by Aly Martinez
“Sweet!” Quarry pumped his fist.
“Oh, and Eliza’s moving in.”
“What?” I shouted, sitting up and immediately regretting it. “Shit!” I hissed, collapsing back against the pillows.
“See? She’s ecstatic about it.” Till slid an arm under my shoulders and gently dragged me back into his side.
“When exactly did we decide that I’m moving in?”
“Oh, good idea! She can cook for us all the time now,” Quarry announced.
“Yep. And she hates your nasty-ass ramen too, so at least I’d have reinforcements in that department,” Flint added.
“Okay, then. It’s settled. We’ll move her stuff next weekend.”
“What the hell just happened? I did not agree to move in with you. Last week, you were telling me how we couldn’t be together, and now, you want me to move in?”
“Don’t give me that look. You told me forever.” He smirked.
“Well, what if it doesn’t work out? I’ll end up homeless!” I snipped back, but waves of warmth were crashing in my chest. I’d fought so hard for so long to get him to take a chance, and there he was, jumping all in.
“What kind of asshole do you think I am, Eliza? I’d never let you be homeless.” He looked hurt, and I instantly felt guilty. “I’d at least let you sleep on the couch,” he teased.
“How about we just chill and let things play out for a little while. There’s no rush, Till. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then why wait? You’re the one who pointed out that we’re basically married. And after that shit last night, there is not a chance in hell you will ever sleep alone again. I’ve got the boys, so it makes more sense for you to move in with us.”
“Is this about you wanting to live together or you worrying about me? Because if this is about my safety, then I’ll pass.”
“Why can’t it be both? Yeah, I’d kinda like to know you’re safe every night. But I also love you and want to spend as much time with you as possible. Why are you even arguing about this? Word on the street is that you’re pretty obsessed with me.” His lips lifted in my favorite way.
“Obsessed? I’m not the one who has spent the last eight years climbing through windows. If there is a stalker among us, it’s most definitely you.”
“I don’t stalk. I keep tabs.” He winked.
While I didn’t get his stupid joke in the least, I still laughed with both arms holding my stomach. I looked up, and Flint and Quarry’s eyes were still asking the question they were all waiting for the answer to.
“What happens if I say no?” I asked Flint.
“It would be unfortunate. But your belongings have already been scheduled for relocation.” He cracked his knuckles. “Welcome home, Eliza.” He gave a grand gesture around the room.
“So, what do you say?” Till tilted my head back and stared deep into my eyes.
“I think it’s too soon.”
“Quarry, you’re up!” he called out, never dragging his gaze away from mine.
“Puh, puh, please, Eliza. We’re hungry,” Quarry exaggerated, full-on batting his long, black lashes.
Till bit his lip to stifle a laugh, but Flint let it fly freely.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re moving my stuff regardless of what my answer is, right?”
“Yep.”
“Absolutely.”
“Hell yeah.”
I once again rolled my eyes, but an impossibly wide smile gave me away.
“She’s in!” Till declared.
He wasn’t wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Till
FOR THOSE FIRST FEW WEEKS after Eliza moved in, I was a nervous wreck pretty much every minute of every day. I waited for her to disappear, proving my theory that she had no business in reality. But each morning as she woke up in my arms, I slowly started to believe that I could possibly have it all.
On the surface, things went right back to the way they always had been between us. Except, instead of sneaking in her bedroom window, I was sneaking into her shower. I couldn’t get enough of her. After years of fighting my constant desire to be with her, I couldn’t keep my hands off her. She must have felt the same way, because if I was within her reach, she was touching me too. Her body was healing, but she still offered it to me—and I took it every fucking time.
Derrick Bailey was officially removed from our lives. He had been arrested and found guilty of assault. Not even dear old daddy had been able to get him off the hook, and lord knows he tried. Thanks to Slate speaking at his sentencing, his punishment was rather lengthy. It still didn’t feel like enough for what he had done to my Eliza, but I breathed easy every night knowing he could never touch her again—not as long as she slept at my side.
