by Anne Mercier
I’ve been working hard at this, but I still can’t allow Linc to take me from behind. I want to. I want to feel the weight of him over me, his warmth and scent surrounding me.
“Abuse stays with you for the rest of your life, Ethan. How you cope is up to you. Everyone has different ways of managing this. I’m glad you’re not pushing yourself like you were.”
I sigh, then speak quietly. “For a while, I’d push myself to see how far I could go, and I would endure. It would be okay… until after. Afterward, when the pleasure wore off and my mind started working again, I’d remember. I’d flash back to the abuse. Then the nightmares started.”
“My mom would get money for her drugs by whoring herself out. Some guys started looking at me when I was almost nine years old. Mom told them an extra fifty to see me naked.”
“Christ, she was fucked up. High on heroin and meth. I wonder if she would have done that if she’d been sober.”
“I didn’t know what to do, how to act when these guys showed up. So, I just sat there—naked—and wrote anything that came to mind. Poems, mostly. Dark, reflecting my pain. While I did that, those guys jerked off in a chair in the corner. I learned early on if I put my headphones on, I couldn’t hear them. To hear them made me sick. Hell, to see them made me sick.”
“Then came the time mom had two johns there at the same time.”
“I knew. I knew if she wasn’t nearby, someone would take advantage. And someone did.”
“While she was fucking john number one, john number two was raping me. He stole my innocence, my ability to trust anyone who stood or walked behind me. He hurt me in ways I didn’t know I could be hurt. And when he finished, he left before my mom came out.”
“I left before my mom came out, too. I don’t know how I managed to walk the six blocks to Xander’s house, but I made it. It was the only place I felt safe.”
“When Dr. Mac saw me and my blood-stained jeans, he never let me go back there again, to keep me safe—no matter how much my mom bitched. And she bitched a lot. I mean, an extra fifty could get her her next fix. Dr. Mac took care of me from then on.”
My body begins to shake with rage, disappointment, disgust.
Joan leans forward. “Breathe, Ethan. Breathe. Lean back and close your eyes. Think of someplace safe, somewhere bright and sunny.”
I do as she says. Breathing in through my nose and slowly out my mouth, the way I have so many times since I started seeing Joan for counseling. I see Linc holding Tera and Xander’s baby, blowing raspberries onto her belly, laughing in the sunshine on the patio of CFD. Our ever-expanding family there.
“Where are you now?” Joan asks.
“Home. With the family. Linc holding the baby.”
“Happiness. It’s all happiness.”
“It’s home.”
“It’s the perfect place to be. Why don’t we stop for today and pick up again next week?”
I nod. “Sounds good.”
“If you need anything between now and then, you know where to find me,” she tells me with a soft smile.
“Thanks, Joan.”
3
LINC
“THE RIBS ARE JUST bruised,” Coach tells me. Dave’s been with me from the moment I walked into Charlie’s gym nearly ten years ago. It was a dive, hidden in the middle of nowhere which is where I liked to be back then. The boxing, hitting the bag, kicking the bag, beating the hell out of the bag—it was the outlet for my rage after Tera’s attack. I felt helpless. She suffered, and there was nothing I could do to help.
Sure, I gave up the band, but that wasn’t a hardship. I wasn’t as into it like the other guys were. For them, music is like breathing. For me, I can take it or leave it.
One day Coach aka Dave approached me and asked if I’d ever done any fighting. I’d done some scrapping but nothing like real fighting. He put me in the ring with a sparring partner, and it was like the rest of the world disappeared. The anger. The rage. The hurt. All of it was centered into my fist.
In that ring, I worked my shit out.
In that ring, I found a career—one I was damn good at.
That ring and Coach saved my sanity.
I was worried he wouldn’t make the move to LA with me, but he did. He keeps telling me he’s “enjoying those California girls.” I smirk. He’s happier here. I am too.
“Next month we fight the Dragon.”
