by Aly Martinez
FIGHTING SOLITUDE
Copyright © 2016 Aly Martinez
All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted without written permission from the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with others please purchase a copy for each person. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
Fighting Solitude is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and occurrences are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental.
Cover by Ashbee Designs
Editor: Mickey Reed
Photography by FuriousFotog
Cover Model: Alex InkFit
Formatting: Champagne Formats
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue
Other Books
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Daddy,
Thank you for forcing me to watch Rocky at least once a week for most of my childhood. The Page brothers wouldn’t be here without you.
I love you.
P.S. Rocky IV will always be my favorite.
“MIA!” I SHOUTED.
It was worthless. She’d been deaf since the day I’d met her.
She’d never once heard my voice.
She’d never heard the deep rumble of my laugh when she was excited, signing so fast I could barely keep up.
She’d never heard my content sigh when she barged into the locker room after a fight—just her presence soothed the lingering madness brewing within me.
She’d never heard me whispering my deepest fears into her ear as she fell asleep on top of me.
She’d never heard the reverence in which I cried her name each and every time I took her body.
And she’d never once heard the ease in which the words I love you tumbled from my lips as I stared into her deep, jade-green eyes.
But, as I screamed her name while watching her petite body seizing in the passenger’s seat beside me, I’d never needed her to hear me more.
“Mia. Oh God. I’ve got you, baby.”
She was still thrashing violently as I made my way around to her door and yanked it open while pleading with whichever god was willing to help.
When she stilled, a whole new level of silence filled the air around us. It wasn’t the absence of sound.
It was the absence of life.
“Mia, breathe!” I roared as her chest remained agonizingly still. “Help me!” I screamed at the closed emergency room doors, but no medical savior rushed out with the miracle I so desperately needed.
My hands shook wildly as I released her lifeless body from the seat belt.
“I’ve got you. Just hang on. Please just hang on, baby,” I whispered, lifting her into my arms and sprinting through the sliding doors. “I need a doctor! She’s not breathing!”
Nurses rushed toward me in slow motion as the seconds without air in her lungs passed at a terrifying speed.
Breathe.
A doctor appeared with a gurney and quickly took her from my arms.
The immediate loss was staggering.
Hope became my only solace.
She needed help I wasn’t capable of giving her, but that didn’t stop me from following close behind as they rolled her away. I was on the verge of self-destructing; letting her out of my sight wasn’t an option.
I stood motionless in the doorway while doctors and nurses swarmed around her. Their mouths moved frantically, but without my hearing aids, I was worthless, unable to make out the words their faint voices carried.
I never wore my hearing aids when I was with Mia. There was no point. She rarely spoke with her voice.
We’d spent four years building a relationship with our hands.
Those hands had told me animated stories that had made me laugh until my face hurt from smiling.
They’d fought with me relentlessly, but they’d always ended the night raking down my back in silent ecstasy.
Her fingers had fluidly signed I love you more times than I could ever count—or forget.
But, as I felt the nurse attempting to physically remove me from the room, my eyes became fixated on her limp hand dangling off the side of the bed. It was the only sight more frightening than watching her flail mid-seizure.
It ripped the heart straight from my chest.
That hand was supposed to be full of life.
It was the very essence of Mia.
Pale.
White.
Still.
Oh, God.
After sucking in a deep breath, I held it until the room began to spin.
It provided me no relief even as it forced me to my knees.
There would be no distraction from this.
I was going to lose her.
Yet another woman I couldn’t save.
I MET QUARRY PAGE IN the back alley behind On The Ropes boxing gym. He saved my life. Well, more accurately, he saved me from a life sentence in prison for killing two twelve-year-old boys who thought picking on me was a good idea.
“Let me go!” the boy shouted, only seconds away from tears.
I squeezed my arm even tighter around his neck. “Take it back!”
“Dude… Get…her off me,” he grunted to his friend.
His buddy wasn’t about to jump in though. I’d already dropped him to the ground with a kick to the crotch. So, like a good little wimp, he watched with huge eyes, justly terrified as I clung to his friend’s back and threatened to choke the life out of him.
All of this could have been avoided if they hadn’t acted like idiots. I had been minding my own business, reading a book on my iPad with my headphones blaring, when they’d stumbled upon me. I was sure I’d looked like an easy target for them to unleash some childhood cruelty on.
They couldn’t have been more wrong.
Sure, I was a little girl who loved all things purple, makeup, and high heels, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t tough as nails. When you grow up with a druggie birth mother, you quickly realize that the world doesn’t owe you anything. The random guys parading in and out of my house sure as hell didn’t. If I was lucky, they left me the hell alone. If I wasn’t… Well, anyway.
