by Lane Hart
And lately, I’ve been so exhausted after working all day that I’m asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
It’s like we’re living two separate lives. Jax barely talks to me anymore, and he definitely doesn’t talk about his feelings or tell me what’s going on with him.
There’s a crack in the foundation between us that seems to get a little bigger each day. If we don’t try and close it soon, I’m afraid it will swallow us and everything we’ve built together down inside of it. Even Xavier.
I don’t want our son to be raised in two different homes because his parents are divorced. I don’t want to lose the man I love either, but I refuse to let Xavier be raised in a house with a father who can’t control his anger. Our son shouldn’t grow up thinking it’s okay to hit people whenever they make you mad.
That’s why I was so glad that Jax decided to retire from the cage before Xavier got old enough to see or hear about his fights.
But without the fighting, Jax doesn’t have an outlet for all the aggression and rage that builds up inside of him. It’s time for him to learn how to deal with those feelings like an adult, though, and not a toddler having a temper tantrum. Jax needs anger management and counseling. And if he’s not willing to do that for us, for our family, then he doesn’t deserve to have us, no matter how much I love him.
Chapter Five
Jax
“Jax!”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Jude continues to yell from the other side of my childhood bedroom he’s banging on. Coming here to my dad’s and now Sadie’s mom’s house, since they recently got married, was my only option unless I wanted to get a hotel room. Being alone two weeks before Christmas just seemed too pathetic, even for me. Now, I’m sort of wishing for the peace and quiet.
“Jax, open up!”
“Go away,” I grumble into my pillow that’s tucked under my head. Maybe I should try putting it over my face to drown out all the noise my annoying little brother is making.
“Get your ass up and say hello to me, you grumpy bastard!” he shouts.
“Later!” I reply.
Honestly, if I weren’t in such a foul mood it would be good to see my brother. Now that he lives in North Carolina, he only visits a few times a year. But right now, seeing Jude, who is always so peppy and happy, would just remind me how much my life sucks.
My wife is scared of me, and my son thinks I’m an angry giant.
Those are two things I never saw coming, but probably should have.
I’m a miserable human being, so it makes all sorts of sense that I would drag down everyone else in my life.
“Do you want me to break in there and dump water on you? Because I’m pretty sure I still owe you one,” Jude threatens, reminding me of those weeks he was holed up in his room across the hall, lovesick and depressed about Sadie.
I’ve spent my entire life sulking over shit, and all my brother has had to deal with is a few measly weeks where things weren’t going perfectly in his world.
Knowing Jude will make good on his threat if I don’t answer the door, I finally heave myself out of bed with a huff of annoyance and jerk the door open in my gray sweatpants and white tee.
“Merry Christmas, bro!” Jude says with a cheesy grin and his arms open wide for a hug. Knowing he won’t expect it, and needing to work some of my frustration out, I haul back and slap the shit out of his face, causing his head to nearly spin. If nothing else, that’ll provoke a good old fight from him.
“Dude! What the fuck!” he exclaims before he comes at me, slamming my back against the opposite bedroom wall.
“You could’ve just left me alone!” I tell him while kneeing him in the stomach and dodging his fist flying at my face.
The two of us grapple and swing at each other until our dad eventually comes in and breaks it up, pulling Jude off of me and stepping between us.
“What’s the matter with you two? I thought you were grown-ass men. Guess I was wrong,” Dad says with an arm on both of our heaving chests.
“He started it!” Jude glares at me and mutters.
“Give your brother some slack. He’s about as low as a man can get,” our dad tells him.
“If I had to guess, I would bet it’s his own damn fault!” Jude replies.
“Fuck you,” I snap at him.
“It’s Christmas, goddamn it! And we are gonna get along and act like a normal fucking family!” Dad shouts between us. “Now, if the two of you want to beat the shit out of each other, do it in the cage!”
“Let’s go!” I agree.
“Try and keep up with me, old man,” Jude taunts. “I’ll meet you at Havoc in ten.”
“Fine.”
“I’ll call Don and tell him to clear out innocent bystanders,” Dad grumbles before he nudges Jude out of the room with his hands on his back and shuts the door behind him.
…
Page
“Mommy, where’s Daddy?” Xavier asks as we sit at the dining table and eat our pancakes — Jax’s empty seat and my son’s words are a glaring reminder of what happened last night.
Clearing the emotion from my throat, I struggle with what to tell him. “Daddy…Daddy had some Christmas shopping to do. He’s…he’s looking for our presents and doesn’t want us to see them until he gets them wrapped…”
“Will he be back soon?” our son asks with wide, hopeful eyes, the same dark chocolate as Jax’s.
“Um, well, I don’t know how long it will take him to shop this year to find everything on the list. He may have to, ah, go out of town and take a few days…” Or weeks. Or months. Or …
“Are you staying home with me today? Daddy lets me ride my bike in the park if it’s not too cold, and we go to the zoo and the aquarium…”
The reminder of all the things I’ve missed doing with them while I was at work makes my chest squeeze so tight I can barely breathe. And since I haven’t heard from Jax this morning and refuse to call him to start the day with an argument, I’ll have to take Xavier to the preschool right near my office.
