by Royal Blue
Can I offer that?
I don’t know if I can, but I damn sure want to try. As this big, strong man sobs in my hold, I know I need to try. It doesn’t have to be a relationship, but a friendship.
Yes, I can offer a friendship.
Angel
“It’s okay, baby.” His words coax me closer to reality.
Panic sets in as I look around. My brother looks pale and worried. There’s that dark-haired chick again, standing with wide gray eyes bouncing between me and Andres. I can’t help but wonder what I’ve done. None of my eleven students are in the room.
Dios. Did I hurt one of them?
I’ve grown fond and protective over all of my students. From the teenaged girls to the single women and soccer moms who come in to learn or just get away from home for a bit. They’ve all shared their stories with me and have given me their trust.
I’ll never forgive myself for harming one of them. Will he fire me?
I can’t lose my job. Beau allows me to stay here because I work for my keep. I want to work for my keep, but I just fucked that up. I don’t even know what triggered me. One minute I was teaching a simple self-defense move. The next, I was in the middle of a war zone.
Beau’s voice calling me back to the present for the second time in less than twenty-four hours shook something in me. I’ve been avoiding him all day. I’m still so embarrassed about last night. Now this. He’s going to let me go. Dios mío, if he tells Javier about this, I’ll lose that job too.
“Everything is fucked-up,” I sob. “I need to just end this shit. I shouldn’t be alive anyway.”
“The hell.” Beau cups my face. “Bullshit. You’re stronger than that. That’s not the answer. We’ll figure this out. You can make it through this.”
Those eyes. Such sincerity in his words. I try to tug away and shift my gaze from his.
“Look at me, baby,” he says gently. “We’re taking the rest of the day off. I have a friend I want you to get to know. After, we’ll get something to eat, or we can come back here when the gym closes and blow off some steam. Whatever you need.”
Looking into those eyes, want to tell him that I need him. His calm, his presence. When I’m around him I feel the most safe and secure I’ve felt in so long. Instead, I nod and vow to push through.
He’s right. I’m a fighter. I want to fight this.
“Okay,” I say simply.
I’m still visibly shaken. My hands are trembling. Beau pulls me into a hug that’s so tight, I can’t help but absorb the support he’s giving me. Melting into his embrace, I close my eyes and hold on to him like a lifeline.
“I’m here.”
I nod my head at his words, not sure for how long they’ll be valid. Still, I appreciate them in this moment.
I need to fight this.
Beau
I haven’t taken my eyes off that door since Angel followed Eric into his office. I’ve been rooted to this waiting room. If anyone can help Angel, it’s Eric. I’m so grateful to him for fitting Angel in.
I’ll never forget the first time Darwin ushered me into this very same office. Eric was able to help me before I completely lost it after Roman’s death. I wince as I think of my own festering wounds.
Eric’s a great therapist. He got me through the first three years. He’s been trying to get me to start back with my sessions, but I haven’t been able to force myself to that point yet. However, I just knew it was the right thing for Angel.
I bounce my leg as I rest my elbows on my thighs and cover my mouth with my cupped hands. They’ve been in there longer than an hour. Yet I’ve committed myself to sitting here as long as I have to.
The look on Angel’s face, his haunting words. I couldn’t move if I wanted to. If I’m honest, I can’t stop thinking about how it felt to have him accept my touch and help. All things I shouldn’t want but can’t resist craving.
“Mr. Dalton, can I offer you another bottle of water?” Eric’s office assistant breaks into my thoughts.
“Yes, please.” I nod.
The door to Eric’s office opens just then. Angel comes through first, looking a bit better than when we arrived. He was still shaken up on the ride here.
“I’d like to see you again this week, if you’re comfortable with that,” Eric says.
Angel clears his throat. “All right.”
“You can make an appointment before you go.” Eric looks at me with a grin. “You planning on making one as well, Beau?”
He already knows the answer to that question. “Not this time,” I mutter.
My main focus is on Angel. I tug him into a hug just as I did back at the gym to settle him down enough to come here. He receives the embrace, returning it tightly. No words are needed. Just like earlier. It’s a part of this connection I’m still trying to deny.
When we pull apart, Angel looks at me with a small smile. “Didn’t you say something about food?”
“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you need,” I reply. “I know this great outdoor bar and grill uptown.”
“Thanks, Beau.”
I give a tight nod, my throat raw with emotions. It’s clear that this has been a lot on him from the look in his eyes and the set of his shoulders. I’m just glad I could be here for him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, I give a reassuring squeeze. Again, words are unnecessary. The appreciation in his gaze speaks volumes.
Chapter 9
In the Ring
Beau
Everyone’s excited that the Golden Gloves Tournaments are coming up. I have four fighters entering. We’ve been preparing for months. My own anticipation has been building. I remember the days when I was the one getting ready to jump in the ring and pound my way to the top.
I wanted to make a name for myself then. Now I just feel like something is missing. Coaching isn’t enough. Although I’d never say that out loud to Kyle and Emma. They both would be relentless.
