Fighting Back (Fighting For Love Book 5)

by James, Marysol

  Luke was as tall as Nick was, and even broader through the chest and upper arms. What Nick was focused on, however, was Luke’s left hand… or rather, his missing left hand. Luke had lost it in Afghanistan but as always, Luke was all confidence and swagger and in an odd way, Nick barely noticed his stump, hardly took in its existence at all. It had always been that way and right now, he envied Luke’s calm acceptance, since for the first time, he really, truly understood what it actually was.

  It was grace. And Nick now knew just how hard Luke must have worked to get it.

  Luke extended his large right hand and Nick grasped it. “Good to see you again, Nick.”

  “You too.”

  Luke lifted his chin to the others, and one by one, they approached. It was a dizzying blur of names, but Nick nodded at the dozen or so men, murmured greetings. He figured that he’d get to know everyone eventually, but a few stood out.

  The guy who he’d spoken to first – the guy with the silver eyes and the rough voice – was Keegan. A man with long blond hair and a badly-scarred face was Zack. A guy bristling with anger so big that Nick could almost see it was Dalton. Beyond these three, though, nobody else stuck.

  Everyone sat, most of the guys cradling cups of coffee on their knees. Nick glanced around, trying to figure out why each man was there, what they were missing. His eyes fell on some prosthetic arms and hands, and he found himself wondering if Luke wore one at all.

  He’d been coming to The Rock to kick-box for years, and in all that time, Nick had never seen the man with a prosthetic; he’d never even wondered about it, not until this moment, and now he found himself very curious about that fact. He made a mental note to ask Luke about that later.

  The rest of the guys looked…. well. They looked completely whole and totally normal. But then again, as he sat there in his jeans and tight t-shirt, so did Nick. You had to get his clothes off to see what wasn’t there, and he knew that for many of these men, the story was the same. They could hide the loss, whatever it was… but at some point, you had to stand there naked and face it.

  Nick knew now that it was the ultimate kind of reckoning, and he hoped that some of these men had a Mia in their lives. A woman who wanted them despite what they were missing; a woman who was willing to work through it all with them. A woman who was patient and sweet, understanding and tough as hell.

  A woman who still wanted to get in to bed with them, who still found them physically and sexually attractive. Nick just hoped that they could help him figure this part out, because right at this moment, he couldn’t imagine making love with Mia without worrying about how she’d react.

  He was terrified of hurting her somehow and scared to death that he’d disappoint her. But if he were being totally honest with himself, then the big fear – the really massive one – was that he’d repulse her. That she’d take one look at his scarred flesh and be turned off and run screaming. Seeing as Nick could hardly look at it himself, he wouldn’t or couldn’t blame Mia if she thought it ugly.

  Worse than that, though, and absolutely worst of all, Nick was petrified that she’d sleep with him out of pity, or out of obligation to the memory of what they once had. Mercy fucks from Mia would kill him, he knew; they’d kill him in every way that mattered.

  Nick took a deep breath and braced himself for being honest with a bunch of strangers. Talking about feelings didn’t come easy to him, but he’d promised Mia that he’d try. He’d promised himself, too.

  “So,” Luke said. “How are you guys doing?”

  A murmur of fine’s and OK’s rippled around the room. Luke glanced around, caught Nick’s eye and smiled.

  “Nick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You feel like talking?”

  “Uh, sure.” Nick cleared his throat. “About what?”

  “What do you think, man?” said Dalton, almost vibrating with rage, his green eyes as cold as ice. “About why you’re here, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Dalton,” said some guy with dark hair and eyes, the reproof evident in his voice.

  “What, Shep?” Dalton responded. “We gonna pretend that Nick here ain’t missing his goddamn leg?”

  “Shut up,” said a third man, and Nick thought maybe he was called Josh or Jones or something like that. Definitely a ‘J’ name. “Jesus, Dalton, stop being such an asshole. Or at least, try to stop just for five minutes, yeah?” He turned to Nick, his blue eyes so dark they were almost purple. “You talk about whatever you want, Nick. No pressure and no agenda. You tell us what you want us to know and nothing more.”

