Chapter 38
38
[Judd]
M ack’s is located outside of Charleston. With a pub-like feel in the front, similar to The Boxer near Knoxville, the place is dimly lit with dark wood accents. Behind a swing door is a functioning boxing circuit that caters to local enthusiasts in the know.
As I’d told Genie, my family was on a need-to-know basis, and I hadn’t wanted them to know.
Mainly, I hadn’t wanted their judgement. Stone might worry it’s not legal. Clay would definitely find reasons I should not participate. Knox might even think I’m imitating our father.
None of these things could be further than the truth.
My rage is internalized, and I manage it in this controlled environment. In the ring is where I release the lingering anger for my father. In the ring is where I release the frustration toward myself for ever being weak. In the ring is where I explode before everything else consumes me.
And tonight, I have Genie by my side. Or at least, holding my hand as we enter Mack’s. We hang out in the pub, not saying much, until it’s almost time for my match. Too quickly, I’m leaving her seated at a table near the ring and disappearing to change into my silky purple shorts with a thick black waistband.
For a moment, I hesitate, knowing Genie is out there among drunken men. She’ll be sitting alone amid men hyped up on adrenaline. The excitement of competition. The thrill of a bet. The rush of alcohol. And she’s doing this for me.
I’m not worth it.
The energy around me is a clash of emotions. I’m thrilled to have Genie present. I’m concerned about her thoughts. I want to impress her. I do not want to disappoint her. I’m worried she’ll still be upset by my fighting, and I wish I could form the words to clearly explain myself. Why I do what I do.
The idea of talking through my emotions in therapy did not appeal to me. Talking in general often wasn’t high on my list of things to do. Boxing felt like a good alternative.
With Genie, it’d been different, though. We talk but we are also good in silence.
Fighting got me out of my head. In the ring, the sweat and exhaustion freed any pent-up anger and cleared my mind for a little while. From week to week, I could manage any memories or doubts, fears or frustrations. The fight took it all out of me.
Then again, Genie does the same thing for me.
Spending time with her is a comfort. And now that she’s officially my girlfriend, hope of making things even more permanent between us has sprung up and that settled some of the anger constantly swirling in my head.
I am not alone with Genie here.
Through the closed door of the locker room, which is more like an old supply closet emptied of everything other than a few hooks on the wall and a safe for personal belongings, I hear the thump-thump-thump of loud bass music.
My heart matches the rhythm.
He makes my heart go thud-thud - thud .
I shake away the whisper of Genie’s limerick, knowing I need to get my head in the ring. Closing my eyes, I visualize the space. I picture my faceless opponent. My movements become clearer.
Left jab. Right hook. Left hook.
But then Genie’s in my head again. Her eyes as she looked up at me after I kissed her at the table. The fear in them. She’s truly scared for me, and deep down, she doesn’t want to see someone hit me. She doesn’t want to see me hurt.
As I’m seated on a folding chair, head bowed and right leg bouncing, I sit upright, roll my shoulders back and hold my head higher.
I won’t be hurt. I am not weak. I am not a coward.
I’ll win tonight and maybe renegotiate my time with Mack. He likes to keep guys that are good on a regular rotation. Keeps the patrons coming back and the crowd involved. Bets are up. Tips run heavy.
For me, it’s not about the money.
Thinking of Genie again, I wonder what it is I’m fighting for, then?
The door swings open and a familiar young voice calls my name. “Sylver. You’re up.” The thumping beat roars louder with the door open. The crowd is raucous with shouts and chants echoing down the narrow hall to this even narrower space.
Typically, the sound seeps into my veins. The noise infuses me with more energy. More clarity.
I’m about to fight.
I’m also feeling a little off tonight.
A strange vibe buzzes around me. Nerves I haven’t felt since my first fight years ago. When Harvey Mack asked why a pretty boy like me would want to box. He didn’t like my answer. I said I had my reasons. Hoping to set me down a peg, he put me in the ring with a guy in the next higher weight class. I didn’t win but I held my own, hellbent on proving myself. To Harvey. To me.
