“So you got involved, too.” She rubbed her hand along his stomach and rested it on his hip as he grunted the affirmative.
“We worked for years, lots of years, bringing in guys, recruiting them, the younger the better. Young kids didn’t ask questions. José and I brought them into the life, and we’d flash a wad of cash in their faces and they’d follow us anywhere. Those twelve – and thirteen-year-old kids did anything the Boyz said with blind devotion. And José and I were responsible for keeping the kids committed, for keeping them loyal, and punishing them when they weren’t.”
Ava continued listening.
“One night, José has this idea. He said we should hustle into the Zoes’ hood. Fucking foolish, thinking about it now. Couple of Latin kids, running in Haitian gang territory. None of those boys were going to come with us. They wouldn’t join us. The Zoes was a gang you didn’t leave. You can’t just walk out. But José and the Boyz didn’t see it that way. They saw José’s move as an attempt to step up and give the Zoes a big fuck-you. Crazy. But José said that one day he wanted to make big money. He wanted a room full of choppers.”
Ava lifted her head. “Choppers?”
“AK-47s. He was lured in by everything that kind of life offered. But most of all, my kid brother wanted respect. He wanted to be somebody someday, and not a person somebody forgot.” A tear formed in Mike’s eye. He brushed it away before it fell. “So I told him, ‘Where you go, I go.’”
Ava’s arm squeezed him.
“José had a plan. Recruit in rival territory. Show the neighborhood there was more than one option when you want to initiate. I was supposed to meet him at midnight, talk to the kids that worked the corners. I was different then, not quite as punctual as I am now. By the time I arrived at twelve fifteen, José was dead. I missed saving my brother by fifteen minutes. He bled out in the street from a single gunshot wound to his stomach. I found him lying in the middle of the street like trash. I called for help, but there was nothing they could do. The Zoes used my brother to send a message. You don’t recruit on their turf. They gave José what he wanted. In the end, they made him somebody the Boyz wouldn’t forget.”
Ava lifted her head and faced him. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Heaviness settled in his chest, recalling the old memories. “It’s not a past I’m proud of. I couldn’t protect my little brother. Ultimately, I’m a failure.”
“No,” Ava cried.
He gave a half shrug. “I let him down.”
Ava climbed up his body, resting her head on his shoulder. “You can’t think of it like that. You did the best you could.”
“Not only that, I hurt people who tried to hurt him.”
She nodded. “Of course you did. He was blood, family.” She rubbed a hand over his skin, calming him. “How did you get out unharmed?”
“After José died, I confessed everything. I made a deal and gave the cops everything they needed to shut down the Boyz. But I couldn’t do shit about the Zoes. They do what they do to this day, drugs, guns, and lots of violence.”
She squeezed him.
“When I finally told Mom she had no choice but to move out of the neighborhood. What we did cost her our home, everything she worked for. She sold out and lives with my aunt and uncle in a town north of Miami. That’s when I left for Vegas. I couldn’t live with my family.”
“Why not?” Concern lined Ava’s voice.
“My mom, aunt, and uncle blamed me for not protecting José. His death was my fault. I wasn’t there. They were right. There wasn’t anything they could say that would make me feel worse than I did, but I couldn’t take how they looked at me. Like I disgusted them.”
“So you exiled yourself as punishment?”
“I guess you can say that.”
Her lower lip trembled. “Oh, Mike.”
An acidic wash gushed through his stomach. He didn’t know how much more he could say. Sickness threatened to rise in his throat. His epic failure had cost him his brother’s life, and talking about it made the memories seem as real as they’d been all those years ago.
“How is your relationship with your family now? Surely, after all this time they’ve accepted that what happened wasn’t your fault.”
He dipped his head to the side. “I don’t know. I send my mother money. She keeps it. If that’s what’s called forgiveness, I pay the price.”
“You don’t have to pay penance. You did nothing wrong.”
His gaze landed on the floor. “I did. I failed him.”