  “I – well…” Nick looked around. “I’m – I’m new here.”

  Dalton sighed heavily, rolled his eyes. Nick saw that every man except for Luke glared at Dalton. Nick paused, losing confidence by the second.

  “You from Denver?” asked one guy with a neck tattoo.

  “Yeah. Well, kind of. From outside Clarity.”

  “Nice little town,” Neck Tattoo remarked gently. “I worked down there for one summer when I was home from college. A place called Open Skies Ranch. You know it?”

  Nick’s face lit up. “Sure. I spent some time there with my girlfriend last year.”

  “She still your girl?” Dalton said. “Now that you’re a cripple?”

  “Fuck you, Dalton,” Nick snarled before he could stop himself. “I ain’t a cripple and if you don’t believe me, come on over here and say that again. I’ll knock your fucking teeth out, I swear it.”

  Collectively, the other men laughed and then gave a cheer.

  “Atta boy, Nick,” said Keegan. “Don’t take his shit. None of us do.”

  “And yes, Mia continues to be my girl,” Nick growled, still not done. “She’s staying that way, too. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Mmm-hmmm.” Dalton looked unmoved by either Nick’s anger or passion. “We’ll see about that.”

  “OK, enough,” Luke said now, and Dalton glanced over at him, then actually shut the hell up. “What else is on your mind, Nick?”

  Nick hesitated, then sucked up his courage. “I – I lost my leg just over four weeks ago.”

  The men froze and the room went very still and quiet. Even Dalton looked vaguely taken aback.

  “Christ, Nick,” Zack said. “This is all really new to you.”

  “Yeah,” Nick said staring at the floor. “I – I had to have it removed for medical reasons.” He looked up now. “Luke told me that most of you guys are ex-military, but I’m not. I don’t know if that makes any difference to you.”

  “In what way?” Neck Tattoo asked, his voice low.

  “Like… being a part of this group. Maybe you think that I can’t – can’t relate to what you’ve been through. What you’re going through.”

  “You lookin’ to get away from us already, man?” Keegan asked lightly. “Wanna get to your foot and run?”

  “Well, he has met Dalton,” Josh/Jones said. “Who can blame him if he wants to get the hell away from the asshole?”

  “Enough,” Luke repeated and yet again, the group settled. Nick saw that the man had the respect of every guy in the room – even the dickhead Dalton – and he relaxed a bit more. “Tell the guys what you do, Nick.”

  “Oh. I was a martial arts professional in karate, but now I own a gym with a friend of mine.” He glanced at Luke and managed a grin. “It’s called The Rock.”

  “Yeah?” said a guy with a prosthetic right hand. “So you know Adam Pierce, then.”

  “Sure do. He’s my best friend.”

  “I trained with him for about a year, back when he was a pro boxer,” said the guy. “Before I went overseas.”

  “Really?” Nick paused and thought, yet again, what a small world it was. “What’s your name, man?”

  “Danny Ford.” He smiled, ran his hand through his cropped blond hair. “Give Adam my greetings
, huh?”

  “I will.” Nick cleared his throat. “Anyway, I was a pro martial arts karate guy for about five years, but then my left leg was badly broken in a competition. The tibia was pulverized, actually, and even though I recovered, the internal damage was permanent and the injury ended my career about four years early, I figure. I got into bartending and then me and Adam opened The Rock. I did some teaching, and we ran the business together and got it off the ground. But…” He stopped.

  The men were watching him closely now, though none of them said a word.

  Nick sighed. “But the internal damage to my leg… it got worse. The nerves at the break site never regenerated properly and over time, they formed a tumor called a neuroma. I was able to handle the pain with injections, but there was no way that could go on for longer than a couple of months. So…” Again, he broke off. “So – amputation was the only option on the table.”

  “Shit,” Zack said. “Really? No way to remove the tumor locally?”