“I need to go to work for just a little while, so you get to spend the day meeting new friends and playing with them,” I tell Xavier. Socializing with kids his own age will be good for him. He’s four and a half, so he needs to have the structure before he starts kindergarten.
“Will you be there too?” he asks.
“No, little man. I have to go to work. But I’ll be right down the street,” I assure him. “I bet you can even see my building from the playground.”
“They have a playground?” he asks, eyes widening and growing more interested.
“They sure do,” I tell him. “We’ll have to take your hat and gloves so you’ll stay warm if you get to go out today. But they have a ton of toys inside too that you get to play with.”
“Okay,” he agrees with a smile.
An hour later and I’ve filled out all the paperwork at the daycare while Xavier played. He seems perfectly happy, yet I still find it nearly impossible to leave him.
Going over to where he’s playing with a dump truck scooping up Legos, I squat down and put my arm around his back to tell him, “I’ve got to get to work, but I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?” I ask.
“Bye, Mommy,” he replies without even lifting his eyes from the building blocks.
“Bye, little man. Love you,” I say with a quick kiss to his forehead before I get to my feet.
Jeez, I haven’t even made it to the parking lot yet and I’m a tearful mess leaving him. He could obviously not care less. Sure, he’s spent a few hours here and there at pre-school or with Crissy babysitting, but leaving him someplace new is still hard.
“He’ll be fine,” Nancy, one of the teachers, comes over and tells me.
“I know he will. I’m just used to leaving him at home with his father...”
“Being with older kids will be great for his development,” she assures me with a smile. “We have all of your contact information, so we’ll call if w
e need you.”
“Thanks,” I tell her before I force my feet to carry me out the door with just one last look over my shoulder. Xavier is still building a tower and seems perfectly fine.
I can’t believe Jax hasn’t even called this morning to ask if he needs to watch Xavier while I go to work. Of course I didn’t tell him he couldn’t see our son, just that I thought it would be best if he got his temper under control before it spills out around our son. I mean, Jax physically assaulted one of my clients in public!
Instead of heading straight to my office, I pull over at my dad’s building first to go talk to Logan. Over the last few years, my brother has gone from being a carbon copy of my stuffy, emotionless father to now my closest friend. He came through for me when I screwed up Jax’s criminal case; and ever since then, things have been different between us. Better. He no longer treats me like his dumb kid sister but as an equal. And it’s nice since my father still doesn’t give me any credit for what I’ve accomplished on my own handling sports contracts.
“Hey, Tracy, is my brother busy?” I ask their receptionist.
“Good morning, Page! Let me check,” she says before picking up the telephone and pressing a few buttons. “Logan? Page is here to see you. Will do, thanks!” she says into the receiver before placing it back on the cradle. “He said to come on back.”
“Great, thank you,” I tell her before I slip down the hallway and make a left for Logan’s office. His door is open wide. Inside, he’s sitting behind the desk that’s overflowing with law books.
“Hi, Logie. Ever heard of the internet?” I tease before I take a seat in one of the guest chairs across from him. Since law school, I’ve been looking up statutes and case law online, which is so much better than having to go through a ton of heavy books.
“I like holding them in my hand. For some reason, I recall the information easier from a book than I do the computer screen.”
“To each his own,” I mutter with a sigh.
“So, you still dealing with the fallout from last night?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest when he leans back in his chair.
“Jax was gone by the time I got home,” I tell him while biting my bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
“Jeez, I’m sorry, sis. Is it…temporary?” Logan asks.
“Who knows?” I answer, throwing my hands up in the air. “He thinks I’m cheating on him.”
“Are you?”
“God, no,” I scoff in response.
“Sorry. I didn’t think so, but you know what they say about assuming,” he replies.
“Why would he think that?” I ask my brother since he’s a guy.
“Because you’re gone all day –”
“I’m working,” I interrupt.
“Yes, I know that, but you’re working with young, attractive, famous athletes. How would you feel if Jax were spending his days with, say, Playboy models?”
“First of all, you called them attractive,” I have to point that out and tease him before I can respond. “Secondly, I’m not with those guys all day. They send me their contracts, or actually, their managers and agents send me contracts to review without even meeting them face to face most of the time.”
“With the exception of Preston McNair?”
“He’s local and it’s the off season, so he hand-delivered and picked up his documents,” I reply with a shrug.
“Ever heard of the internet?” Logan throws my own question back at me.
“Apparently he had the original and no digital copies. It was short notice.”
“Did you explain all that to Jax?”
“No,” I answer. “Why do I need to tell him which clients I meet with personally? What’s next? Reporting to him who I talk to on the phone? Email? I mean, come on! They’re clients. The most personal we get is to ask about the weather.”
