by Aly Martinez
“A car? Where is she?” I asked as the opposing trainer came over to offer a handshake and the customary congratulations. But I wasn’t having it. I stepped around him and got into Slate’s face. “Where the fuck is she?” I growled.
His hands lifted to respond, but he dropped them and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? What the fuck is going on?” My stomach dropped.
I searched his face for answers, but he had them all stoically hidden away. Fuck having my glove lifted in the air. If there was a car out back headed for Eliza, I was getting in it.
I shoved him out of the way and climbed out of the ring, not even bothering with the steps as I jumped off the skirting and made my way through the crowd. People were slapping my back as I rushed from the ring, and it wasn’t until I slammed the back door open that I realized Leo and Slate had followed me.
Slate yanked the door open to a blacked-out Escalade, and I crawled inside. No sooner than the door was shut, I yelled, “Start fucking talking. Now!”
“Eliza’s fine. So is the baby.”
I blew out a relieved breath, but he continued.
“She’s at the hospital with Flint.”
My head snapped back in surprise. “Flint?”
“I’m afraid so, son. He’s the one who found her. Frankie put up a fight, and Flint was shot in the scuffle.”
“Flint?” I barely squeezed out as my chest took the painful blow of his words. “Is he okay?”
“He was shot in the back, but according to Johnson, he was talking as the paramedics wheeled him out.”
“In the back?” I whispered.
Leo said something and my eyes flashed to Slate for the translation. With a quick swipe of his hands, pride—and guilt—consumed me.
“He was protecting Eliza.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Eliza
“TILL!” I CRIED AS SOON AS he shoved the door to my hospital room open.
His hands were still taped from the fight and he was only wearing his trunks and an On The Ropes T-shirt, but it was the anger in his eyes that looked the most out of place. His whole face softened as soon as he saw me.
He rushed to the bed and wrapped me in his strong arms. I had been mildly holding it together up until that moment, but I lost it as I buried my face in Till’s neck.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Eliza.”
As he lifted me off the bed, the wires dangling from my stomach all snapped off. I clung to him anyway.
He gently sat me back down. “What is all this?” He pointed to the monitors attached to my stomach. “Is the baby okay?”
“She’s fine. When I was talking to the police, I started having contractions.”
His eyes widened.
“It was just stress,” I quickly clarified. “I haven’t had any more since they hooked me up to the monitors.”
“Thank God,” he exhaled, resting his hand on the curve of my stomach.
“How’s Flint? Did they tell you anything?”
He swallowed hard, and instead of speaking, he only signed back. He’s in surgery.
I nodded sadly, and he lifted my hand to kiss the palm. I sat there for several minutes just staring into space. I was in Till’s arms, but my body remained stiff.
“Eliza, the police and Alex filled me in on what went down at the hotel, but do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head and nervously toyed with his fingers. I fought really fucking hard to hide what was really going through my head. It was wrong, and I felt extremely guilty for even thinking it. However, that didn’t stop me from feeling it. And as tears leaked from my eyes, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it hidden from Till.
“It’s just . . . I’m so fucking mad at him right now.” I paused to collect myself but failed. “He’s so goddamn stupid. Why the hell didn’t he go to the police instead of storming in and trying to take care of it himself?” My chest ached as the memories filled my mind. “He shouldn’t have been there at all. It’s so messed up, but I want him to get out of surgery so I can . . . kick him or something.”
Till coughed a laugh that was dripping with emotions. “I’m pissed too. But he took a bullet for my wife and daughter. I’m gonna have to figure out a way to get over it.”
I couldn’t let it go though. I would have done anything for those boys, and apparently, he felt the same.
“I met your dad,” I said as I tried my damnedest to stop envisioning Flint when he rushed through that hotel door.
“I heard.” Till snapped.
“How the hell does he know sign language?”
“I have no fucking idea. But if I ever find that motherfucker, he won’t be alive long enough for me to ask.” He looked down and kissed my forehead.
We quietly sat there for a few minutes, lost in our own thoughts, but mine were just a never-ending replay of the day. My anxiety climbed with the vision of a gun being smashed into Quarry’s face, then Flint—
Till interrupted my spiral downward. “You’re shaking. Talk to me.”
I couldn’t stop the words as they flew from my mouth. “It was terrible, Till. I’ll never be able to forget the way Flint’s body jumped when the bullet hit him. Even as he fell on top of me, he was thinking enough to catch himself with an arm so he didn’t land on my stomach. He has to be okay. We can’t lose him.”
Till was chewing on his bottom lip, and I knew for certain he didn’t need to hear any of it, but I also knew for certain that it would engulf me if I didn’t talk to someone so I selfishly kept going.
“Oh, God. I really thought he was dead. Then he woke up when the paramedics got there, but he just kept repeating my name.” I dropped my chin to my chest and tried to rid myself of the memories that would haunt me forever.
“Shhh. I’ve got you. He’s okay. We’re all okay,” Till choked out before pulling me into a hug.