  “No. None.” Nick shook his head, but it was a slow, affectionate gesture. “Mia called every damn clinic in North America and asked that very question, and the answer came back the same every time.”

  “Sorry, man,” Keegan said. “I lost my left leg, too.”

  Nick’s eyes dropped to Keegan’s leg. “Yeah?”

  “Mmmm-hmmm.” He stretched it out in front of him and Nick heard the thunk of metal. “Two years ago now. In Afghanistan.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Dalton growled. “You’re sorry, he’s sorry, everybody’s sorry.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Nick said, stunned at the guy’s constant attacks and general pissy mood. “What’s your fucking damage, man?”

  “Yeah, that’s an awesome question, actually,” Neck Tattoo drawled. “What is your damage, Dalton? You gonna finally share that with us, huh?”

  “Hey,” Luke’s voice was harsh. “Nobody has the right to ask that of anybody who doesn’t want to talk about it, and you know that, Chad. Dalton doesn’t have to share that.”

  “Oh,” Chad of the neck tattoo said. “But he has the right to be a prick to all and sundry, right? He gets to act like a whiny little brat every single meeting, but nobody gets to call him on his shit? He can demand that Nick spill his guts and talk about what he’s lost that qualifies him to be here, like Nick has to even fucking explain or justify himself, but Dalton gets to hang on to all his secrets… including exactly why he’s here. Is that how this goes, Rhodes?”

  “No,” Luke said mildly. “No, I’m sure that Dalton can see how hypocritical such a thing would be. Right, Dalton?”

  “Uh,” Dalton said, then he looked around. It must have been clear to even him that he’d pushed his shit a bit too far this time, because he backed down. “Yeah. That’d be about right. Sorry, Nick. I was being a moody asshole.”

  “When are you not?” Chad muttered.

  “So.” Luke’s voice was commanding, and the men all looked at him. “You’ve all met Nick and in the interest of full disclosure, I’ve known him for a while.”

  “From The Rock, yeah?” Zack said, pushing his long hair back. “From when you go and beat the crap out of people for fun?”

  Luke flashed a grin. “Yep.”

  “How good is he?” Keegan asked Nick now. “At beatin’ the crap out of people?”

  Nick cocked his head. “He’s the best at it. Hell, I wouldn’t dare to take him on.” He paused and was surprised that he actually felt like making a joke. “Not even back when I had two damn legs.”

  Startled at his levity, the other men actually chuckled and Luke’s grin widened. And then to his utter shock, Nick did something that he hadn’t done since this whole goddamn nightmare had started.

  He laughed.

  **

  “So. What’d you think?” Luke took a sip of beer, watched Nick closely. “You coming back?”

  “Oh, for sure,” Nick said. “When’s the next meeting?”

  “Every Monday and Wednesday.”

  “I’ll be there.” Nick drank some beer, then paused. “Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I – is it OK if I ask a few things?”

  Luke narrowed his eyes. “If it’s about the other guys, I can’t say too much.”

  “No, I get that…”

  “But?”

  “But.” Nick looked around the bar and collected his thoughts. “What’s Dalton’s story? Why is he so – why is he like that?”

  Luke shook his dark head. “Can’t say.”

  “But you know?”

  “I do,” Luke said heavily. “He and I talked before he joined the group, and he told me everything. But the cardinal rule of the group is that nobody has to talk if they don’t want to, and you guys share what you want when you’re ready. Not before.”

  “And he’s never shared?”

  “Not yet.” Luke sighed. “And he’s not the only one.”

  “No?”

  “Nuh-uh. There are three or four guys who have never talked openly about what happened to them.” Luke hesitated. “One guy actually can’t talk about it. Like, literally.”

  “How come?”

  “Because the incident that brought him to the group took his voice.”

  “What?” Nick sat up straight, totally stunned. “What do you mean?”

  “His vocal cords were damaged to the point that he can’t speak. Probably permanently.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Nick breathed, suddenly incredibly grateful for his own loss. If he couldn’t talk to Mia, maybe not ever again? God, he’d go insane. “He was overseas?”