Tilting his blond head to the side in that condescending way I’ve come to expect from my brother, he asks, “If that’s it, then why do you sound so defensive?”
“I dunno,” I mutter, fidgeting with my hands in my lap.
“Page?”
“We’re just friends,” I explain, which causes Logan to arch an eyebrow.
“To whom are you referring?”
“Preston and me. He stops by, chitchats or whatever, but there’s nothing…romantic about our meetings. I was just…lonely, and he’s so outgoing and upbeat...”
“Unlike Jax?”
“You know that I love my husband, but I’ve been dealing with things he doesn’t understand, and I’ve kept my mouth shut around him because I’m afraid he’ll explode.”
“You think he’ll yell at you?”
“No. He doesn’t yell at me. It’s just more like he yells and is angry at the world. Xavier and I just happen to also be in that world and the closest targets.”
“And you want him to stop being so angry?”
“Yeah, that would be nice, but I don’t know how to make that happen,” I admit in frustration. “I can’t make him change. He has to do it for himself; and the best way is probably through therapy, which he’ll never agree to.”
“Maybe he will, if you tell him that’s what you want him to do.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” I ask in concern.
“Then you’ll have to try something else, right? Either keep trying or give up.”
“I don’t want to give up. I’m just not very optimistic,” I admit.
“Oh, and you’ll need to get rid of Preston,” my brother adds.
“But he’s my biggest client and we’re friends!” I argue.
Heaving a sigh of annoyance, Logan says, “Page, just get rid of him. He’s not worth losing Jax over, is he?”
“No,” I reply with a shake of my head, not even having to consider who I need more in my life.
Chapter Six
Jax
“So, what did you do this time?” Jude asks through his mouthpiece as we circle each other in the cage at Havoc, both of us wearing helmets and gloves because we’re so worked up we don’t want to permanently injure each other.
“Nothing,” I mutter while ducking to avoid his jab and nailing his ribs with mine.
“Page just kicked you out for no reason?” he asks. “Yeah, right. You must have fucked up big time.”
My blood pressure skyrockets at the reminder of my epic screw up. Do I regret punching that motherfucker? Hell no, but I do regret upsetting Page and finding out she’s afraid of me.
So, I take all of my pent-up frustrations out on my brother like I’ve done so many times before growing up. I was always jealous of Jude, and now is no different. He’s the best Middleweight fighter in the world after beating me and taking my belt. He’s training for more fights and living with his girlfriend, who he gets along with great, and he has tons of friends down in Cary. I bet he never feels like a complete failure at life or worthless because his career is done and over.
All I am is a stay-at-home dad. Every day. All day.
There are no championship belts for how awesome I am at cooking for my son or playing with him. No crowds gather and cheer when I take out the garbage or shovel snow from the sidewalk. It’s just me and my kid.
Page is always gone.
At first, I was so damn happy for her, starting her own practice and growing her client base.
But now I hate it. I’m tired of hearing about the accomplishments of the talented men she works with every day. The athletes who are all better than me at their sport and going strong in their careers.
What can I offer Page other than childcare for our son and taking care of household chores? Someone may as well cut off my balls for all I’m worth.
I miss the publicity, the thrill of the win, the admiration. Hell, I even miss the respect I was given as a badass fighter who could take on anyone.
Except my brother.
I’m not going easy on Jude today. He’s getting hit with everything I’ve been saving up inside for months. The frustration.
Anger. Insecurities. Doubts.
My wife and son are scared of me. Page refuses to let me touch her. There’s nothing I can give her, and she doesn’t want anything from me lately. All of that together has slowly been driving me fucking insane!
When I finally snap back into the present, I realize just how heavy both my arms are and how out of breath I am. How long have Jude and I been swinging at each other?
“Done,” I tell him with a final shove before I prop my back against the fence to try and suck in some oxygen.
My legs are also noticeably like jelly, so I slide down until my ass hits the canvas.
“Do you…feel…any better?” Jude asks from across the cage where he’s also sitting, trying to recover.
Do I feel any better?
Did trying to sock the brains out of my little brother’s head get me back into my house? Into my bed with my wife?
“Fuck no,” I grumble, throwing my head back while I continue to pant.
“Is there…anything…that will?” he asks.
Going back in time to figure out how not to be an asshole?
Shaking my head in response, I lower my forehead onto my arms propped up on my knees. I’m not even all that surprised when tears mix with the sweat dripping down my cheeks. If a man can’t cry when he loses everything, then when can he?
Fuck, I’m such a pussy, and the waterworks only prove that point.
“What the fuck happened, Jax?” Jude asks when he comes over. The cage rattles when he props his back against it next to me. “I’m sorry I gave you shit earlier.”
“She kicked me out,” I tell him, wiping the dampness away on the sleeve of my tee. “Last night Page pretty much told me she wanted me gone.”
“Jesus,” my brother mutters. “Why?”
“I knocked out one of her asshole clients,” I confess, which makes Jude bark out a laugh.
