by Shey Stahl
A count is tolling of the seconds by the referee after a boxer is knocked down. If a boxer is still down at the end of the count of ten then the fight is over by knockout.
I laid in bed that morning afraid to move. I hurt, everywhere. Worse than workout pain and the soreness between my legs was unreal.
I had to get up though since I needed to meet Marcus for lunch. And maybe tell him I couldn’t do this article. Not after what Destry and I had shared, I couldn’t betray his trust and write something that may or may not cause him more drama in his life. Whatever happened the night of that fight, Destry wasn’t talking so I knew it had to be a big deal and whatever I’d uncover about that night could make or break an already somewhat broken man. Marcus was going to have to understand that it wasn’t about a story here, it was about a man, a man I was afraid I was falling for.
“You’re up early.” I said greeting Jared who was sitting at the table with coffee and the paper. Destry had left maybe an hour ago and I couldn’t sleep so I decided coffee was needed.
“Yeah, someone had to help Destry when he locked himself out of our apartment and left his keys on the table.”
“Oh, he never knocked, did he?”
“No, but I was on the couch when he came out of your room and then he forgot his keys. I heard him trying to open the door and I answered the door with my gun.” Jared smiled. “Scared the shit out of him.”
“Oh my God,” my hand covered my mouth. “You didn’t?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“What did he say?”
“Same thing everyone says. Don’t shoot.” Jared saw the concert tickets on the counter. “Tallan, seriously, are you still thinking of meeting Silas?”
“I don’t know.”
“And you’re paying Destry. And fucking him. That’s like prostitution.” He pointed out. “I could arrest you for that.”
“Shut up.” I groaned pouring myself another cup of coffee and sitting at the table with him.
Jared laughed, shifting the conversation. “I’m being serious. I think you should tell him about the article.”
“No shit.”
“Seriously.”
“I’m going to when the time is right.” I had no problems talking to Jared about my personal life. I also, in a strange sense, needed his approval in a way that what I was doing wasn’t completely wrong. Or I guess I wanted his take on Destry as a person. He was very good at judging character. He had to be with his job. “What do you think of him?”
“He’s cool.” He didn’t hesitate to say. “Wasn’t very talkative when he left at four this morning but he seemed like he wasn’t a complete tool.”
As we sat there drinking coffee, me with my black sugarless coffee and him with a mocha I would quite possibly kill him for, he asked, “Have you asked him what’s going on with you two?”
“No. I don’t want to. I’m afraid of what he’ll say.” I admitted. “What if he says it’s just sex? What would I say then?”
Jared leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug. “Do you want more than sex?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I saw him this morning. It’s more than sex.”
I wouldn’t allow myself the notion that what we had meant anything more to Destry. It scared me that it might. It scared me more that it might not.
“How do you know?”
“I’m a guy.” Jared pointed out, as if this should have been completely obvious to me. “I know these things.” I gave him a look so he continued. “He was reluctant to leave. That’s how I know. He opened your door and stood there, like he was contemplating staying. If it was just sex, there’d be no hesitation.”
I contemplated that but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. “Have you seen Catie lately?”
“Don’t do that.” Jared stood reaching for his coffee cup and then took it with him as he walked towards the sink.
“Do what?”
“Act like what I’m doing with Catie is similar to this.” He set his cup in the sink and then turned to face me.
I shifted my position in the chair so I was facing him. “Well… isn’t it?”
“No.” He shook his head crossing his folded arms over his chest. “Not at all.”
“How so?”
Jared smiled. “I’m not paying her.”
Jared went to work that morning and I went in my room and got dressed with a pair of gray leggings I bought the other day, a light blue sweater and black boots. It’d been a while since I dressed like this but something had me feeling comfortable. How was it possible that the fat girl from a few weeks ago was now comfortable in gray leggings and could fit the ‘cankles’ Jared had so rudely pointed out into black boots?
I owned this look. The past few weeks I’d found myself again. Destry not only had helped me physically, but he’d relieved me of a lot of emotional baggage I’d been carrying around about the way I looked simply by being attracted to me at what I considered my worst. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I’d be able to write an article about this man without betraying his trust. Marcus was just going to have to understand.
I met Marcus at the same restaurant as before and noticed it was right around the corner from Destry’s apartment. Maybe I should sneak over there for a quickie?
What the hell is wrong with you?
Stop it. Focus.
On the bus ride over there I found myself checking Twitter to see if Silas had updated anything. The only Tweet was one with him and his band in Texas at a show last night. He looked good. Smiling and relaxed, and I found myself smiling too.
When I entered the restaurant, Marcus smiled and stood when I approached the table. He was also such a gentleman. But I’ll be honest here, I wanted to punch him because of the pressure he was putting on me to write this article.
We took a seat. “You look great, Tallan.”
“Thanks.” I paused and took a drink of the ice water already on the table. “I can’t do the article.” There was no sense in beating around the bush. I had to be honest. With someone.