Neither of them can understand that I just don’t belong in the ring. Not as a fighter. Not after what I’ve done. Wanting something and deserving it are two different things.
“Why do I always get the feeling you want to be in there?” Angel says as he walks up and hands me a bottle of water.
“Keep those hands up, Ricky,” I call into the ring.
I glance at Angel quickly, taking the water from his hand. I want to avoid his question, but his eyes burn into the side of my face. He’s not going to let this go. Something I’ve learned about him in the last few days.
Once he decides on something, he can be darn right stubborn. I say that’s a gift and a curse. At the moment, I lean more toward the latter.
“Come on. I’ve heard about you. Those hands are lethal,” he teases.
I wince. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it. I can hear it in his tone. I guess whoever has been telling him about me either doesn’t know about my past or just didn’t tell him. Either way, his choice of words slices into me.
“Yeah, more than you know,” I say tightly.
“So why aren’t you boxing? You’re in shape. You’re still young. I can see in your eyes you want it. What’s stopping you?”
“You already answered your own question,” I snap.
“Hey.” He touches my forearm. “Did I say something wrong? I… I’m sorry.”
I sigh and shake my head. I don’t mean to be short with him. He just picked a very sore topic.
“It’s not something I want to get into here. I’ll tell you some other time,” I reply with less venom in my voice.
“Okay.” He nods. “Your fighters look good. Ricky could use some work on that jab, though.”
I turn to look directly at Angel. I study him more closely as he watches the fighters in the ring. Before I can dig, Andres calls for him from across the gym. Angel slaps my shoulder twice.
“See you later,” he says.
I reach for his wrist to stop him. Angel looks better than a few days ago. I think taking him to see Eric was the right thing to do.
>
“You working tonight?”
“No, I have the next two nights off,” he replies.
“Have a few beers with me after work. I’ll tell you about—” I nod toward the ring, not able to say the words and not really sure why I’m making this offer.
“Yeah, I’m with it.” He nods with a small smile.
I return the smile and release him. Turning back to the ring, I probe my thoughts to understand why I’m planning to open up to Angel. I already told myself we can’t be more than friends.
I can tell a friend about my past.
I can, but I get the feeling that I may just crack the vault and allow my secrets to slip through as well. My shoulders sag, and I dig my fingers into the canvas beneath my palms. Nothing but hurt will come of this road I’m trotting down. I’d have better luck racing a dead horse in the Kentucky Derby.
“Get those hands up, Ricky. Watch your feet. He’s leading you. Take the fight back,” I call out.
Take the fight back.
Those words echo in my ears and resonate deep within. I lost my fight. I used to be known to come back, but this time I just haven’t found the will.
Angel and Andres’s twin laughter floats to my side of the gym. Again, I note that Angel looks better. He’s fighting. A few days ago, he declared he wanted to take his own life. Now, he’s smiling and fighting to stay here in the land of the living.
“Enough,” I bark out.
The fighters in the ring stop, but I’m not so sure I was talking to them. Pushing off the ring, I end the session and retreat to my office. I have some things to think about before tonight.
Angel
When Beau asked me to join him for beers, I thought we would go to a bar. I was prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for was his place. After the way things ended the last time I was here, I feel a little awkward returning.
I will admit it’s a bit different this time. I’m getting to see the place with the lights fully on. Beau has a great place. It’s the kind of place I wish I could afford. The loft’s open floor plan and views of the city are all the things on my checklist for the perfect place. The wraparound balcony and rooftop deck with a pool are just bonuses I know I’ll never be able to afford.
“The steaks will be ready in a few,” Beau says as he closes the lid on the grill.
We’ve been on the rooftop, taking in the gorgeous view of the city. I was blown away when we walked up the iron stairs to the second-floor split-level and continued to another set of stairs that led us up here. The crisp night air is exactly what I needed to calm my nerves a bit as I sit here on a barstool and enjoy the company.
“This place is great,” I say and sip my beer.
“Yeah, I bought it right before I retired.” He takes the seat next to me.
“Why’d you retire so early?”
He looks out over the city, his face tight. This question is the reason I’m here. I know this to be a touchy subject, but I feel like knowing the answer will help me to know Beau. I want to know him. After the way he handled me and helped me out the other day, I want more than what we promised each other that night.
I think Beau and I could have a real connection. I haven’t felt connected to anyone in so long. I need to see if I can make this work. I get that he’s as reluctant as I am to enter a relationship. I just need to know why.
“I was in a serious relationship six years ago. I loved Roman as much as I loved to box. He was there when I started to figure my shit out. When I decided to go pro, he was in my corner, cheering me on.
“My career was in a different place than his. Ro needed to work on his skills. But he was arrogant. It was one of the things I loved about him. That cocksure attitude….” He takes a pull from his beer.