After my week off to help Eliza heal, I formally began professional boxing at On The Ropes. Slate wouldn’t schedule my first fight until he felt I was ready, and if the way he was training me was any indication, he had been right in holding me back. I was struggling to keep up with the unbelievable regimen he’d created for me. I’d worked hard my entire life, but this was something else completely. By the time I got home from the gym each night, I could barely keep my eyes open. But every day, as I stared up at that painting on the wall, I knew it would be worth it. He couldn’t work me hard enough to erase the image I had of someone painting my name into that blank. I was hell-bent on making it happen.
Home of
Till Page
On the Ropes’
First World Champion
With the new paycheck, things loosened up around the Page house. We weren’t wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but for a crew of kids who truly knew what it meant to be broke, it sure felt that way. Especially on occasions when we could afford to actually celebrate.
“Happy birthday, Quarry!” Eliza clapped as the waiter brought plates for the cake she’d spent half the day baking.
“Eleven feels pretty good.” He rubbed his stomach, sliding down to recline in the booth.
Flint laughed beside him as he polished off his burger.
“I’m serious. I could get used to this life.” Q dragged his finger across the side of the cake, scooping off the frosting and shoving it into his mouth.
“So I was thinking. What about Till ‘The Terminator’ Page?” I asked.
“Lame!” Eliza and Flint vetoed.
“Hey. I kinda like that.”
“Thank you, Q!”
We high-fived over the table.
My new boxing nickname had been the hot topic of conversation over the previous few weeks. Slate had put a special clause at the end of my boxing contract stating that, “Till ‘The Kill’ Page” wasn’t cool enough.” Yes. He’d actually used that exact sentence in a legally binding document. He’d thought that it was pretty funny, but when I’d asked if he was kidding, he’d answered with a resounding no.
We couldn’t decide on anything. It felt like all the good ones had already been used or just didn’t fit. Earlier that afternoon, Slate had informed me that my new name was due by the next day or I was fired for breach of contract. He’d said it with a smile, so I doubted that he was serious, but I’d decided to play it safe just in case.
“Vicious Fury?” Flint suggested then popped a fry into his mouth.
“Fists of Fury!” Eliza shouted excitedly.
“Been used already, baby.” I dropped my napkin on my plate and draped an arm around her shoulders. “The Whirlwind?”
Quarry vetoed that one. “Stupid.”
“Okay, what about Till ‘The Strong Will’ Page,” Eliza suggested as she began cutting the cake.
“Oh no.” Flint threw his hands over his mouth, feigning fear. “You’ll never beat Till Page, he has a . . . a”—his chin quivered dramatically—“strong will!”
We all busted out laughing. Well, everyone except Eliza. She threw a candle.
“Okay . . . how about Till ‘The Lights Go Out’ Page? Come on! You have to admit that’s a good one!�
� Quarry exclaimed before shoveling chocolate cake into his mouth.
“Oh! I like the play on your name in that one,” Eliza replied, passing me a slice.
I rubbed my chin, pretending to consider it. “Well, I love it. My only concern is what if I fight someone who isn’t afraid of the dark like Q?”
“I’m not afraid of the dark!”
Even Eliza laughed that time. “The Fatal Kiss.” She leaned up and gently pecked my lips.
It caused Quarry to make a gagging sound, Flint to yell, “Veto!” and me to drop my hand into her lap. Her eyes went wide and her cheeks heated as I snuck it under the edge of her skirt.
“The Hell Greeter! You know, because of you and the whole purgatory thing.” Quarry’s eyes flashed to Eliza, who was biting her lip as she pried my hand from between her legs.
“I feel like this is purgatory,” I mumbled. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” I slid out of the booth, dragging her with me.