“What?” He panicked, his eyes wide. “Why?”
Resting my elbows on the table, my hand covered my mouth slightly. “I’m in too deep.”
Marcus stared at me. I’ve known Marcus for a while now. Now he doesn’t know me as well as Jared does, but he knows me pretty well. Nothing short of subtlety, he then said, “You slept with him.”
I sighed resting my forehead on my clasped hands. “I don’t know why I try to hide anything.”
Casually Marcus looked over the menu, his eyes lifting to mine momentarily. “So why does that change anything?”
“Because. He willingly started offering up information to me. Personal information. Now I feel like I’m using him.”
Marcus shrugged setting down his menu. “You kind of are.”
I kicked him under the table. Immediately he hunched forward and grabbed his leg. “I am not! And if I am, it’s because of you, asshole.” I slammed my fist on the table shaking water glasses. “I’m. In. Too. Deep.”
I calmed down slightly after ordering our meals and I started snacking on my veggie and hummus plate that tasted like a dog’s ass.
“I feel like I’m breaking his trust. I need to tell him about the article.”
Marcus considered this for a moment, but then said, “If you do, be prepared for him to shut down and not tell you anything. And you are also running the risk that he won’t have anything at all to do with you ever again.”
Was losing what I had with Destry now worth it?
But then again, what is it that I have with him aside from hot sex and a personal trainer?
I wasn’t sure I wanted to actually put a name or a category to what we have. For now, it was what worked for me, maybe even for him. But the concert and my six week deadline was fast approaching. I’ve got bigger problems to face in my future than telling Destry about this article. When Destry’
s personal training work was completed, was I going to be able to walk away from everything that we’d shared to walk into the arms of another man?
Before I left, Marcus caught me by the arm. “Does this mean you’re giving up on it? You won’t do the article?”
I sighed, contemplating it. Giving up? Of course I couldn’t give up. Marcus knew what to say to me. I hate myself for it at times but challenge me and I become dedicated to the cause.
“I’ll do the article… but it’s not going up on your blog until he approves it.”
Marcus gave me a weak smile, his hand rubbing over his jaw. “Good luck with that.”
Destry ended up having to move our workouts around, and cancel a couple because his dad wasn’t doing well. They apparently had to do some kind of procedure on him but Destry didn’t say what and wasn’t willing to talk about it. He was at Virginia Mason in the ICU for now.
On Thursday, after our work-out, I figured judging by his mood he’d want some time alone. Never did I think he’d invite me back to his apartment.
Maybe he needed a distraction. I was apparently his distraction.
We were sitting on his couch, the Rocky movie playing on his large flat screen while we ate take out from Jade Garden. The wild mushroom roasted chicken they served was something I could eat every night. No lie.
We made small talk as we ate, when he surprised me by asking about Jared. “How long have you lived with that guy?”
I chewed slowly and then reached for my napkin covering my mouth as I spoke. “Since we graduated from college.”
Destry took a bite of his chicken, then asked, “He’s a cop?”
“Yeah.” I laughed trying to cut my chicken with those stupid plastic knives that don’t cut meat worth a damn. “Did he scare you the other night?”
Destry chuckled. “At first. He was holding a gun.”
“What about you.” I gave up on the knife and pushed my food away setting it on the coffee table in front of us. “You live alone, right?”
I knew after being here last time he only had a one bedroom apartment but you never know. I mostly just wanted to hear him say he wasn’t seeing anyone.
“Yes. I used to live with someone but she moved out. My dad lived with me for a few months but it was clear I wasn’t what he needed. I let him stay in my room and I slept on the couch for a few months. After I found him wandering the halls looking for my mom, I decided it was time he went somewhere they could keep better track of him.”
“So then you put him into that assisted living center?”
He nodded setting his empty container on the coffee table next to my food. “It’s just better that way. Now he gets the care he needs.”
Destry’s mood shifted, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the television. My attention wasn’t on the movie. It was on this man next to me and how he got to be this reserved and closed off. There’s so much more to him. I already knew I was probably the first person he’d talked about any of this with in possibly two years.
“One woman fucked you up, didn’t she?”
Oh God, why did I just ask that?
Destry sat back against the couch running his hands through his hair considering my question. “You could say that.”
Bringing my legs up, I rested my chin on my knees hugging my legs to my body. “That Stella girl?”
Just the mention of her name caused him to flinch. The words seemed to hang there in the air and for a brief moment I wanted to take them back. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned her.
“I was with her for two years. Never once did I fuck around on her.” He shrugged and I could tell his confession about her was difficult. “Then she fucked me over.”
My eyes dropped from him to my hands. “I know exactly how that goes.”
“Yeah, I bet you do.” He said honestly, seeming a bit short with his words. Ordinarily I’d say he was being rude, or condescending but not right now. He was being honest. He really did understand how I felt. “I… I can’t blame her for leaving. I was a dick and I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. That part I don’t blame her for. What I do blame her for was how she did it, and when.”