Ava leaned up on her elbow. Heat glowed on her face. “Don’t you understand that if you had been there with your brother you could be dead, too? Does your family understand that?”
He didn’t answer. He knew when grief mixed with blame it created a poison with no antidote, and there wasn’t enough time or space to dilute it. To himself and his family, that’s what he was, a toxin. A potent reminder of what they’d lost.
He didn’t want to think about the past. He liked it where it was, locked away somewhere deep inside. Snaking his hands around her, he squeezed her flesh.
“This is all off the record. My family doesn’t need to relive their loss. It was hard enough for them to bear the first time.”
“I’m so sorry.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Time heals everything, including the past. You’re here with me, and that’s all that matters.”
He kissed her back and settled deep into the pillows, hoping like hell she was right.
Chapter Twenty-three
With Mike in the shower, an easy comfort filled Ava as she listened to the water. Her body was sated in every way. Her physical and sexual hunger was satisfied to the point of lazy exhaustion. Part of her wanted to stop time and be in the moment with Mike. She’d love nothing more than to shut the door, stay right where they were, and focus on each other.
That wasn’t reality.
Now, she understood Mike’s past would always be in the room with them, because it was always with him. He thought he failed José, and he carried his mistake around with him like a weight he couldn’t unload. At first what she thought was Mike’s passion she knew now as pain that fueled him.
He lived a regimented life because his failure to be at the right place at the right time had resulted in a catastrophe, a life-shattering event. He felt his brother’s loss so deeply she was sure he’d never forgive himself. Her instincts, the ones that told her Mike had a story, had been right. However, she didn’t expect this. Normally, when her belly quivered at the hint of a potential story, the feeling led her to uncover an athlete with too much ego and not enough common sense, somebody who’d made one bad decision too many.
But Mike, his story was tragedy and loss.
There was no way to spin this to make Ed happy. Editors were so hard to please. Her boss would expect Ava to root out the story behind the story, dive into his gang-related past, and expose the ugliness of his childhood. And if he were anyone else, she would have. But like it or not, she had to tell Ed she had no story. Her instincts had betrayed her, and nothing she’d learned on the record about Mike would sell a paper. She only hoped he believed her.
She rose from the bed and searched in her bag for her most comfortable dress. She pulled on the indigo-colored cotton and paired it with a jean jacket and patterned sandals. Then, she walked to the bathroom door and knocked twice.
“I’m stepping outside for a bit,” she told Mike.
He acknowledged her with a water-logged okay as she took her cell phone and exited the cottage. She lifted her hand and waved to Caleb sweeping the back porch of the Inn. He flashed a nice, wide smile.
Nice guy, that Caleb.
To the rear of the cottage sat an overgrown flower garden. The tranquil place called to her. It seemed like the perfect spot to confess to her boss she’d been wrong. A bench was placed beneath a small tree. Ava sat and dialed Ed’s number.
“Yellow.” Her teeth clenched.
“Hi, Ed. It’s Ava.�
��
Silence.
“About Mike Perez. I just don’t think there’s a story here after all.” She sighed. “I told you I was onto something, and I thought I was, but he’s just a regular guy who wants to win against Littleton.”
Ed cleared his throat. “With all the delays I thought you may be having some trouble. I had Abby do some digging.”
Her lips pursed. With the downsizing in the newspaper industry everyone wore two hats. Abby, Ed’s assistant, helped out with research. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
“Oh really,” she said with all the interest she could muster. “What’d Abby find?”
“Juvie records. At fifteen, Michael Perez was arrested for assault. His school records also indicated he was kicked out for behavior problems. Looks like your guy needed anger management at birth.”
“Guess he found the right profession.” Ava made light of their findings. Maybe they’d accept the paper trail for what it was—a path to professional boxing.
“If you can’t get the interview,” Ed told her, “go after the paper. That’s the first rule of journalism. Always report the facts. Your guy has a violent past, and that predicts a violent future. There’s a story there. Dig it out.”