I threw an arm over her shoulders and the four of us walked to Eliza’s car. I was genuinely happy for quite possibly the first time in my life. I’d just paid for my entire family to have dinner at a decent restaurant, and I hadn’t had to save for six months to do it. I had a job I loved, Quarry had a birthday present waiting for him at home, and Eliza was going to end the night calling my name. Life was good.
And it made me so fucking paranoid.
“Hey, can you drive home?” Eliza handed me the keys.
“You okay?”
“I have an idea.” She rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine, biting my bottom lip as she pulled away.
“Suddenly, I have ideas too.” I looped an arm around her waist and rolled my hips into hers.
“Well, you need to get rid of those ideas,” she whispered looking over her shoulder to where the boys were waiting by the car. “I’m on my period.”
“Ah, yes. Natures very own cock block.” I nodded before releasing a frustrated groan.
She giggled. “Yes, but it also means that I can start my birth control so we can get rid of the condoms.” She lifted her eyebrows suggestively.
I sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, woman. Now you are speaking a language I understand.” I grabbed both sides of her face and planted a hard closed mouth kiss to her lips.
“Let’s go!” Flint yelled, grabbing our attention.
“Next weekend is the lock in at the gym. They will be gone for an entire night. You should rest up while you can.” I winked as I walked away.
As we loaded into the car, she pulled a sketchpad out and went to work. I didn’t recognize the movements as her pencils glided across the paper. I tried to peek over her shoulder at every red light we hit, but I was never able to catch a single glance. She was acting weird, and my heart raced while waiting for the sky to fall.
“You sure you’re okay?” I squeezed her leg.
She glanced up with a warm smile. “I swear. I just wanted to draw something.” She lifted my hand from her leg and kissed the palm, reading my nerves like a freaking book.
As soon as we walked through the front door, Eliza sat us all down.
“So,” she started, but nothing followed for several seconds. “I’m not sure how you guys are going to feel about this, but I had an idea at the restaurant. I know this is kind of a touchy subject, but I don’t really think ignoring it does anyone any good.” She flipped the sketchpad over.
I blinked.
Flint gasped.
Quarry cursed.
She had drawn a pistol that appeared to be shooting an intricate sound wave, which eventually fell flat. Inside the spikes of the wave were the words “The Silencer” in block letters.
“Till, I don’t mean to sound like a Debbie Downer, but every single day that passes, you fight to keep the silence at bay. I think it’s only fair that your opponents should have to face The Silencer.”
“Hell yeah!” Quarry flew to his feet.
Flint watched me closely for a reaction, but with one look at the paper, I was rendered speechless.
If I could have taken a step back, I would have realized that the logo she’d whipped up on a twenty-minute car ride home was just good and the nickname she’d picked was just catchy. But I couldn’t do that at all. What she’d put on that paper was extraordinary to me.
It gave power to my flaws, purpose to my life sentence, and pride to my future in silence.
It was a symbol depicting who I was, drawn by the very hands that had made me who I was.
I mentally vowed that, from that moment on, I would always be “The Silencer” Till Page.
She nervously chewed on her lip as everyone in the room waited for me to speak. I stood up from the couch and walked over to where she was standing. After grabbing the sketchpad from her hand, I roughly tore off the top page.
“It was just an idea. Don’t get mad,” she said, starting to apologize.
“Oh, I’m furious,” I responded, gripping the back of her neck. “You’ve been holding out on me. I had no idea you could draw anything but eyes.”
She started to laugh, but I kissed her indecently.
I’d forgotten that the boys were in the room until I heard Quarry groan in disgust. I couldn’t have given two shits who was watching though.
“I love it,” I told her as she pulled away. “I’m giving this to Slate in the morning, and if he doesn’t like it, I’m quitting.”
“Okay, now, let’s not get crazy here,” she replied.
“So, that’s the one?” Flint asked, snatching the paper from my hand.
I stared into Eliza’s dark-blue eyes as I answered, “It is for me.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eliza
Four months later . . .
