Chapter 9 #2
“I might take you up on that,” I tell her, and she beams at me before heading back inside with Laila trotting at her heels. Theo grins at me from the doorway, shaking his head.
“I heard Laila losing her mind out here, but I didn’t think you’d make it this early,” he says. “We all figured you’d be at the gym until the last possible second with all the prep you have to do before the NYC fight.”
“I was starting to see double when I was reviewing Roman’s tapes, so I figured I’d better call it a night before I lost the ability to function entirely.” I brush dog hair off my jeans and straighten up. “Thought I’d come be useless here instead of being useless at the gym.”
Theo laughs. “Probably a good call. Come on in.”
He steps back to let me through the door, and the scent hits me as soon as I step inside, garlic and roasting chicken and fresh bread. It smells like home, like the Sunday dinners when we were kids.
Gus comes skidding around the corner from the kitchen like a small gray furry missile with no concept of traction.
He’s Theo and Chloe’s rescue mutt, a terrier mix they adopted from the shelter a few months back, and he’s an absolute menace that they are all completely obsessed with.
Twenty pounds of chaotic energy and questionable decision-making.
Gus launches himself at Laila and the two of them immediately start wrestling, tails wagging so hard they’re practically blurs.
“Gus, Laila, watch where you’re going,” Theo calls out, laughing as he steps over the tangle of dogs.
Emma and Maren are on the couch in the living room, deep in conversation about something that has them both leaning in close and gesturing, and they both look up when I come through.
“Hey, Dom!” Emma says, shifting to sit up straighter, which takes some doing given she’s ready to have that baby any day now. She’s got one hand resting on her belly and the other wrapped around a glass on the coffee table.
“Hey, Emma.” I pause by the arm of the couch. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a whale with heartburn who’s ready to evict this tenant,” she says, patting her belly. “This kid is using my bladder as a punching bag. I keep telling Theo she must take after your side of the family.”
Theo laughs from where he’s just come in behind me, settling next to Emma on the couch and putting his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t look at me. I was a peaceful baby. Mom said so.”
“Keeping the Midnight boxing tradition alive before she’s even born,” Maren adds, grinning.
“Already training.” I smile. “We’ll have her throwing jabs before you know it. Get her in the ring with Chloe.”
“God help us all,” Emma says, laughing. “Two Midnight girls ready to fight. The world isn’t ready.”
“Here, I’ll put this in the kitchen.” I hold up the bottle of wine I brought. “Do you guys need anything?”
“Kitchen counter is fine,” Maren says. “Calvin and Alex are in there wrapping up dinner.” She smiles. “And no, we’re good.”
The three of them fall back into conversation as I head toward the kitchen, following the sound of my brothers’ voices and the smell of butter and rosemary. I can hear Alex before I see him, mid-sentence and going a mile a minute about something.
“...yeah, this upcoming Napa trip should be solid. I’ve got meetings with two distributors and a tasting event lined up, so we’ll see if anything comes of it.” I round the corner and find him at the stove, gesturing with a wooden spoon while Calvin slices bread next to him.
“I hope it works out, man.” Calvin glances back and spots me in the doorway. “Hey, Dom. Good timing, dinner’s almost ready. How’s the fight prep going?”
“Good, I think,” I say, grabbing a beer out of the fridge and twisting off the cap.
“Roman’s in the best shape of his life, his timing is sharp, and he’s mentally locked in.
As long as he sticks to the game plan we should be in good shape, but Herrera is a fucking hell of a fighter, so nothing’s guaranteed. ”
Calvin nods. “I saw some footage of his last fight the other day. The guy’s a beast. But Roman’s got something special, and he’s got you in his corner. We’ll all be watching on the edge of our seats though, that’s for sure.”
“Don’t worry though, Dom,” Alex adds. “I’d pay to see the guy who could outwork you when you’ve got your mind set on something. You’re like a machine. A very gruff, obsessive machine.”
I smile despite myself. “Thanks Alex. I’m pretty sure there’s a compliment buried in there somewhere.”
“There is,” Alex says. “And I mean it, I think you’ve got this.”
“Oh, by the way,” Calvin says, turning back to check on something in the oven, “how did the gala go last night? Maren wanted to come but we had dinner plans. Did they raise good money?”
“Yeah, Dom,” Alex says with glee in his voice. “How did the gala go? Anything interesting happen?”