“I just don’t think . . .”
“We’re emailing you everything you need to confront this guy.” His voice hardened, interrupting her. “In the newspaper business, Ava, there are no second chances.”
She didn’t need to be reminded. She’d reviewed case studies in journalism school of how reporters ruined themselves without trying. Withholding information in a story was a career killer. Now that Ed knew a paper trail led to Mike’s past, he’d expect her to follow what he’d laid out for her.
“Remember,” he barked. “I have to update the publisher this Friday. Do not make me go into his office empty-handed.”
She let out a long calming breath. “You’ll have it. I promise.”
As the call ended, she looked up and found Mike walking toward her. The man was everything she’d ever wanted. Tough. Dependable. Rock solid. But was he tough enough to stand up to his past? It was almost time to find out.
Chapter Twenty-four
Another day passed in a blur and dawn came early. Mike laughed under his breath, rousing Ava out of bed. She’d fallen asleep fast. They both did, and crashed out until the sun came up. He’d never slept as soundly as he did holding her. They’d spent the day before together. Doing things couples did. Having lunch. Shopping. Making love. All of it was unlike anything he was used to.
Yet, it didn’t feel strange.
However, today reality set in. They needed to get going. The days inched closer to his fight with Littleton, and Anderson, Oklahoma, as nice as it was, was a far cry from New York City.
“Let’s go, sleepyhead.” He prodded Ava with his hand. “We’ve got to get to Springfield, Ohio, by six. The truck’s gassed up and ready to go.”
They had miles to cover. A thirteen-hour drive lay ahead of them, making up for lost time. Not wanting him to lose his edge, his trainer had arranged for a sparring match once they arrived in Springfield. Driving all day was a bitch, but sparring satisfied him. With all the crazy good feeling swirling in his belly because of Ava, it’d be nice to knock the hell out of someone so he didn’t forget why he was with her in the first place.
She sat up slow and passed her hand through her hair, brushing away sleep. “Ava, shake a leg. We’re sparring tonight.”
Maybe she’d forgotten. Nah. She’d been beside him when he’d taken Daniella’s call. Ava’d said it was an excellent opportunity. So why was she dragging ass? “Babe, we have to go.”
Naked, she planted her feet on the floor, but sat on the bed, looking at him. “You know, I needed it to be you.”
He cocked his head to the side, perplexed. They stared at each other. Then her words caught up to him. She was talking about feelings and emotions, all the things he avoided.
“I needed someone to open my eyes. There’s more to professional sports than money, fame, and ego. I needed to see the other side of this business, and you showed it to me. No matter what happens, I need you to know, you showed that to me.”
Inside, his heart melted. Outside, he stomped across the floor and crushed his lips to hers. She yielded to him, kissing him with intensity as if it may be the last time their lips touched.
But he wouldn’t stand for her pulling away. Not now. Not after she’d worked so hard to break down all of his barriers. Her lids were hooded, but desire for him smoldered in her eyes. He knew it. He felt it.
Whatever she was thinking, she could stop. She was his now. He wasn’t going anywhere.
He broke their kiss and gazed down on her. God, if they didn’t have to hit the road, he’d steal half an hour and do her like her body demanded. Until then, he’d let it build. The burning need in his gut. The sexual tension curling around his spine. His body’s yearning for her like air, like water. He’d let their need build.
She was so smart. So beautiful. He knew why he hadn’t fallen for anyone else. Ava had brains and the talent. Women like her intimidated men in her field. They had to label her a bitch and a bottom-feeder to protect their own fragile egos. She hadn’t turned him out or slinked away when he told her of his past. She saw both sides of his story. She’d caught a glimpse of his pain and sorrow filled her. With her, there were no hidden agendas. There was only a woman who wanted the truth.
Tension rolling around in his gut caused his truth to fire off in his brain until he couldn’t contain the realization. He had feelings for her. Strong emotions, ones he couldn’t name, but couldn’t deny.