It wasn’t until my mother overdosed on heroin a few years earlier that my father entered the picture, allowing me to breathe easy for the first time in my young life. He had money. A nice house. A warm bed. A stocked fridge. And, because he was the owner
of Guardian Protection Agency, our security system was unrivaled. We were always surrounded by his men. They were part of my family too—and the reason I knew how to defend myself in the first place. Insecurity and fear should have been a thing of the past for me. But experiences like mine didn’t leave a person easily, no matter how old they were. So, when those two boys snatched my iPad and began throwing rocks at me as I scrambled to get it back, I lost my mind.
And then they lost their pride at the hands of a nine-year-old girl.
“Take it back!” I screamed again as he painfully banged me against the brick wall.
My grip faltered, which allowed him enough time to flip my small body over his shoulder and fling me to the hard ground. At the last second, I caught him and dragged him down with me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” the boy heaved as I attempted to regain my hold on his neck.
It was worthless. While I’d caught him off guard the first time, he was way bigger than I was and used that to his advantage. His body quickly covered mine as I fought underneath him.
“Get your hands off me, butt face!” I shouted.
Suddenly, he was gone, and I don’t mean he let me go. I mean, one second, he was on top of me and, the next, he was flying away from me as if I had finally been able to harness The Force.
“Who the hell are you?” the boy, still cupping his balls, shouted.
Before I even had a chance to see who the question was aimed at, a pair of unforgettable hazel eyes leaned over me.
“Are you okay?”
I was nine. Boys were disgusting. They were even worse than snips and snails and puppy-dog tails.
But not this one.
This one was beautiful, and my normal sass evaded me as my mouth dried out.
I stared up at him from the ground for entirely too long.
With a wicked dimple denting his cheek, he tilted his head in question, causing his straight, black hair to hang in his eyes. “Did you swallow your tongue? I just heard you screaming, so I know you can talk. Are you okay?”
I nodded, still unable to find my voice. After pushing myself off the ground, I dusted dirt off the back of my purple dress, which I’d paired with adorable, sparkly leggings.
“You bitch!” the punk I’d almost killed yelled, rubbing his neck.
The hazel eyes I couldn’t stop staring at never left mine, even as his jaw twitched from the boy’s curse.
“Are you a bitch?” he asked calmly.
I shook my head and the most spectacular lopsided grin formed on his lips.
“I didn’t think so.” Spinning, he grabbed the boy’s throat and swept his leg out from under him. Hazel Eyes crashed to the ground, pinning him. “What the fuck did you call her, dickhead?” He mercilessly grabbed his throat as the boy fought under his grip.
I wasn’t sure how old my hero was, but I figured he had to have been at least fourteen. He was a giant compared to both of the wusses who had been picking on me.
Blue Balls made a tight circle around them, unsure whether to jump in and help his pal or not.
I made his decision for him when I shook my head and leveled him with a pointed glare.
His eyes nervously flashed between his friend and me. “She attacked us!” he yelled, slowly backing toward the door.
“I did not! You threw a rock at me first.”
“You kicked me in the balls!” he returned.
“Yep. Want another go?” I took a giant step toward him.
“Judging by the fact that you’re scared of a girl half your size, I’m not sure you had any balls to begin with,” my nameless hero sniped.
I smiled proudly, turning to him. My stomach fluttered when my gaze met his. His murderous expression softened as he blinked at me with thick, black lashes.
We both awkwardly looked away.
“Apologize,” he growled at the boy still pinned to the ground.
Hazel Eyes released his neck long enough for the boy to cough a, “Sorry,” in my direction.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Make him apologize for calling me a girl, too.”
He swung his head to face me. “Um. You are a girl,” he stated incredulously.
I let out a frustrated huff and looked away to cover the heat that rushed to my cheeks.
I was completely okay with being a girl in his eyes. Those two idiots though? No way.
“Just do it!” I ordered.
Shrugging, he shook his head and then barked, “Fucking apologize.”
“This is bull crap. I’m telling Slate,” the boy said.
“Telling him what? That you got your ass handed to you by a”—his gaze flicked to mine—“girl you were throwing rocks at? Let me know how that works out for you.”
“No, I’m telling on you. There’s no fighting allowed outside the ring. He’ll kick you out of the youth program if he finds out you put your hands on me.”
I swear I saw the proverbial light bulb flash on above my hero’s head.