And I’ve become a fan favorite.
But now, who was I proving anything to? Genie didn’t want to see this side of me, but she was also sitting out there waiting on me.
She’d be my reason to fight tonight.
I press off the cold metal chair and follow the kid into the dim arena. An area that is darker than the front bar, lighting aimed only on the twenty-by-twenty space. The air around the ring is smoky although smoking is not allowed in here. The surrounding tables are hard to make out, but I know exactly where Genie is seated.
As I slide through the ropes, I glance her way, noticing two men are also sitting at the table with her while two more stand behind her like bodyguards. Arms crossed over their chests. Stern looks on their faces.
Shit .
Knox and Ford both look stoic. Clay leans on the table, his face unreadable for once. Sebastian sits next to him, leaning forward against his thighs, one leg bouncing like mine had been only moments ago.
At first, anger spikes. Genie . What did she do? How could she do this to me? I feel betrayed. I’d trusted her with this secret, not wanting my family to know. Wanting something for me.
A new surge fills me. A fresh level of irritation.
Why am I only proving to myself I can fight? They should all see that I’m not a weakling. I’m stronger than they give me credit. I’m braver than they know.
So when the match is called and my opponent, some guy from Wrightwood, another small town in West Virginia, steps forward, I easily fall into a better mindset.
Focus. Determination. Fight.
We dance, at first. A hop here, a bounce there, until the first punch is thrown. I’m not even certain who strikes first.
As the battle begins, I’m all in. The gathered crowd disappears. The murmur of the patrons mutes. Nothing outside the ring exists for me.
My mind goes blank.
Then, that unfamiliar buzz humming near me in the locker room returns. The energy crackling around me like a sudden summer storm. I shake it off again.
My opponent and I circle one another before a second round of hits happen. A right hook to his chest. A left jab to my shoulder.
Despite my no-face rule, my opposition gets a knock to my head, and I twist.
The sharp feminine gasp from just outside the ring breaks through the muting barrier in my head. My vision flips outside the perimeters of the ropes. In a matter of seconds, I take in everything.
Genie’s hand covering her mouth. Clay sitting straighter. Sebastian leaning upright, holding up a fist. Knox has lowered his arms. Ford leans toward him, muttering something out the side of his mouth.
Then, I hear my name. “Get him, Judd.”
I don’t know who calls it, but it brings me back to the ring and the man standing opposite me, bouncing on his toes and taunting me.
“Pretty little thing you got there,” he snarks, salacious and hungry for a taste of what’s mine.
I lose my mind at the thought of anyone coming near Genie. Hurting her. Touching her. And I become a fury of fists. Practiced punches and hammering hooks. Quick jabs and dancing feet.
The next few minutes are a whirlwind until someone is pulling me off my opponent and pressing me into the opposite corner.
My chest heaves. My heart thunders against my ribs.
I glance toward the table where my family remains, staring in shock and wonder and pride.
But Genie is missing.
“Where is she?” I’ve hopped the ropes, sweat blurring my vision. My chest feels constricted. I can’t breathe. “Where did she go?”
“Take it easy,” Sebastian says, his hand on my rising chest. “She only stepped outside for a breather.”
I brush past my brother and race toward the pub, still wearing my shorts and gloves. Still breathing heavily.
“Hey,” the bartender calls out as I rush into the outer bar, knowing all competitors need to be changed and presentable before entering this portion of Mack’s.
I ignore him as I run toward the front door and out to the sidewalk, looking left then right before jogging to the parking lot.
There, among the darkness and parked cars, I find Genie pacing back and forth.
“Firefly,” I call out and she stills. I close the distance between us, grateful that she leaps for me.
I’ll catch her every time.