I couldn’t see him, but it was okay. Talking wasn’t helping the ache in my chest that was threatening to devour me.
He eventually wedged his massive body onto the bed beside me and let me cry into his chest until I fell asleep. I loved Till Page, but not even his arms brought me comfort that night.
Till
“I’m sorry,” the surgeon said, pulling off his hat. “I don’t have any answers.”
Slate translated beside the doctor. Eliza was sobbing in the bed, and I blindly reached down to hold her hand.
“You . . .” I paused as my legs started to shake. “You’re a doctor. How can you not know?” I swallowed hard.
“Spinal injuries are difficult to predict. It’s case by case, really. We’re going to do everything we can, but there is a good chance that he may never walk again.”
I choked on a shocked breath. Quarry bolted from the room, Erica hot on his heels.
“We’ll just have to wait and see. Give him some time to recover and let his body heal.”
I watched Slate’s hands, but when I made it to his eyes, they mirrored the devastation in my own.
“No. That’s not a good enough answer. Fix him.” It was worthless. I knew there was nothing the doctor could do, but that didn’t prevent me from taking an angry step forward and demanding again, “Fucking fix him.”
Slate stepped in front of me, but I didn’t explode like I was sure he was expecting me to. I was exhausted. So instead, I backed up and sat down on the edge of Eliza’s bed. She wrapped her arms around my neck from the side, and I looked up to Slate.
“I’m so sick of fighting.”
He reached forward and squeezed my shoulder. “I can’t blame you. But let’s just hope Flint doesn’t feel the same way. This isn’t your fight anymore.”
I kissed the top of Eliza’s head and rested a hand on her stomach. It was going to kill me, but Slate was right. I would have to watch this one from outside the ring.
It was Flint’s turn to fight.
Epilogue
Eliza
BLAKELY PAGE WAS BORN THREE months after that horrible day i
n Vegas. She was the bright light during a dark time for all of us. With a head full of Till’s straight, black hair and my deep-blue eyes, she was beautiful—there was no disputing that. She had a tiny freckle-sized birthmark on the top of her hand that Till quickly fell in love with. He was such a great dad. He always had been though.
“The Silencer” Till Page lost his title belt after a rematch with Rick Matthews only a few months later. However, as the defending champion, the contract read a little differently that night. With a guaranteed eight figures in his pocket, “The Poor Kid Fighting For A Better Life” Till Page smiled with genuine excitement as The Brick Wall’s glove was lifted into the air. It didn’t matter one bit that he’d lost his final fight as a professional boxer. Till was the absolute winner as he walked out of that ring.
The day Till received his cochlear implant was extremely bittersweet. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as he heard Blakely cry for the very first time. Unfortunately, not everyone was there to witness it firsthand.
Flint and Quarry never truly came back from Vegas. Sure, they both returned home with us when Flint was well enough to travel, but my boys weren’t on that flight.
They lived under our roof, but after that the smiles were never as wide nor were the laughs as loud. The apartment became entirely too quiet. I understood why Flint had changed so drastically, but even my sweet, foul-mouthed Quarry withdrew. We tried too hard to make everything go back to how it used to be, but ultimately, we were forced to let go and make the best of the present.
The first thing Till did after he lost his title was write two enormous checks. Slate was more than happy to sell him fifty percent ownership of On The Ropes. Even though the funds were transferred electronically, Slate made a huge production about Till coming up to the gym late one night to deliver the check personally. It was all a ploy though. When Till walked through the door, Slate surprised him with his name painted in the coveted blank on the wall. Till was, in fact, On The Ropes’ first world champion, and he had been on every possible news and sports network you could imagine, but nothing validated his success more than seeing his name on that wall.
The second check Till wrote was to the old construction company where he used to work. We spent over a week sketching our dream house. As soon as we were finished, Till rushed it down to the architecture firm to have formal plans drawn up. It wasn’t anything huge, but it was a mansion for us. I was banned from visiting the build site. I knew he was hiding something, but Till gave me a classic one-sided grin every time I brought it up, so I let it slide. Finally, the day we were presented with our keys, he let me in on his little secret.
“Close your eyes, Doodle!”
“I’m carrying a baby, Till!”
“Well, then, give me my baby.” He pulled Blakely from my arms.
She went more than willingly and squealed as he tickled her stomach.
The entire house was empty since we hadn’t moved in yet, but when we entered the large master suite, there were pale-pink curtains drawn over one of the windows.
“I didn’t take you for a pink kind of guy.”
“You know, when we bought this land, I wasn’t completely sold on it. But one look at the view outside of that window and I decided that I never wanted to live anywhere else. Seriously, check it out.” He tilted his head.
I narrowed my eyes at him as I moved toward the window. He held my stare, but a massive smile threatened to split his face.
After one last look over my shoulder, I pushed the curtains back.
I gasped as my hand flew to my mouth and tears made my vision swim.