I shoot him a look. I will end you.
He smiles back at me, sweet as pie, completely immune to my death stare, and reaches over to grab a piece of cheese off the snack board.
“It was fine,” I say, turning back to Calvin. “Uneventful. The balance circle went well and the event raised a lot of money.”
“That’s great,” Calvin says, completely oblivious. “Martha always does a good job with those things. I was telling Maren we should go next year.”
“Oh, you absolutely should,” Alex says, nodding gravely. “Those things are always entertaining. Some might even say electrifying. Wouldn’t you agree, Dom? Electrifying?”
“I would say it was fine,” I repeat through my teeth. “And uneventful. As I said.”
“Right, right,” Alex says, popping more cheese into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “Uneventful. Got it.”
He waits until Calvin turns back to the stove, then mouths uneventful my ass at me, shaking his head with exaggerated disappointment. I flip him off behind Calvin’s back, and he flips me off right back, clearly delighted with himself.
I take a swig of my beer, trying to shove all thoughts of Brooke Bennett out of my head. The sky is going purple and orange over the water, it’s a beautiful evening, and I’m surrounded by family, and there is absolutely no reason for me to be thinking about a woman I can’t stand.
The back door opens behind me and I step aside just in time to avoid getting hit as Mateo comes through with an armful of firewood, the logs shifting precariously as he tries to navigate the doorway.
“Sorry about that,” Mateo says, catching a log that’s about to slide off the top of the pile and take out a lamp.
“No worries,” I tell him, reaching out to grab a couple of the logs before they tumble. “Here, I’ve got these.”
He nods his thanks and we head toward the fireplace together, our footsteps creaking on the old hardwood floors that have been in this house since before any of us were born.
“How’s the cabin treating you?” I ask as we crouch down to stack the wood in the iron rack beside the hearth.
He’s been staying in one of the cabins on Calvin and Maren’s property while he and Calvin get to know each other, figuring out what it means to be brothers after all these years of not knowing the other existed.
“It’s good,” Mateo says, arranging a log on the pile.
“Really good, actually. Maren and Calvin have been incredible, and the cabin itself is great. Quiet, you know? I can hear the water at night when the windows are open, and there’s something about that sound that just..
.” He trails off, shrugging as he reaches for another log. “It’s nice. Peaceful.”
Calvin mentioned at the gym the other day that it’s been going well, that Mateo seems like a really good guy, but that Calvin got the sense something bad happened before the road trip that pushed him out here.
Whatever it was, Mateo hasn’t offered details and nobody’s pushed him for them, but Calvin and Maren figured him staying at the cabin was a good way to get to know him, and give him a bit of kindness that it seemed like he maybe hasn’t had in a while.
“Dark River’s good for that,” I say, taking a sip of my beer. “Quieting things down, I mean. I grew up here but I didn’t really appreciate it until I got older.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He glances around the room at the family chaos unfolding around us. “It’s a good place. The company’s not bad either.”
He says it with a small smile, and I find myself studying him as he adds another log to the fire and adjusts the stack.
The bruises on his face have faded to faint yellow shadows, barely visible in the warm light from the flames.
He’s still got that weariness to him that from what I can tell never fully leaves, but he looks more comfortable than the last time I saw him. More settled.
“So,” I say, leaning against the mantel, “how long are you here for? Calvin mentioned you’re on leave from your job.”
Mateo nods, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Yeah, I’m on extended leave, but it’s pretty open-ended. My captain told me to take as long as I need, which is generous but also kind of makes it worse in a way. Like there’s no deadline forcing me to figure my shit out.”
“I get that,” I say. “Too much time to think can be its own problem.”
“Exactly.” He shrugs, straightening up from the fire.
“I’ll head back before too long though. It feels weird to be sitting still when normally I’m running into burning buildings or out in the mountains doing search and rescue.
I’m used to adrenaline and chaos, you know?
So the whole relaxing thing is...” He pauses, searching for the word. “Strange. Like I forgot how to do it.”
“I know the feeling.” I think about my own obsessive schedule, the 4 AM workouts and the endless hours at the gym. “Some of us aren’t built for stillness.”
“No, we’re not.” He gives me a look that suggests he recognizes a kindred spirit. “But it’s good, I think. A good break from the chaos, even if I don’t know what to do with myself half the time.”