Chapter Forty-Eight
Shane
This day had dragged ass, the hours taking weeks, the seconds minutes. Then suddenly time sped up and here I was in the locker room, getting ready for a fight I’d been ready for until I’d arrived. My stomach rejected food despite being able to finally eat again without worrying about making weight, my nerves went to town ripping apart my gut, and the hollow spot where my heart used to be ached worse than usual.
I’d been through the doctor check-in, my clothes had been examined, and I’d received my four-ounce gloves. The commissioner had gone over the rules we’d all heard a hundred times, Finn taped up my hands, and now it was a waiting game.
My coaches paced around like caged tigers ready to pounce, which didn’t help my nerves. Liam’s phone chimed. He glanced at it. Then looked right at me. Then turned around like he needed to hide whatever message had come through.
Immediately my thoughts went to Brooklyn. Was she okay? Was she ready for her big showing?
Knock ’em dead, baby.
Blake Roth walked into the locker room, and I lowered my eyebrows, anger slowly simmering. I’d overheard Liam telling him about Brooklyn’s art show, and I assumed that meant Blake wouldn’t be here for my fight. I didn’t want him to be here. Brooklyn needed him there—she’d told me she’d never felt so alone last time, and I didn’t want her to have to experience that again.
“Mr. Roth,” I said, pushing to my feet because I was stupid and couldn’t leave things alone. He turned to me and opened his mouth, presumably to ask the question everyone asked. Are you ready? Well, he probably wasn’t ready for what I was going to say. “No disrespect, sir, but you’ve made your apologies to Brooklyn and promised to be better at supporting her, and this is the first opportunity for you to prove to her that you mean it, and you’re choosing wrong. Liam and Finn have the coaching thing covered, and her art show is literally an hour away, for fuck’s sake. You should be at her show, not here with me.”
Jaws dropped, silence descended. I might break a record as the first fighter to have his ass kicked by his coach pre-fight.
I’d already dived, head first, so no reason to stop now. I paced toward him, my irritation acting as a catalyst to the nervous energy already churning through me. “You’re going to lose her for good this time, no matter how many phone calls you make, or how much guilt you throw at her. Take it from someone who lost her, it’s not something you want to have to deal with for the rest of your life.”
I let that hang in the air for a moment, and I told myself to leave it at that, but my temper got the best of me. “You know what, actually strike the ‘no disrespect.’ I don’t give a shit how you take it. Someone needed to say it.”
Liam placed a hand on Blake’s chest as he advanced, holding him back. “Do you want to hit him, or keep Brooklyn? You’re going to have to choose, because you can’t do both.”
Hell, I knew what I’d choose if I had to do it again. For the first time in my life, I wanted something as much as I wanted a belt. Maybe more.
Blake stormed out of the locker room and then the heavy silence and anxiety-smothered air returned. Liam slowly approached me, and I braced for a lecture about focus and how shit mine was. As if I didn’t already know.
“I got a text from Brooklyn a few minutes ago,” he said.
“I figured. Is she okay?”
He nodded. “She told me that she’d let me gauge your mood and decide whether to show this to you before or after the fight. I wasn’t sure, but after what you just told my dad… Here.” He thrust the phone at me and I reached for it, but my gloves were bulky, so he had to hold it up for me. Not weird or anything. I skimmed past the part addressed to Liam until I reached my name.
Brooklyn: Shane. I have so much I want to say, but I’ll try to keep it short and sweet—even though you’ve accused me of being anything but sweet.
That aching spot in the middle of my chest thumped once, regret and affection making a strong cocktail.
Brooklyn: I’d wish you luck, but you don’t need it. You’re going to wipe the floor with Conrad, and I wish I was going to be there to see it. But I want you to know that with or without the title, you’re enough. You’re so much more than a fierce fighter. Don’t get me wrong, your ego is huge, and you’re still the cockiest, most frustrating person I’ve ever met. But you’re also funny and tenacious, with a heart of gold, and you always made me feel stronger and braver, so I’m hoping to do the same for you. Even though I know you’re probably rolling your eyes and insisting you don’t need it.
Xoxo,
Bruiser
My heart thundered in my chest. Not even close to rolling my eyes, babe. I need it. I need you.
“I hope I didn’t make a mistake showing it to you,” Liam said.
My adrenaline surged, the rest of the world going fuzzy around the edges. She believed in me, even after everything. “Not a mistake. Not for me, anyway. Conrad probably isn’t going to enjoy the results, though.”