He focused on her. “I needed it to be you. No one has ever looked into my soul like you have. No one has ever seen the real me. They never wanted to. But you not only know the real me, you accept me for who I am and what I’ve done. I never thought I’d have someone like that. Not ever.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Baby, I knew from the first moment we met, it was always you.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Ava kept mindful of the speed limit, yet she raced to their next destination. She kept with the flow of traffic. Yeah, they were making good time. At least with her driving, the trip gave Mike a chance to rest. He’d slept, something he’d said he normally didn’t do on the road. His facial muscles eased. He seemed less tense. She hoped his newfound easiness was due to her. But she couldn’t take all the credit. She liked having him around, and not just for sex. Pleasure welled inside her at the idea of a constant companion. It felt nice having someone close.
She stole glimpses of him as he slept. After several hours passed, Mike stirred.
“Do you need to stop, baby,” she asked, “to get out and stretch?”
He rubbed his eyes. “No. Let’s push it. After we get to Springfield, I can stretch and run a few sprints. Get some quick shut-eye, and get ready to spar.” He reached over and rubbed her shoulder. “How are you doing?”
“Just fine.” She craned her neck to look at him, then returned her gaze to the road. “Who’s the guy you’re sparring?” she asked. “There are a lot of reputable gyms in Ohio.”
“Remember Chad Murphy?”
Her back straightened. “The guy from the Powerhouse Boxing Club. Yeah.” She pursed her lips. “How can I forget him? Murphy came to Vegas to fight Manny Gonzalez at Bally’s. I guess it was about two or two and a half years ago. I covered that fight for the Times. Gonzalez won, but Murphy had a fierce jab.”
Mike sat up. “Yeah, his jab is deadly.”
“Murphy was going through a rough divorce. Divorce stories sell newspapers, so I contacted his ex-wife and interviewed her. He roughed her up. She didn’t hesitate showing me the photos and restraining orders to prove it—paper doesn’t lie. The way she described it, she was terrified of him and still is.”
“Murphy’s no angel. He’s a hell of a fighter, though. He’s got anger inside him. Way down deep.”
“Do you know
him?”
Mike shrugged. “We’re acquaintances, I guess you’d say. Using the word friends would be a stretch.”
“His ex-wife said he was an abuser and a drunk. There were DUI records to back up her claims. After the story broke, Murphy’s manager sent me an email. He called me a desperate woman who was trying to tear down his guy. Totally untrue. Murphy was doing a good enough job of tearing himself down.” She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “He didn’t need help in that department. I reported his wife’s account.” She paused and let out a deep breath. “I can’t believe Daniella set you up to spar with this guy.”
He grunted. “Pound for pound, Murphy and I are an excellent matchup on paper.”
“He’s a monster. Murphy beat that woman, you know. His ex. She said he took out his frustrations after losing his fights on her, and when he drank she said the alcohol made it worse.”
Mike shifted in his seat. “Sometimes boxing attracts the wrong kind of person, which seems to be the case with Murphy.”
“Yeah,” she answered.
Mike squinted, as if he were working something out in his brain, and gazed into the distance. Then, he looked at her. “There’s paper on me.”
Ava placed a hand over her stomach. An ache crawled into the back of her throat. He must’ve figured out she had documentation on him. Paperwork that detailed part of his past. Stuff he couldn’t avoid. Yes, there was paper, and what it said wasn’t pretty.
He avoided her gaze, and Mike grabbed onto the door handle like he wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to run. “Fuck,” he said under his breath.
She sat silent.
“The fifteen-year-old me, hell, even the thirteen-year-old me never thought I’d wind up here. Fighting at the Garden. Working with kids, and loving every minute of it. Having a family was something I thought I’d never get back. And, now I have you, too. I just never thought my life would turn out to have so much good in it.”
Going The Distance (Ringside #2) Page 12
