wouldn’t let him have her.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake.” He spun Eliza to the side just as I got close, sending her crashing to the ground.

  I landed a blow to his side, but his hand folded around my throat and the cold, metal butt of his gun landed hard against my face. Pain exploded as someone dimmed the lights.

  I felt my body crash onto the floor, but I struggled to keep my eyes open. I was vaguely aware of Eliza screaming my name as she fought against his arms.

  “No,” I slurred, but my body had betrayed me.

  Seconds later, the darkness consumed me completely.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket as Slate and I watched Rick’s last fight for at least the hundredth time. I had long since memorized his every nuance in the ring, but I still watched every single second as if it were going to change.

  “Hey, pause it.”

  A text from an unknown number lit my screen.

  Unknown: I believe I have something that belongs to you.

  I read the text a few times, trying to let it process, but before I could respond, a picture I would never be able to unsee came through. A vision that, with one glance, was branded into my soul.

  It was Eliza. Her mouth was taped and her eyes were pouring tears. She was sitting on the floor of a hotel suite that looked exactly like ours. I could barely make out the round of her stomach as my eyes followed her arm up to a doorknob she was tied to.

  Entire dimensions folded upon themselves in that moment.

  In less than three seconds, I’d plotted the death of whoever had put her there. That picture could have been the joke I prayed it was, but someone would absolutely pay for the way my chest was caving in as I stared at my phone.

  Me: Who the fuck is this?

  I blinked at the phone, desperate for an answer, but my mind finally kicked into gear. There was carpet behind her—carpet I recognized.

  I sprinted from the conference room with one destination on my mind.

  My legs moved faster than I’d thought possible as I raced to the elevator. The seconds I was forced to wait for it to arrive were the longest of my life. It was only the last rational brain cell I had that forced me to stand there, knowing that it would take longer for me to run up the stairs to the thirty-seventh floor. Just as the doors opened, S
late caught up and stepped in front of me.

  His mouth and hands moved angrily, but I couldn’t focus enough to figure out what he was saying. Shoving him out of the way, I frantically pressed the button to our floor and he barely made it inside before the elevator started moving. I was losing my mind trying to speed it up when my phone again buzzed in my hand.

  Unknown: Your old friend Frankie Dragon of course.

  It was followed by another picture of Eliza with her eyes closed and a booted foot pressed against her stomach.

  The world turned in slow motion, but my wrath grew rapidly.

  Me: I have no idea what you want, but your life is over.

  Him: Mine? Or Hers?

  The text was was followed by a photo of a gun tilted to Eliza’s temple. My hand gripped the phone painfully tight.

  Slate snapped in front of me to get my attention. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “They took Eliza!” I shouted as the eternal elevator ride ended.

  When the doors started to open, I squeezed between them, sprinting to our suite. My shoulder slammed into the door as I twisted the handle, but the door remained in place. I patted my pockets down, suddenly realizing I didn’t even have my keycard to open it. I was in absolute hell. She was in there, with a gun to her head, and I was stuck on the other side of a fucking door.

  I pounded as hard as I possibly could. “Open the goddamn door!” But if someone responded, I’d never know.

  Slate appeared at my side with his phone to his ear, and something on the other side of the door immediately piqued his interest. He leaned in close and pressed his ear against the wood. I watched his mouth form a word that sank my heart even further.

  “Quarry!” He began to shake the handle to open the door.

  As I backed up, ready to bulldoze through that fucking door, I caught sight of Flint and Leo jogging down the hall. Flint quickly pulled a key from his pocket and swung the door open. He tried to enter first, but I snagged the back of his shirt to prevent him from rushing inside. I had no idea what was waiting on the other side of that door, but I was going to find out first. I swung him back in to the hall and then stormed in with Leo directly behind me.

  We found Quarry lying on the floor with blood pouring from his nose. He was struggling to sit up, and his mouth was moving a million miles a minute.