With her arms around my neck, I lift her off her feet and squeeze her to my sweaty chest. “Don’t leave me.”
One of my greatest fears seeps between us.
“Judd.” Her hand comes to the side of my head. “Baby.”
She squirms in my arms until I set her on her feet. Then, she’s pressing back from me when I only want to hold her tighter. Reluctantly, I give her the space she seems to need.
Her cool hands cup my cheeks, and I risk looking her in the eyes. Those dark orbs with flecks of gold, pinpricks of light dancing in the blackness.
My firefly.
“You are so beautiful.”
Her words bring me up short. “What?” I pull back a little more, uncertain I’ve heard her correctly.
Her hands skim down my sweat-coated arms and her gaze follows the trail she burns into my flesh. “All long limbs and powerhouse strength. Your body is incredible. And you have skill. Real talent.” Her voice is full of awe.
“Then why did you leave?”
Genie is shaking her head, her gaze dropping. “I still can’t watch, Judd.” She looks up at me, sad while proud. “I cannot witness someone hitting you like that.”
Her hands return to my face. “After all you’ve been through. For me .” She swallows thickly, remembering what I told her about our prom night. All those years ago and yet a memory so fresh in my head most days, until recently. Until her.
“Firefly, I?—”
She covers my lips with her fingers. “You’re amazing, Judd. Truly gifted. But that”—she nods toward the bar—“is too much for me.”
She pauses again, her gaze darting all over my face. Sweat trickles down my temples and along my nose, but I don’t dare break our stare. I’m afraid if I look away, she’ll disappear.
“I’m here to support you, Judd. I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, as long as I don’t have to watch you take a beating.”
“I won.” My voice is rough, scratchy and raw. I was not beat.
She shakes her head. “But you don’t need a boxing match to prove to me you’re a winner. You’ve won my heart, Judd. And I’ll be by your side for whatever you need. Just . . . Please, don’t ask me to sit ringside and watch that again.”
I lift my hand for her cheek and then remember my boxing glove. I want to hold her hand, link our fingers. Together, we’ll weather the storms. But I also want sunny days with her.
With my wrist at my mouth, I tug at the glove closure with my teeth. Then, I hold out my hand. “Tug,” I gently demand.
Genie gives the bulky protection a yank, and then giggles when it hardly budges.
“I’ve got it.”
I spin to face the masculine voice I’d recognize in my sleep. Behind me, Stone stands with his hands on his hips.
I lower my head, and Genie guides my gloved hand toward my eldest brother. With steady hands, Stone removes one glove and then the other, tucking them each beneath his armpits.
He glances at Genie standing partially behind me. “I’ll give you another minute.” Then he steps back but not far enough that I can run.
Not that I would, but I’d love nothing more than to pick up Genie and make a dash for my truck.
Instead, I turn back to her, brows pinching. Irritation creeping back into my veins. “What did you do?”
Her eyes widen, her hands coming up, palm out in defense. “I only spoke to Clay.”
“That’s like taking out a headline in the local paper.” My tone is harsher than it needs to be, and my words aren’t exactly true. Knox is the gossip.
“They needed to know.”
“And it was my place to tell them when I was ready.” I don’t want to argue with Genie, but she had no right to tell my family what I was doing.
“They love you,” she lowers both her head and her voice. “You’re fortunate to have them.”
It’s a reminder that Genie is alone. An only child with a revolving door of stepsiblings she never connected with, and three stepfathers plus an evil mother.
For me, I have five overbearing brothers present and one kid sister who is probably wearing a path into the wood floors back in her home.
This is what I didn’t want.
“They’re worried about you.”
“Exactly,” I snap.
“It’s called love, Judd. Appreciate it.” When she spins on her heels, I take a step to follow her, but a firm hand on my shoulder stops me. My gaze continues to track Genie until she’s safely inside the bar again.
“We need to talk.” Stone’s voice rings serious and firm in my ear as I watch my girl walk away from me.