Forty-five days. That’s how long I’ve been walking around in a haze. One thousand and eighty hours since my brother left this world and me to fumble my way through it. I’m barely living right now. I don’t really know how. Sonny was always telling me what to do, and now . . . nothing. My pop isn’t much better. Mav has himself so buried in work he doesn’t have time for anything else. They got the fight postponed. I don’t even know for when. Don’t really give a fuck. The trial was over and done with as well. Those of the bastards that weren’t killed at the lake that day are now behind bars. Better than they fucking deserve.
I come to the gym every day, work myself until I collapse. My shoulder almost completely healed. Most days I don’t even bother to go home. I think a part of me feels Sonny here in the gym. Within the walls or something. Nobody bothers me here; they don’t know what to say. I’m glad they don’t try. Frankie is worried about me. Fair, since I worry about her too. Every time I see her, she’s crying. I’m not sure if she even realizes it anymore. It kills me to see her like that. I know me staying here at the gym hurts her, that she doesn’t understand it. I just can’t find it in me to explain it to her right now.
How do you explain? I’ve been to war. Lost brothers. I've held them while the life seeped out of them in a country a world away from home. I've watched them be blown into the atmosphere by cowards not willing to even look you in the eye when they take your life. But never my own flesh and blood. Never my brother. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I left the battlefield behind me; my war, my fight, a totally different beast now. Death wasn't supposed to invade my soul here. It wasn't supposed to take from me what it wanted with bullets and violence. Leaving me with gaping holes, soulless. Anger and anguish a constant companion instead of my beautiful girl.
The sound of the door catches my attention.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, confused.
“I called him,” Frankie says, moving out from behind Leo.
Widening my stance, I look to them for some kind of explanation. Frankie walks into the weight room, closing the door behind her. “I called him, Deacon.”
“Yeah, you said that. Why?” Eyes narrowed, I watch her cross her arms over her chest, Leo leaning back against the closed door, content on letting us have this out.
“Do you blame me for what happened?” she asks in a controlled voice.
“No, of course not. I’ve told you that,” I say, agitated. We’ve had this discussion more than once, and I’m over it. Tired of telling her that it wasn’t her fault. It simply wasn’t.
“Then why don’t you come home?” The hurt in her voice cuts right through me.
I glance at her then away.
“Leo, did you know that we’re having twins?” she asks with a hint of sadness and wonder.
Whipping my head to look at her, I ask in astonishment, “What? We are? Why didn’t you tell me? What the fuck, Frankie?” How the fuck could she keep something like this from me.
“I tried calling you. When I was in the hospital, Dr. Dean came to check on me and said they were picking up two heartbeats. He scheduled an ultrasound. You missed it. Indie took me.” Her voice catches. “You didn’t come home that night. I drove here to tell you, but you were sleeping.” She shrugs her shoulders. “You haven’t been home since, not in weeks really, figured you didn’t care.” There are tears glistening in her eyes. I shoot a look at Leo who is still against the door, head down. I still don’t get why she called him.
“Of course I care, Frankie. You’re all I’ve got left,” I say to her softly. “I just—I just . . . fuck.” Thrusting my fingers through my hair, I yank until I can feel the burn in my scalp.
“It should’ve been me, Frankie. He was a good man, honorable, fucking perfect, the bastard.” I laugh, full of regret, squeezing my eyes shut. “Should’ve been me,” I choke out.
I’m not sure when she moves, but when I open my eyes, she’s standing in front of me. Her blues travel over my face slowly before they settle on mine. Black eyelashes spiky from her tears, she reaches up and trails her fingers down my face. “Sonny didn’t deserve to die Deacon, but neither did you. You, you’re a good man. The best man I’ve ever known. I don’t ever want to hear you say that it should’ve been you again,” she states firmly. “It shouldn’t have been any of us.” Flicking a tear from her cheek she continues, “I miss him too, Deac, every day. I also miss you. I feel like I’ve lost you both.” Her voice is thick with emotion and it breaks me.
I give no thought to looking like a pussy in front of Leo. With tears streaming down my face, I scoop up my girl and bury my face in her coconut-scented hair. Immediately I feel a weight lifted. Not completely, but enough to let me breathe for the first time in over a month. This right here is all I have left—I can’t forget that. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t realize,” I say into her neck.
“I know, Deac.”
I pull back, a small smile all I can muster even though I’m happier than I’ve been in longer than I can remember. “Twins?” I ask in awe.
Frankie nods, smiling sadly at me. “Yes. Dr. Dean says that sometimes one hides behind the other or their heartbeats are so in synch you can’t tell that there are two.” She fingers the chain at my throat. “I didn’t know if you wanted to know the sex so I told them not to tell me.”
“Baby, I’m sorry I missed it. Did they give you those picture things?”
We’re interrupted when Leo clears his throat. He raises his hand in apology. “Sorry. I know you’re having a moment. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says sheepishly. “But I practically had to suck my Commander’s dick to extend my leave. We need to get to work.”
Glancing between the two, I ask, “What do you mean ‘get to work’?”
Leo sighs dramatically. “Your fight is in less than three weeks. You look like hell. You probably won’t even make weight right now,” he tells me shaking his head.
“I’ve been hitting it hard, dude. I’m in fucking fantastic shape. I’ve never not made weight,” I spit out.
“Hitman, you’ve lost weight. You need to bulk up. You’re not taking care of yourself, bro. Just being here in the gym going through the motions isn’t cutting it,” Leo chides. “If you’re gonna be ready, we gotta get you on track.”
