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The moment he steps into the ring, I know it’s him. I can’t even put my finger on how I know. He’s certainly very different from the kid I used to know. He doesn’t even look the same. But it’s him.
“Is it him?” Saint asks. I can only nod and grip Roman’s hand a bit tighter. “Fuck, this is so screwed up.”
That doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s the same but different: his nose has been broken, but that’s to be expected in this profession.
Maybe it’s just him as an adult, but something has changed—I just can’t put my finger on.
He’s fit, and there’s no denying that his muscles ripple under the bright lights.
He’s fucking good-looking, even with the stern face.
Then he looks around the stands, and his eyes lock on us.
First, it looks like he’s recognised Saint and Noah, then it’s my turn. His jaw clenches, and he knows it’s me.
There’s no time for him to react because he’s called away. It’s time for him to fight.
Any thought I may have had about trying this again has gone.
There’s no way I have time to work out to reach this level of fitness.
Plus, I’ve got too much going on. I’ve just taken on a new couple to teach how to give each other what they need.
My main priority is the gym Dad handed to me; he’s entrusted me with his life’s work, and there’s no way I’ll let him down.
The first five minutes pass with Diego dancing around and throwing punches that hold no power. He’s just testing Maddox, goading him into throwing a punch. The bell rings, and they bounce back to their corner.
I don’t know what to think. It’s not like I want anything from him; I don’t even want to know why or what happened to cause him to be so-called dead.
Or am I lying to myself? He’s not an ex; we were too young to have a relationship.
Hell, I was only fourteen when I found myself in a police interrogation room, and Pops rescued me.
I lift my head up from where I’ve been staring at the floor.
I don’t want to look at him, but he’s staring at me.
Is he going through as many mixed, confusing thoughts as I am?
At least I don’t have to beat the shit out of someone when my head is all over the place.
“Are you okay?” Roman asks when I flinch at Maddox’s stare.
“Yeah, but I want out of here as soon as we can.”
“Of course, anything you want.”
I press a chaste kiss on his lips, then the bell for the second round rings.
The match is over just over a minute later.
Maddox knocks Diego out with a brutal kick to his head.
The cheers and hollers fill the hall as the referee holds up Maddox’s arm.
It doesn’t take long for the fans to empty out of their seats, the floor littered with plastic pint cups and food wrappers.
We wait until there’s enough room for the eight of us to leave together.
When we get out of the stands and down onto the floor, a man approaches me. The coach.
“Maddox would like you to stay. He wants to talk to you.”
I’m shaking my head before the man finishes speaking. “Sorry, I have to go. Please tell him well done and that it was a great fight.”
He looks disappointed but nods. “Thanks, I’ll pass on your message.”
“Don’t you want to know what happened?” Drake asks. I know he always wants the answers. This is probably annoying the hell out of him.
“Why, it’s not like we’re friends, that we know each other anymore.” I look at my brothers; they’re all looking at me like I’m crazy. “Hey, I don’t need this from you. Yes, I believe that’s my childhood friend, but it’s been too many years to have any connection.”
“Not even for closure?” Royal asks, his arm wrapped possessively around Memphis to keep him from being jostled too much.
“I got closure the day he died. The young, scared teenage kid I knew was not the one that chose gangs, drugs, and money, rather than the one I wanted to come back with me to Pops and Dad. He could’ve been one of our brothers. He turned me down.”
“I wanted to say sorry. For what I said to you the last time we spoke. I didn’t mean it,” came a voice behind me.
Slowly turning around, I come face to face with the man who, as a kid, protected me from the evil, sick men that knew I was easy prey.
He’s not the same person. Change is inevitable for everyone, but there are subtle differences: his chin is different, more sculpted, and his eyes are brown; they were hazel.
It makes it easier to reply. “Okay, thanks. Apology accepted.”
Then, turning back to face my brothers, I ask. “Shall we go?”
