Worth the Fight
Page 33
I’m stopped outside the door listening, basically eavesdropping when I remember the boys are hearing it all too. “You two.” I rummage in my purse and pull out a twenty-dollar bill. “Go back up and buy some pretzels and watch the next fight. Come back when it’s over.” Max starts to respond and complain and I hit him with the big sister death stare and point a finger back in the direction we just came from. “Now.”
Vinny nudges my stepbrother, “Come on man,” and the two begrudgingly turn to leave. Vinny’s a smart kid, he quickly knows which battles to fight and which he will never win. He’ll do okay in life.
Now that I’ve sent the boys away, I’m not sure what to do. Preach is still yelling and I haven’t heard Nico say one word yet. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t interrupt, but another part of me has the urge to go in and protect Nico. I knew something was off, but he won damn it, he doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. The lioness in me wins out and I knock on the door once and then enter the room without waiting for a response.
Nico is sitting on a bench with his head in his hands looking down. His posture reminds me of a child that’s getting scolded. It’s defeated and disappointed. He doesn’t look up when I enter, but Preach quiets momentarily and turns to me.
“Maybe you can talk some sense into his thick skull.” Preach throws the towel he was holding on the floor and stalks out of the room, slamming the door as the exclamation point to end his final departing rant.
I wait a few seconds, long seconds where I actually hear the clock on the wall ticking behind me, but Nico still doesn’t acknowledge me. He hasn’t moved. So I take a deep breath and walk to him, stopping in front of the bench where he sits. I slowly reach down and put my hands on his shoulders. I’m unsure of what to say, but I want to comfort him somehow.
Gently, I glide my fingers back and forth over his warm skin in what I hope is a soothing motion. His shoulders untense slightly at my touch. “Are you okay?” My words are barely above a whisper.
Nico shakes his head. No.
“Are you physically hurt? Can I get you anything?”
Again, only a headshake no in response.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Yet another shake of the head.
I stand there for a few more minutes, quietly, my hands on his shoulders and him with his head still bowed. It’s the longest I’ve been near him without him touching me. He’s right in front of me, but he’s light years away. I want to help him so badly, need to make him feel better. But he still hasn’t looked at me or spoken. I kneel down in front of him and fold my hands around his clasped ones and look up at his face. I’m so close, he can’t avoid me anymore. He tilts his head up slightly and his eyes lift to mine. What I find looking back at me breaks my heart into a million little pieces. My normally strong, confident man’s eyes are filled with unshed tears and he looks…broken. Scared. Sad. His face is filled with anguish as he looks at me. He still doesn’t speak, but his eyes say it all.
I hear voices from the door and then there’s a knock before Vinny and Max enter the room. I turn away for a split second to look at the boys and when I turn back to Nico the emotion on his face is gone. Replaced by a stony façade that I’ve never seen before.
“Get the boys out of here.” A stern voice I don’t expect to hear commands, taking me by surprise. It’s cold and distant and it startles me to hear such a tone in Nico’s voice. So much so that I look up at his face with my brow furrowed, confused, as if the words he just spoke were foreign. But if his intentions weren’t clear the first time he speaks, there’s no mistaking them the second. “Go home, Elle.”
***
It takes me hours to fall asleep and when I finally do, I toss and turn all night restlessly. I can’t get the look on Nico’s face, when I kneeled before him, out of my head. It’s one I’m all too familiar with. Sorrow. Shame. Self-loathing. That moment comes back to haunt you when you least expect it. Just when you think you’ve finally found a way to bury it somewhere deep inside yourself, it rears its ugly head and then you’re back to square one. Back to relive the pain. The regret. The guilt. And the healing has to start all over again.
Chapter 33
Nico
I don’t even notice my knuckles bleeding until Preach’s loud voice pulls my attention from the bag. It’s five a.m. and I’ve been at it for hours already. No matter how hard I go at it, I can’t wear myself out enough to close my eyes and not see his face. The face that will haunt me for the rest of my remaining days.
“You been at it all night?” It’s the first time Preach has spoken to me since the fight. He’s yelled and ripped into me, but nothing he’s said has required a response until now.
“Some.”
“You’re getting blood all over the bag. Go ice ‘em.” He doesn’t give a shit about the bag, it’s Preach’s way to tell me to ease up.
I look down at my hands and see the mess I’ve made for the first time, even though they were always in my line of sight. There’s cuts and blood covering my knuckles and most of my fingers. A few are swollen to twice their size and I’m pretty sure they’re broken. But I don’t feel any pain. I want to, but I’m numb.
I head to the gym’s small kitchen in the corner and wrap my knuckles in ice. I don’t bother cleaning the blood off my stained hands. Preach follows and offers me a bottle of water and three pills.
“Take em.”
I know what they are without asking. A heavy duty sleeping pill and two pain killers. My cocktail of choice for almost three months after my last fight. Preach threw them all out one night, at least I thought he did, when I got myself to the point of self pity that I could no longer function without a handful. I was popping them like a kid with a bag full of M&Ms. When he took them away, it cost me almost ten grand. Ten grand worth of repairs when I ripped my own gym apart in anger because the damn doctor wouldn’t write me a new script to replace what Preach took. I’m surprised he’s even offering them to me now.