“Well, seeing as this is my first day and I don’t want to be here anyway, that would be awesome.” He moved to the back door of the gym before yanking it open. “My name’s Quarry Page. Make sure you add that so there’s no confusion.”
“Ugh,” one of them mumbled. “You’re Till’s little brother.”
“Yeah. But don’t let that stop you. Come on. Get moving. The sooner you get in there and rat me out, the sooner I can get the hell out of here.”
“I heard you were only ten,” the other piped up.
“And?” Quarry asked rudely.
Ten? Holy crap!
He was huge. He definitely didn’t look like any of the boys I went to school with. However, he didn’t exactly act like them, either. I’d known this kid for less than five minutes and I had already heard him say at least ten cuss words. I might have dropped a “damn” or “hell” under my breath every now and again, but Quarry cussed like the words had been custom-made for his tongue.
“Now, go on. Get the hell out of here.” He took a menacing step toward them, which made them both flinch.
Quarry might have wanted to get kicked out of the youth program, but that was the very last thing I wanted.
If I planned on seeing this mysterious foul-mouthed kid again—and I definitely wanted to see him again—the gym was our only connection.
After dramatically clearing my throat, I announced, “My dad is Leo James. You might want to keep your mouth shut. If I tell him you messed with me, I’m not sure either of you would survive.” I shrugged as if I hadn’t threatened their lives.
I absolutely had.
They let out suffering groans, knowing they were in deep trouble. Of course they knew who my dad was. As the head of security for Slate Andrews, celebrity boxer and owner of On The Ropes boxing gym, my dad was a fixture at the gym. And, judging by their ghostly faces, they also knew he would have strung them up by their fingernails if he caught wind of what they had done. The best part was that he’d never believe what I’d done to them in return.
I was an angel in his eyes. I worked hard to keep that appearance up as much as possible; it was the only way to get away with all the stuff I really did. His wife, my adoptive mother, was the only one who knew the real me. And I adored her for keeping it our little secret.
“Okay. Leave her out of it, but get in there and tattle on me. Make sure you make it sound good when you tell them how I choked you out for no reason. Toss in that you think I’m crazy! I’m counting on you two dumbasses to really sell this shit.”
I cut my eyes back to the boys. “You say a single word about him and I’ll tell my dad that you hurt my back on the wall.”
They both grumbled.
Offended, Quarry shot back at me, “Hey! What the hell did I do to you? I’m trying to get kicked out of here.”
I smiled. “I know, but then we wouldn’t be able to hang out again.”
“Slow down there. You’re pretty and all, but if hanging out with you means cleaning the toile
ts as part of my required chores for being in the program? Thanks, but no fucking thanks.”
My heart sped. He thought I was pretty! Well, I mean, I knew I was, but I’d never cared if a boy thought I was before.
However, suddenly, I didn’t care about anything else.
I tapped on my chin, trying to figure out how to fix this. Cleaning the toilets did sound like it would suck.
“Okay. How about this…” I looked back at the losers watching our exchange. “I won’t tell my dad, but you two have to take Quarry’s bathroom shifts for the next six months.”
“No way!” they shouted in unison.
Fisting my hands on my hips, I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Daddy!”
“Wait!” They jumped in my direction, halting when Quarry protectively stepped in front of me.
“Six months or I swear I’ll tell him.” I stepped around Quarry.
“This is so not fair. You were the one who got all crazy.”
The boy stomped his foot just as my father’s massive frame appeared in the doorway.
“Liv? ¿Todo bien?” (Everything okay?) he asked as his eyes flashed accusingly around the group.
“Well…” I started, holding the boy’s gaze in question.
“Deal,” he mumbled under his breath.
Quarry barked out a laugh, and I smiled at my victory, innocently batting my eyelashes.
“¿Me preguntaba si mis amigos podrían ir helado con nosotros?” (I was wondering if my new friends could come get ice cream with us?)
“Oh, baby. The boys have work to do.” He arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that right, guys?”
“Yes sir,” was echoed by everyone but Quarry—he was staring down at the ground, kicking rocks. One dimple revealed his hidden smile.
My dad collected my iPad and my earphones off the ground then extended his hand toward me. “See? Now, come on. You can read in Slate’s office while I finish up.”
I skipped over, intertwining my tiny fingers with his. “Okay. Maybe next time?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” His eyes once again lifted to the boys. “We need to find you some girls to hang out with.”
He guided me inside the gym, but just before the door closed, I peeked over my shoulder.
“Later, Quarry.”
His eyes lifted, and a wide grin covered his gorgeous face. “Later, Liv.”