The other side of that window wasn’t outside at all. It led into a small room laid out exactly like our old abandoned apartment. There were cushions against the wall for a couch, our filing cabinet pantry, and the easel he had built for me years earlier. Till had made a few additions of his own too. There was a table covered by sketchpads, and various art supplies and paints lined a shelf. A picture from our wedding hung on one wall while black-and-white photos of Blakely, Flint, and Quarry covered the other.
“Till,” I whispered, unable to drag my eyes away.
With Blakely in one arm, he wrapped the other around my waist. I swayed back to lean against his chest.
“I know how you feel about doors, so I had them add one in the closet.”
I turned to look up into those hazel eyes and said, “I think I’d rather use the window.”
He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on my lips.
“This is amazing. I . . . I can’t even tell you how much I love it.”
Using his thumb, he wiped the tears from my cheeks then shrugged. “What can I say? I’m good at fantasy.”
I sucked in a shaky breath as I watched Till Page, my husband, hold our daughter inside our home with pictures of my family covering the walls. I couldn’t have asked for more.
“You’re pretty good at reality too.”
The End
Read more of the On the Ropes Series
Fighting Shadows, Book 2
Buy Now: Fighting Shadows
I come from a family of fighters. I always thought I’d follow in their shadows, becoming unstoppable in the ring. That changed the day I saved the life of a woman I loved, but could never have.
My brother hailed me as a hero, and my reward was a wheelchair.
Paralyzed, my life became an inescapable nightmare.
Until I met her.
Ash Mabie had a heart-stopping smile and a laugh that numbed the rage and resentment brewing inside of me. She showed me that even the darkest night still had stars, and it didn’t matter one bit that you had to lie in the weeds to see them.
I was a jaded asshole who fell for a girl with a knack for running away. I couldn’t even walk but I would have spent a lifetime chasing her.
Now, I’m on the ropes during the toughest battles of my life.
Fighting the shadows of our past.
Fighting to reclaim my future.
Fighting for her.
On The Ropes Series
Fighting Silence
Fighting Shadows
Fighting Solitude
Retrieval
(Book 1 in The Retrieval Duet)
I proposed on our first date.
She laughed and told me I was insane. Less than a day later, she said yes.
It was a whirlwind, but we were happy…
Until we got greedy and wanted a family.
It was a life I couldn’t give her, not for lack of trying. Fertility just wasn’t on our side. We sought out doctors and treatments. Spent money we didn’t have. Lied to our families. Smiled for our friends. Put on a brave face for a world that didn’t understand.
Finally, we were successful…
Until we were forced to bury our son.
We were left broken, battered, and destroyed.
They say love is in the details, but it was the details that ruined us.
This is the story of how I took back what had always been mine.
The retrieval of my wife and our family.
Prologue
Roman
The house was dark when I quietly twisted the lock so as not to wake her. God knows she needed the sleep. I didn’t know how she still functioned when her days were filled with tears and her nights weren’t much better. It was precisely the reason I stayed gone as much as I did. Or so I’d thought as I’d thrown myself into work. Money couldn’t solve my problems, but it might have been able to solve hers.
My body ached, and my lids barely stayed open despite the pot of coffee I’d downed not even an hour earlier. It was a miracle I had been able to drive at all. I should have just crashed at the office, but after yet another failed prototype, I’d needed an escape.
Instead, I’d gone home—the very place I’d spent so many nights trying to avoid.
Only one foot was over the threshold when I suddenly froze.
“Elisabeth?” I called, flipping the overhead light on.
My shoulders fell as I found her sitting on the sofa, her long, blond hair curtaining her face and suitcases surrounding her feet.
“What’s going on?” I asked as my gut wrenched, already knowing the answer.
I had no right to be surprised. I’d all but forced her hand. If I was honest with myself, it was what I’d wanted—for her. However, none of that made the pain of reality any less agonizing.
My heart raced. “Elisabeth?” I prompted again, needing to hear her say the words almost as much as I dreaded it.
“I can’t stay here anymore,” she whispered at the floor.
Acid rose in my throat.
Out of habit, I dropped my keys into the basket she’d bought when we’d first moved in. “If you fail the key basket, the key basket will fail you,” she’d announced with an infectious smile the day we had become homeowners to the two-bedroom-two-bath starter home we could barely afford. It was just seconds before I’d swept her off her feet and made love to her on the hardwood floor of our foyer in the middle of the day.
But such was life as a newlywed.
Inside that house with her was the only place I’d ever wanted to be.
Until the fantasy of forever had worn off and the walls of real life had closed in on us. Once my refuge, our home became an inescapable prison with bars built of my failures.
I couldn’t breathe inside that house any more than I could look her in the eye.
We’d only been married for five years. But, seeing her now, I felt like it’d been a lifetime since I’d peered into her eyes, promising to love her in sickness and in health.
But it wasn’t like she was the same woman, either.
Over the last six months, she’d wasted away both physically and mentally in front of my eyes.
And I’d done absolutely nothing to help her.