I lifted my eyes back to his. “At your fight?”
“Yeah, she walked out the moment I was knocked out. In front of everyone.” He shifted his position on the couch and leaned toward me. “The thing is, I fight for what I love. I would have fought for her. But she never gave me the chance. She gave up on us long before that fight.”
There was an intense part of the movie, a fight scene with Rocky and another guy that caught Destry’s eyes. “Why did you give up boxing?”
“I didn’t give up.” He shook his head looking away from the television but not at me directly. “I’m just waiting for my time to prove them wrong.”
I’m not sure what that meant, or that I even understood it. For the most part, I believed, as I’ve seen, Destry didn’t say anything he didn’t mean.
“I’ve heard people say you threw the fight… lost on purpose… did you?”
He hesitated before answering. “People have their theories. Everyone thinks I gave up all because I lost the title. That’s not true. I didn’t. I just… I walked away to give myself time to find me.” He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Somewhere along the way I forgot why I loved boxing and was doing it for a purse.”
He never directly answered the question but I didn’t expect him to.
“And have you? Have you found that reason?”
I was beginning to understand that Destry didn’t talk just to talk. When he spoke, his words were chosen carefully and said with patience. Sometimes he’d take these long pauses before speaking just to find exactly what he wanted to say. He smiled, softly. “I’d say I’m closer than I was four weeks ago.”
I smiled too, hoping that meant me, but not wanting to get my hopes up.
My eyes drifted around his bare apartment again and I wondered why he didn’t have any photographs around. I wasn’t exactly close with my family, only because they drove me nuts half the time. I knew from my research he was an only child, like myself, but wasn’t sure if he had anyone close to him. “Do you have any family besides your dad?”
“I have Danny.” His reply was snorted, as if Danny was family but not one he liked to recognize.
Through an awkward conversation one night with Danny, his uncle, while I waited for Destry, he told me about Wes Callahan, Destry’s childhood best friend but he left out a lot of details. Danny was really good at telling everyone’s business, but his own.
“And Wes Callahan, was he your trainer?”
“No. Adam’s my trainer. That guy who’s always there in the ring with me. Wes… he…” His eyes drifted to mine. I could tell by his gritty voice that he was either annoyed, or curious as to how I knew about Wes. He started to say something and then cleared his throat. “He used to be my manager. And my best friend. I’d known him since I was a smartass kid.”
“You’re still a smartass,” I laughed, “but what happened between you guys?”
Destry’s brow scrunched as he scratched the side of his face with the back of his hand. “How do you even know about Wes?”
My heart started pounding. Shit. Maybe Danny wasn’t supposed to tell me. “Danny told me that he used to be your manager.”
He nodded. “Well, last year, after my fight with Ray Lucas, he took about two-hundred grand from me and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Jesus, Danny didn’t say anything like that.”
“Wes is gonna need Jesus when I find him and Danny needs to keep his fucking mouth shut and mind his own goddamn business.”
“What’s with him anyways?”
“Danny?”
“Yeah.”
“Danny’s a fucking loser.” Destry sighed. “Fucking guy can’t stop betting his life and marriages away. I own that goddamn bar—and his house—and he’s constantly getting in deep. It’d be a blessing if one of those sharks broke his
hands so he couldn’t place the bets.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Don’t think I haven’t been tempted to do it myself.”
“So you’re kind of like, taking care of him?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, “When my pops got sick, he asked that I look after him. It’s his kid brother and he’d be crushed if anything happened to him. But the guy just doesn’t know when to say enough is enough. He’s always trying to get the easy money. Life doesn’t work that way.”
I wanted to lighten the conversation. I had to. He seemed almost sad. I could deal with an angry Destry. I could deal with him teasing me too. What I couldn’t deal with was his sadness. No way. It was too much for me. I once saw Jared cry when his dad died two years ago and it about did me in. I think I was more of an emotional wreck than he was.
So, given this state of mind, I blurted out, “Did you really know I was in the locker room that night? I’ve been dying to know that.”
Destry gave me a sigh, I’m sure thankful for the subject change, and nodded. “Yep. When I leaned back against the wall, I saw you.”
I was so embarrassed. My cheeks flushed a bright red as I covered my face with my palms. “I can’t believe you let me watch.”
He gave me a careless shrug nudging my leg with his knee. “Why not? You enjoyed the view, right? I sure as hell enjoyed having you in my line of sight.”
I gave him a nod. Nothing else. Just a nod. I was too scared to say anymore.
He chuckled and then swooped me up in his arms making me sit on his lap. “Tell me, did you?”
“It was…” I paused running my hands over his jaw. “The hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Next thing I knew, he kissed me with the same intensity he always did. Pulling back, he cradled my face in his hands pushing my hair from my face. I was expecting him to say something, but he didn’t. He only stared at me, like he was overcoming some sort of emotion.