Preach pushes his hand cupping the pills further in my direction. “God damn it Nico, take the f**king things. You need to sleep, your body needs to rest and that stupid ass head of yours isn’t going to shut down long enough to let it. You take em like they’re supposed to be taken, a day or two to heal, not like f**king candy.”
Vinny nudges my stepbrother, “Come on man,” and the two begrudgingly turn to leave. Vinny’s a smart kid, he quickly knows which battles to fight and which he will never win. He’ll do okay in life.
Now that I’ve sent the boys away, I’m not sure what to do. Preach is still yelling and I haven’t heard Nico say one word yet. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t interrupt, but another part of me has the urge to go in and protect Nico. I knew something was off, but he won damn it, he doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. The lioness in me wins out and I knock on the door once and then enter the room without waiting for a response.
Nico is sitting on a bench with his head in his hands looking down. His posture reminds me of a child that’s getting scolded. It’s defeated and disappointed. He doesn’t look up when I enter, but Preach quiets momentarily and turns to me.
“Maybe you can talk some sense into his thick skull.” Preach throws the towel he was holding on the floor and stalks out of the room, slamming the door as the exclamation point to end his final departing rant.
I wait a few seconds, long seconds where I actually hear the clock on the wall ticking behind me, but Nico still doesn’t acknowledge me. He hasn’t moved. So I take a deep breath and walk to him, stopping in front of the bench where he sits. I slowly reach down and put my hands on his shoulders. I’m unsure of what to say, but I want to comfort him somehow.
Gently, I glide my fingers back and forth over his warm skin in what I hope is a soothing motion. His shoulders untense slightly at my touch. “Are you okay?” My words are barely above a whisper.
Nico shakes his head. No.
“Are you physically hurt? Can I get you anything?”
Again, only a headshake no in response.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Yet another shake of the head.
I stand there for a few more minutes, quietly, my hands on his shoulders and him with his head still bowed. It’s the longest I’ve been near him without him touching me. He’s right in front of me, but he’s light years away. I want to help him so badly, need to make him feel better. But he still hasn’t looked at me or spoken. I kneel down in front of him and fold my hands around his clasped ones and look up at his face. I’m so close, he can’t avoid me anymore. He tilts his head up slightly and his eyes lift to mine. What I find looking back at me breaks my heart into a million little pieces. My normally strong, confident man’s eyes are filled with unshed tears and he looks…broken. Scared. Sad. His face is filled with anguish as he looks at me. He still doesn’t speak, but his eyes say it all.
I hear voices from the door and then there’s a knock before Vinny and Max enter the room. I turn away for a split second to look at the boys and when I turn back to Nico the emotion on his face is gone. Replaced by a stony façade that I’ve never seen before.
“Get the boys out of here.” A stern voice I don’t expect to hear commands, taking me by surprise. It’s cold and distant and it startles me to hear such a tone in Nico’s voice. So much so that I look up at his face with my brow furrowed, confused, as if the words he just spoke were foreign. But if his intentions weren’t clear the first time he speaks, there’s no mistaking them the second. “Go home, Elle.”
***
It takes me hours to fall asleep and when I finally do, I toss and turn all night restlessly. I can’t get the look on Nico’s face, when I kneeled before him, out of my head. It’s one I’m all too familiar with. Sorrow. Shame. Self-loathing. That moment comes back to haunt you when you least expect it. Just when you think you’ve finally found a way to bury it somewhere deep inside yourself, it rears its ugly head and then you’re back to square one. Back to relive the pain. The regret. The guilt. And the healing has to start all over again.
Chapter 33
Nico
I don’t even notice my knuckles bleeding until Preach’s loud voice pulls my attention from the bag. It’s five a.m. and I’ve been at it for hours already. No matter how hard I go at it, I can’t wear myself out enough to close my eyes and not see his face. The face that will haunt me for the rest of my remaining days.
“You been at it all night?” It’s the first time Preach has spoken to me since the fight. He’s yelled and ripped into me, but nothing he’s said has required a response until now.
“Some.”
“You’re getting blood all over the bag. Go ice ‘em.” He doesn’t give a shit about the bag, it’s Preach’s way to tell me to ease up.
I look down at my hands and see the mess I’ve made for the first time, even though they were always in my line of sight. There’s cuts and blood covering my knuckles and most of my fingers. A few are swollen to twice their size and I’m pretty sure they’re broken. But I don’t feel any pain. I want to, but I’m numb.
I head to the gym’s small kitchen in the corner and wrap my knuckles in ice. I don’t bother cleaning the blood off my stained hands. Preach follows and offers me a bottle of water and three pills.
“Take em.”
I know what they are without asking. A heavy duty sleeping pill and two pain killers. My cocktail of choice for almost three months after my last fight. Preach threw them all out one night, at least I thought he did, when I got myself to the point of self pity that I could no longer function without a handful. I was popping them like a kid with a bag full of M&Ms. When he took them away, it cost me almost ten grand. Ten grand worth of repairs when I ripped my own gym apart in anger because the damn doctor wouldn’t write me a new script to replace what Preach took. I’m surprised he’s even offering them to me now.
Preach pushes his hand cupping the pills further in my direction. “God damn it Nico, take the f**king things. You need to sleep, your body needs to rest and that stupid ass head of yours isn’t going to shut down long enough to let it. You take em like they’re supposed to be taken, a day or two to heal, not like f**king candy.”