I grunt a reply as I pound the bag, ignoring the twinge in my ribs. Ethan wasn’t too happy when I got up this morning—two days after the fight—to get right back to the gym. He thought I needed to heal more. I told him, “Nothing’s broken. I’m good to go.” He just shook his head, then pressed a frustrated kiss to my lips. He let out an exasperated sound as I walked away chuckling.
“You think you’re ready for him?” Coach asks.
“Hell yeah. He’s a pussy,” I tell him honestly. I could kick his ass today—bruised ribs and all.
Coach nods. “Only half day today. Those ribs need to heal up. The cut by your eye was a lucky shot.”
“The fucker. Pisses me off I let him get one in on me.” The guy was a chump. A joke. Him and his submission bullshit. He wouldn’t stand up for the hit because he knew I’d take him down with one good punch. It’s what I’m known for. It’s why they call me K.O. or as Coach calls me, Knox. “He kept sweeping my leg. Pissed me off. Next time I’m just going out swinging.”
“One-hitter quitter,” Coach declares.
“Damn right. Boom! See ya, motherfucker. I hate wasting my time on these scrubs.”
“Step up a level,” Coach advises.
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
“You’d have to go against Jabs.”
“Jamie. Yeah, he’d be a good rival.“ It sucks fighting a friend, but it wouldn’t be the first time.”
“He might never let you borrow his jet again.”
I snort. “Please, he’d do anything for Tera—married or not. He’s half in love with her. If she gave him the time of day, he’d drop everything to woo her.”
“Woo,” Coach chuckles.
“I’d love to get my hands on the Reaper.”
“Cocky little prick. He’s shady,” Coach announces.
“Who you tellin’? Remember Memphis? No Holds Barred. Fucker brought in those brass knuckles and still couldn’t beat me. Gave me a couple broken ribs, though.”
“You paid him back and then some. Concussion and broken nose. Yeah, I’d say you whipped his ass.”
I grunt, then stop and grab my water. I’m a little dehydrated from the fight. I don’t function well when I’m not topped off.
“Tell me, Knox,” Coach begins, “what’re you doing with Ethan?”
“What do ya mean?”
“No one knows and if you step up a level, they’ll ride you hard if they find out.”
“Like I give a fuck. I can handle anything they throw at me. What’re they gonna do? Call me names like kids in grade school? Try to jump me? They can bring it. Anything they bring at me, I’ve had worse. Much worse,” I admit.
“And what about Ethan?”
I pause. “Ethan can handle it. We’re gonna be attending a movie premiere for Lucy in a few months or so, and we’re going together. We figure if we get ahead of things soon, it’ll all die down by then. We don’t want to make waves for Lucy.”
“I can see that. Just let me know. We can PR spin the fuck out of this, you know. I’m sure Ethan’s got someone to work the PR out for him and the band, too,” Coach relays.
“Yeah,” I say. I guess I didn’t think we’d need PR. But we do. The ramifications of Ethan coming out could be disastrous for Falling Down—hell, they could be the same for me. Am I worried? Yeah, I’m worried. I just don’t want Ethan to worry. I want to hold that weight for him. I can dump it off in the ring while he’d have to continue to carry it until it weighed him down and brought him to his knees. I will not let that happen.
“Finish off with lower body. Ease up on the
ribs. Don’t come in tomorrow. You need to heal, or it’ll end up worse,” Coach dictates.
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ethan’s not too happy about my coming in either, but I needed the space to clear out the residual shit in my head. It’s not easy living with a house full of people,” I admit.
“I can’t even imagine. Lower body and massage. Ice, heat, wrap.”
I nod.
“See you in a couple days.”
“Later, coach.”
Just thinking about what Ethan and I have to face is making me twitchy. I kick the big bag, then spin-kick, mixing it up, working out my frustration and worry. I’m not worried for my sake. I let that shit roll right off my back. I’m worried for Ethan and what ridicule and the pressure of it could mean for Ethan—what it could mean for us.