  “Can’t say.”

  “Oh, right. I’m sorry.” Nick stared across the table at Luke. “Can I ask something about you?”

  “Sure.” Luke shrugged, his muscles rippling. “Anything.”

  “Do you have – do you ever wear a prosthetic?”

  “Nope.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  “Can I ask why not?”

  “Sure.” Luke grinned. “Go ahead.”

  “OK. Why not?”

  “Because it just doesn’t work for me. I mean, I did try one for a while, but it never felt right. So I chucked it to the back of my closet and worked out how to do stuff with just one hand and using my stump. That feels more natural to me, though lots of guys in our group love their prosthetic hands. It’s an individual decision, Nick.”

  Nick nodded slowly. “Anyone refuse to use a prosthetic leg?”

  “Nope. I think legs are different, since if you don’t use one, you then hop everywhere or you use some kind of cane, maybe even a wheelchair. It’s way harder than a hand, since it majorly affects mobility. That’s what I’ve been told, anyway.”

  “Yeah. I can see that.”

  “So,” Luke said cautiously. “How’s your leg feeling?”

  Nick glanced down. “Sometimes sore, by the end of the day.”

  “The rubbing?”

  “Yeah. But it’s my fault, not the equipment.” Nick grimaced, stretched a bit. “I’m no pixie, man, and even though I’m trying to distribute my weight, I’m still leaning too hard on the fake limb. Sometimes, I lose my concentration and I think I push two hundred pounds down on that tiny, localized spot, and when I do… man, do I feel it later. The liner helps, but it still smarts.”

  “Ouch.” Luke winced. “And how’re things with Mia?”

  Nick stiffened. “OK.”

  “Yeah?” Luke asked softly. “For real?”

  “Um.” He paused, stared at Luke’s face. Why was he lying to a man who could help him? Luke had an amazing girlfriend named Selena, and so he’d clearly figured out how to be OK with the physical side of things. Nick needed that body confidence and acceptance, and damned if he was going to pretend. Not
anymore. “No, not for real. I lied. Things are… they’re better in some ways, but still rough in others.”

  “You wanna tell me?”

  Nick ran a finger over the label on his beer bottle. “I – yeah.”

  Luke leaned back, giving Nick space. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Nick nodded quietly, his eyes fixed on the beer label. He felt the waves of calm coming over the table at him, and he tried to just relax into them. Luke Rhodes was a goddamn survivor of a foreign war, one that had taken his hand, and despite that trauma, the man had made a whole new life after. A good life.

  If he could, then Nick could, too. Maybe he just needed a few pointers.

  “Well,” Nick began. “Last night, we… we slept almost naked in the same bed. Just slept.”

  Luke regarded him. “Was that the first time since the surgery?”

  “Yes.” Nick paused. “Well, I mean… I moved in with her two weeks ago and last night was the first time that I slept in my boxers and nothing else. Until last night, I was in sweat pants and a t-shirt.”

  “OK. And?”

  “And.” Nick took a deep breath. “I made her promise to not look at me. At – my leg. I made her close her eyes when I got into bed, and I made sure to get out of bed this morning while she was still sleeping. By the time she saw me, I had the prosthetic back on and was in jeans.”

  “Because?”

  “Because…” Nick’s voice trailed off. “Because it’s ugly.”

  “Has she not seen your amputation scar or the stump? Like, at all?”

  “No. I haven’t let her.” Nick swallowed hard. “I think – I don’t want her to be upset. I’m trying to protect her.”

  “Are you protecting her, Nick? Or yourself?”

  Nick’s head snapped up and he glared at Luke. “What the actual hell, Rhodes?”

  “Oh, come on.” Luke looked impatient and Nick knew that all of his blustering and avoiding was going to fly exactly nowhere with the man. “Talk to me or don’t, but don’t fucking bullshit me. Who are you protecting by not letting Mia see you as you are now? Her? Or you?”