“QUARRY, GET OUT OF THE car!”
“No.” He pouted.
“You look fine!”
“I look like I pissed myself! There might be chicks in there.”
“No. It looks like I hit the brakes, causing you to spill pop all over your lap. If the chicks ask, just blame it on me. Now, let’s go.”
Flint chuckled beside me.
“See! He’s laughing!” Quarry exclaimed. “I’m not going in like this. Take me back home.”
I sucked in a calming breath, but my nerves were shot. That night, “The Silencer” Till Page was set to make his debut in the professional boxing ring, and I was standing in the parking lot of a small, run-down arena on the outskirts of Chicago, arguing with an eleven-year-old drama king.
“It is a three-hour drive back to our apartment!” I looked over to Flint and threw my hands up in frustration.
He shook his head then dragged his royal-blue hoodie off and tossed it at Quarry with a smirk. “Put that on. It’s big enough to cover your piss panties.”
Quarry fumed as he pulled it on, but he finally got out of the freaking car.
As we entered the venue, it was obvious that the chattering crowd wasn’t there because of Till. Every word I heard spoken was about Slate’s big return to professional boxing. The venue had printed programs, and Slate’s photo was at least three times the size of anyone else’s. Till’s was on the back.
It was packed with standing-room only, and even though it was the middle of fall in Chicago, it might as well have been a boiler room. Quarry was sweating his ass off inside that hoodie, but he refused to take it off.
“Leo!” Flint shouted from our reserved seats in the front row.
“’Sup, man.” He leaned across a metal barricade to shake Flint’s hand. “Hey, Eliza.”
“I didn’t know you guys were coming,” I said, returning Leo’s friendly hug.
“Are you kidding? We’ve been waiting a long time for this.” He pointed up to the balcony, where Sarah and Erica were waving enthusiastically.
I tried to cover how touched I was that they were all there to support Till. “Thank you,” I whispered to Leo as I returned their waves with both hands.
His eyes warmed as he watched me fight back tears. I
was a mess. Even more than usual. It was such a huge moment for Till. I was entitled to be emotional.
“Did Liv come?” Quarry asked, jumping to his feet.
“Nah. She’s not into the whole boxing thing. Whoa! Q, did you wet your pants?” He started laughing as he looked down at where the hoodie had ridden up.
“No! Eliza made me spill pop. I swear!”
Flint laughed hysterically beside him.
“Right.” Leo winked. “Fight’s about to start. I’m handling Slate’s security tonight, so let me know if you have any problems.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
He glanced back down at Quarry’s pants and chuckled to himself as he walked away.
Just as Leo disappeared around the corner, the arena went crazy. We were all looking around to figure out what we were missing when the crowd started chanting, “Slate.” Even through the chaos, I spotted Till the second they started toward the ring. I wasn’t even sure the fans in attendance even realized he was there at all.
But I did.
Wearing a red robe with the logo I had drawn sewn across the back, I watched “The Silencer” Till Page crawl through the ropes. Staggering pride forced tears to my eyes. Flint must have seen it, because he tossed an arm around my shoulders and pulled me up against his side. However, judging by their faces, both boys were just as overwhelmed by that moment as I was. Their big brother was a professional boxer, and even if it was only that one fight, he’d made it big time in their eyes.
Four rounds later, Till won his very first fight by unanimous decision.
* * *
“How much money did you make?” Quarry asked Till when we made it to the dingy locker room after the fight.
“He didn’t make anything,” Slate answered. “But I made six hundred bucks.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“You didn’t make anything?”
“Nope. I don’t get money until I make more than what Slate pays me every month.”
“Well, that blows!” Quarry exclaimed.
Slate began cutting the tape off Till’s hands. “All right, so I talked to a few of the promoters before the fight. I got you set up for three more four-round fights. Once every thirty days. Hundred and fifty bucks per round. You good with that?”