He’s been fighting so hard in therapy to work his shit out. He’s even started opening up more to me about it. I hate what happened to him. I wish I knew the fucker’s name. I’d hunt him down and snap his fucking neck. He took Ethan’s innocence and turned it into something painful and ugly. And now… I let out a sigh. Now he can’t stand someone to be behind him—just like Tera. If either of them feel a stranger’s breath on their neck, they go into fight-or-flight mode. It’s instantaneous and it’s scary—for them, and for everyone else around them.
Kick. Spin-kick. Kick. Kick. Kick.
He feels dirty. Sometimes after we’re together, he has the water in the shower so hot I worry he’s going to scald his skin off. And the way he washes and washes and washes himself. Jesus.
So, I turn the water to a tolerable temperature and take the body wash and cloth from him. I gently and slowly cleanse him in a healing manner as opposed to the frantic, wounding way he goes about it. He’s blind to anything but the visions in his head, the memories. I, with each touch and soft, loving word, bring him slowly back to the present where he shudders and shakes. I hold him, caress him, soothe him—love him. Eventually he finds his way back to me and hugs me tightly. I dry us off and carry him to bed where he trembles in my arms, climbing so far into my side, he’s half on top of me. Finally, he falls asleep, but I don’t. I stay awake all night, holding him, soothing him, so the nightmares stay at bay.
No one ever spoke about the day he turned up at Dr. Mac’s, bleeding, screaming, and barely able to stand. We were all just there for him however he needed us. And this is how he needs me now.
I would do anything for him. I’d kill for him. I’d die for him. But one thing I won’t do is give up on him or us. He worries I will. It would be like ripping out a part of my soul. He’s a part of me, a part I will never let go. Ever.
No matter how bad things get.
4
ETHAN
“I figure we can get back out on tour after Lucy’s premiere. It’ll add hype to the tour,” Jace says.
Cage nods. “That’s a good idea. Plenty of time to finish up the new album and distribution.”
I’m amped up to get on the road again. It’s not that I don’t like the home life we have going on, it’s just… it’s chaotic. It takes my mind off the bullshit that constantly runs through my head.
Linc and I need to talk to everyone. I’m pretty sure most everyone knows, but we need to be sure and we need to know how they feel about our coming out. I wish Linc had skipped the gym and made it to this meeting in the big gold building that houses Nichols Records.
Kennedy knows. He’s always known. I told him, and we talked about it. He never pushed for more information, and I only gave him what I was comfortable with. I can’t talk about that day with anyone but Linc, Kennedy, and Joan. I just can’t. It’s not that I’m ashamed, because I’m not. Therapy’s taught me it wasn’t my fault. I believe it to be true. I just don’t want everyone to know everything. I don’t want the sympathy or pitying looks some of them gave Tera. I don’t want the attention. I couldn’t stand the attention.
Then there’s Lincoln. I don’t want them to look at him differently either. He’s solid. My rock. Hell, he’s everyone’s rock if I’m being honest. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and empties it when he steps into the ring—with each punch it dissipates. He carries it for those he loves, because he knows he's got broader shoulders, he’s stronger, and he has an outlet. We don't.
He thinks I don’t know he worries, but I do. I know everything about that man. I know he hates Brussels sprouts but swears broccoli is the best vegetable in the world. He hates wheat bread but eats it because it’s healthier for him. I know he can eat an entire chocolate cake in one sitting and not share a single bite. I know he hates the feel rayon against his skin which meant they had to make special shorts for him for the ring. He’s not demanding but has little patience for bullshit. He loves the color yellow but will never wear it because he thinks it’s too girlie. I know he trusts very few people and lets even fewer into his life, but those who are granted entry will be a part of him forever.
The door opens and in walks my guy. I almost stand but don’t. I meet his gaze and he smiles that smile. God, he’s so hot. Those straight white teeth set against his dark Hispanic skin, the green and grey eyes that see right to my soul, and that body—that body is to die for. Completely tatted up and all muscle.