I don’t want to listen to his shit. I don’t even want him here. I know that’s hateful as fuck since he’s my friend, and Frankie obviously called him, but Sonny is my trainer. “Tomorrow. I just want to go home with my girl right now. That’s the track I need to get on.” Wanting to change the subject, “You staying at our place?”
“Not tonight. I’ll probably stay here tonight.”
“Call me if you change your mind, Yoda,” I say as I take Frankie’s hand and lead her to the door.
She stops as we pass him and places a hand to his arm. “Thank you for coming, Leo. I appreciate it.”
He bends and gives her a peck on the cheek. “Any time, sugar.”
Leo holds a hand out for me to shake. “Tomorrow, Hitman. You and me,” he says pumping my arm.
“Talk to you then, Yoda. It’s good to see you,” I lie. It’s not good to see him. I now know why he’s here and I’m gonna have to break it to him that it’s not gonna happen.
Late that night, lying in bed with Frankie curled into my side, my mind is racing. My thoughts all over the place. I sigh deeply. “You asleep?”
“No, I’m up, Deac,” she says as she begins to softly trace her name inked into my skin. She does it when she’s lost in thought.
“Why did you call Leo, Frankie?” Pretty sure I’ve figured it out.
Her hand stills for a second and then resumes its path. “I’m scared for you. Usually I’m the one who is able to pull you out of whatever you’re dealing with, just like you’re it for me. Nothing I’m doing is working though. I couldn’t even get you to come home.” Frankie’s voice is pitched low, but I hear all she’s not saying. It’s always been either her or Sonny able to keep my shit straight. I run hot a lot of the time, always have, and Frankie has been my anchor since forever. If it wasn’t her, it was Sonny. “I couldn’t watch you slip away any further than you already had. I called Leo a couple of weeks ago. He said he was about to go on leave and that he’d be here the first chance he could.”
“What’s he gonna do for me that you couldn’t, Princess?” She sits up, so I stack my hands under my head.
“Train you. Help you find some purpose. Make sure you don’t step in that Cage with Rude Awakening unprepared and get hurt,” Frankie says in a matter of fact tone. “I see you, Deac. I know you and I see you. You’re hurting so bad and you won’t let me in.” Her voice hitches. “You’re a hair trigger right now. I keep waiting for you to go off. It won’t be long before you do. I’m afraid for you. For us.” She reaches out and runs her fingertips lightly over my lips. “I need you. We need you.”
Taking my hands from behind my head, she places them on her round belly, lacing our fingers. “We need you, Deac. I love you, let me in. Let me try to help you,” Frankie says to me gently. With tears in her eyes, she takes my face in her hands. “I can’t bring him back. God, I fucking would if I could. But we have to try to learn to live without him. Not forget him, we never could, but he would want us to live. You’re not living, baby.” Leaning forward she places a kiss to my lips, her own salty from the tears trailing down her cheeks and over our fused mouths.
I tangle my fingers in her hair, cradling her head and pressing her tighter to me. I’ve needed her. Maybe I was afraid to let her help me through this because that would mean forgetting my brother. She’s right though. We don’t have to forget him—we just have to live. Living’s not forgetting.
I pull back and let my eyes roam over her face, every beauty mark, and smile line. With the pad of my thumb, I rub away the moisture our kiss left on her bottom lip. “Okay,” I vow, releasing my hold on the silky strands of her hair and tucking it behind her ears.
She watches as I throw my legs over the side of the bed. I can’t have her hands on me if I’m going to get through this next part. “I’m going to grab a drink. Do you want something?” I ask, placing a kiss to her wrist.
“No, I’m fine, thanks.”
“Be right back, baby.”
I go into my office to the bar and pull out a tumbler, filling it with Scotch. I need a moment to get my thoughts together. Glass in hand, I walk back into our room, over to the window. Sipping slowly, I welcome the burn of the liquid. “Would you still love me if I gave up fighting?” Frankie is bewildered by my question, I can see it on her face reflected in the window pane. It’s something that I’ve thought about a lot lately though and I need to see where she stands.
“I don’t love you because you fight for a living, Deacon. I love you because you’re a fighter,” she says calmly like I’m supposed to know what the fuck she means.
My brows drawn in confusion, I turn so that I’m facing her and lean against the sill. Ankles crossed, I watch her over the rim of my glass as I sip. Assessing her words and trying to decipher them. “Isn’t that the same fucking thing?”
“Not at all.” After a few seconds of watching me and expecting me to pick up on her damn riddle, she stands and places her hands where her hips should be. “Where is this coming from, Deacon? Why now? Fighting inside that Cage is all you ever wanted. You’ve been training since you were just a little damn kid. Why now?”
“He was my team. My coach, my brother. He was wrapped up in all of it. I don’t know how to do any of it without Sonny,” I admit, throwing back the rest of my drink. Saying it out loud makes me feel weak, like a quitter. But I feel hollow. I have this huge void and fighting isn’t filling it right now. “I don’t know if I want to.”
Watching me closely, she says, “You asked me if I would love you if you gave up fighting. Well, you can’t give up fighting because it’s who you are. You’re full of passion and heat, determination and honor, and that’s what makes you a fighter. You’re fighting whether you’re in that Cage or out. It’s what I love about you most. You fight for everything you believe in. You never stop fighting.” Smiling sadly she continues, “So, yes I’d still love you if you never fought on a stage again. If you never stepped foot in the Octagon. But you’ll never not be a fighter. And I’ll never not love you.” Still smiling she adds, “You’re kinda stuck with me, Love.”
“No one else I’d rather be stuck with, Princess,” I say honestly. Maybe, just maybe, with her in my corner I can do this. My girl will help me. No more trying to do it on my own. She’s my team too.