He makes a face as if it tastes bitter to him. I go to tell him he doesn’t have to tell me anymore. It’s clear that this is bringing him pain. That’s the last thing I want for him, but he continues.
“Roman was all about the flash when it came to the ring. He… I was sure he would block the blow. He was skilled enough to block it. Instead he was showing off. I put more power behind it than I meant to.
“I mean… I just wanted to stun him when the hit met his block,” he says, his voice choking up. “Hit his guard hard enough to make him stop fooling around. I was always so fucking serious in the ring. I hated that he clowned around, but I….
“Things ended badly, and I retired,” he says in a way that shuts the subject down.
The pain rolling off him causes me to swallow, it’s so heavy. I know what it’s like to wear my pain, to feel trapped in my past. He may not have finished just now, but I don’t think Beau and I are that different.
He needs to be free just as much as I do. Suddenly, it’s like I need to speak up for us both. An offering to lead us both from our pain.
“I have days when I want to run from this shit.” I tap my forehead. “I just want an escape. I’ve thought about taking my own life more times than I can count. Two of my buddies have since I’ve been home. They got out before me and never figured shit out.
“Hardcore Marines that just couldn’t deal with the fucked-up shit in their heads. I try to remember them on days when it’s all too much. Not just them, but their families. You know why?”
“Why?” he whispers.
“Because I may free myself, but I have a huge family that would be left hurting. We Hernández are fighters. Andres is a fighter. Being a twin, you feel your other half. I fight daily because I don’t think I could sleep in peace knowing I ripped my twin apart, knowing I snatched some of the fight from my family.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Beau says while staring down at his feet.
“Because I think you and I are a lot alike. You just stopped fighting.”
He whips his head up and stares at me as if he’s in awe. A ton of emotions cover his face, sorrow being one of the most prevalent.
“I don’t want to live the rest of my life like this. For me, I have to believe that I have a choice to get better. I want to get better. I want to fight this. You have a choice too. Fight your demons or let them eat you alive,” I say, not sure where any of this is coming from.
I just know we both need to hear this. I see the way Beau looks at that boxing ring. His muscles coil every time as if he’s ready to get in there and release whatever’s holding him back.
“Shit,” Beau mutters, turning for the forgotten steaks.
“I love Cajun.” I let out a laugh as he lifts the lid to the grill, releasing a billow of smoke.
“Yeah, I hope so.” He snorts, shaking his head.
Chapter 10
Night Terrors
Beau
“Those steaks were terrible,” I groan, propped up against the headboard of my bed.
“Man, I ate that steak and the Chinese food you ordered. I’m not complaining,” Angel says with amusement in his voice as he sits on the other side of me in the same position.
We’re in my bed, but there’s nothing sexual about it. We stopped here instead of going down to the lower level. Our bellies are full from our attempt at eating the steaks and polishing off some takeout from my favorite place.
“You’re welcome to stay the night. You had more than a few,” I offer.
“I’m a big boy. I can handle the train ride.”
Angel smiles, stretching out his long legs. I follow the action with my eyes. My hands beg to reach out and touch him, but I refrain.
“Yeah, but I’m not ready for you to go, and it’s getting late. Stay, if you’re comfortable enough to.”
“I guess since I already kicked my shoes off and you have me in your bed, I could chill for the night.”
My gaze flickers over his face. He’s so damn gorgeous. Those dimples popping as he smiles. I want to lean over and kiss him, but I hold back.
Friends, I’m just trying to be a friend.
“I’m plum tuckered out.” I sigh.
Angel bursts into laughter
. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine. What are you trying to say?” I ask, humor lacing my own voice.
“Nothing. When did you move here to New York?”
“When I was sixteen,” I reply, remembering that time. “Not long before my seventeenth birthday.”
“Man, that explains that country-ass accent.” He laughs.
“You have something against my accent?”
“Nah, I like it,” he says and winks. “Emma, that’s your sister’s name, right?”
“Yeah.” I nod.
“She doesn’t have as much of a drawl as you do. Man, my entire family sounds like me. Our Spanglish, the New York accents… it carries over four generations, B,” he says with fondness.
“I like listening to you talk like this. You’re different at the gym and the club.”
“It be like that sometimes. You know, you talk one way to be professional and shit. Then when you’re with fam or laid-back, chilling with friends, you can relax all that. I mean, you do it too. You just don’t see it the same,” he says.
“How do you figure?”
“Dude, I’ve heard you get real country when you’re frustrated or talking to your sister. Other times, you dial it down. Same thing.”
“I guess. Never thought of it that way,” I say.
Now that he mentions it, Kyle does the same thing all the time. Most of my friends do. Sometimes Javier forgets we don’t speak Spanish and will have an entire conversation before he catches himself. The more comfortable he gets, the more Spanish he uses in between his English.
“I don’t think about it. It’s not even a conscious thing anymore. If you didn’t point it out, I probably wouldn’t have noticed,” he says.
“I like that you’re comfortable with me. That I’m a friend you can chill with.”