Kennedy moves over a chair and pushes his vacated one out for Linc.
He sits down and smells clean and fresh. His hair wet. He came straight from the gym.
“What’d I miss?” he asks, “and why do I need to be here?”
Jesse leans forward. “We’re talking about touring again, and I wanted to know if it’s going to fuck with your schedule.”
“How far ahead are we talking?” Linc asks.
“After Lucy’s premiere,” Jesse replies.
“I was going to talk to you,” he says looking at me, “all about this, but now’s as good a time as any.”
“What’s up?” Xan asks.
“I was talking to Coach and we’re going to move up a level.”
“That’s fucking awesome, bro,” Xan exclaims. Everyone’s in agreement.
“What does this mean?” I ask.
“Not much, really. I’ll just be fighting guys who are more of a challenge. But that means I don’t know what my schedule will be like. I don’t know how that works yet. I was going to call Jabs—Jamie later.”
Jamie “Jabs” Royal is one of Linc’s best buds. He’s a fighter and he’s been crushing on Tera, Xander’s wife, for as long as he’s known her. He still hasn’t given up—even though she’s married. He’d never interfere, but he’ll wait. I always tell him it’s never gonna happen, but he shrugs and says, “You never know.”
“So, you’re bumping up to his level then?” I question.
He nods. “Yeah, if everything works out which I think it should. But you guys all know there are ways to work around shit schedules.”
“There are,” Cage agrees. “We have time, and we can make any adjustments and special arrangements we have to. I know the BFD tour would like you to be with them as much as possible.
I look at Linc, and he looks at me with the question of the hour in his eyes. I tilt my head slightly nodding my assent.
“There’s something else you all need to know,” Linc begins.
“Go on,” Cage encourages.
“Ethan and I are together. As in a couple,” he announces.
“As in, in love with each other,” Kennedy adds.
“As in gay,” I include.
Jesse’s brows pull together. “And?”
Linc looks at me and I look at him, we look around the table and see no surprise.
“You knew?” I ask.
Jesse rolls his eyes. “Of course we knew. We’re not fucking stupid. You two’ve been together almost as long as Tera and Xan.”
“Oh, wow. I didn’t know it was that long,” Lucy adds, “But really, anyone with two eyes can see it.”
“See it? See that we’re gay?” I ask, feeling a bit insulted.
“No, silly. See that you’
re in love,” Lucy clarifies.
“Seriously, dude,” Xan says shaking his head.
Linc’s brows lift. “Well. That was easy.”
“Is there a reason you were keeping it a secret?” Cage asks.
I shake my head. “No, not really. We just… it’s kind of like Tera and Xan. Different locations.”
“But together,” Linc adds.
I nod.
“I’m assuming, and I hate to assume,” Cage begins, “that you are thinking of making your relationship and sexuality public?”
We both nod.
“Yeah. I talked to Coach today about it,” Linc announces.
“You did?” I ask.
“Yeah, I was going to talk to you about that later, too. Seems like I have to share with everyone before sharing with you.”
He’s a bit frustrated. I can tell by his tone.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, putting my hand over his. “I’ll get the details later.”
Linc nods then turns his hand over and intertwines his fingers with mine.
“That,” Meggie shouts, pointing to our hands. “That, right there, is how we all knew. I don’t think you even realize you’re touching one another, but you always do in front of us. I think it’s romantic and so sweet.”
I blush a little. I hate the attention.
Linc gives me a soft look, rubbing his thumb over my wrist as if to say, “It’s okay. Just relax.”
I nod.
“And that,” Sera adds. “The silent communication.”
“You only noticed that because you and Batman do the same thing,” Xander declares.
She nods. “That’s the truth.”
I look over to Cage and he gives Sera a look, she stares back.
“Dude get a room,” I chide, and everyone laughs, including Cage’s assistant, Marta. Well, Cage’s lip twitches so I consider that a laugh.