Roman’s eyes roll as he gives me a what the fuck look. “Knox, maybe you should listen to what he has to say.”
“Another day, maybe. We’ve got a drive ahead of us.”
We’d driven a couple of hundred miles to get here.
Roman and I have doubled up in Drake’s car, and Saint and Noah have brought Royal and Memphis.
I wish it had been the other way around because I’m going to get Drake’s opinions and ideas on how a long-dead man turns up with a new name and is now a champion MMA fighter.
Maybe I should listen to him, because the thought of the whole new identity shit should mean he keeps a quiet life, keeping clear of any danger of publicity for fear of being recognised. That cannot be said for Maddox’s life.
A shout comes from the near empty lobby. “Ellis! Where do I start to look?”
I freeze at the use of my birth name. I’d officially become Knox at the same time as the adoption. Not reacting any more than standing taller, I take Roman’s hand, then push the bar across the door to open it and stride out.
The car park is huge, and we’d parked at the rear corner, probably the furthest away point. “Slow down, Knox,” Roman berates me, tugging on my hand. “My legs aren’t as long as yours.”
I chuckle and grab his waist and throw him over my shoulder fireman style.
“Hey, put me down.” His fists pummel my arse, so I slap his hard and keep on walking.
Laughter rings out behind us, knowing that they’ve all done this to their boys. Although Drake and Finn are pretty much even in height and breadth. Drake on first sight doesn’t look like he’s a submissive, but I’ve seen him give himself to Finn, and he’s a perfect sub.
We reach the car, and I upright my lover, letting him slide down the length of my body until his feet meet the ground again. His eyes are sparkling with humour and joy. “You’re such a beast.” He tries to sound serious, but the smile that spreads around his words has my heart beating faster.
Ignoring his fake protests, I lean down to capture his lips and kiss him. A hard, delicious kiss that, as my tongue slips inside the wet heat of his mouth, he moans. I press my hips against him, and he groans. I love his reactions; his submission is completely and irrevocably given.
Drake and Finn reach the car and us, making me break the kiss.
As always, Roman sighs softly and chases my lips for one more.
I’m not going to deny him or me that pleasure and press our mouths together again.
Our relationship is getting serious, and my main thought is why did I leave it so long?
I know we’re on the same page. Which means the last thing I want is any interference from my past. I don’t think about it anymore: I don’t think of my life before Dad and Pops.
It’s not something I’ve shared with my brothers, although they know some of it.
I had enough tantrums when I was new in the family.
I absolutely don’t want Roman to know; he doesn’t need that shitshow in his head, not when we’re building something so good.
I can’t imagine Maddox will want to talk about Dean’s life.
We get settled in the back seat of Drake’s large, fast BMW.
There’s enough of a gap between the front seats and us that talking quietly can stay private.
Not that I have much to say. I don’t think I can fully process this new plot twist in my life.
All the laughing and joking we shared on the way has gone.
It’s half an hour later when Drake breaks the silence.
“I did some more digging after Maddox came into our lives. I went back through all the information that was public knowledge when he died. Then I switched to the details of his life in the run up to his death; it’s not pretty.
He’d fallen into one of the most dangerous gangs.
It started with him just running drugs, but later he was initiated into the gang as a full member.
To do that, he had the shit kicked out of him and the gang’s tattoo inked on his chest.”
“That’s enough reason to fake your own death,” Roman says. “It can’t be easy to create a new identity. I know it’s been done. The kids that killed the little boy and the girlfriend of the man who killed the two girls.”
Drake answers. “They’re different to this.
They were all ex-prisoners. Yes, it was to give them some anonymity in an attempt to keep them safe.
Maddox wasn’t a prisoner, and they faked his death.
It had to be believed by the two rival gangs.
He would be safer with a new identity because they wouldn’t look for him.
Which leads me to the reason why. The only answer is he became a grass.
He was approached by someone, which can be narrowed down to the police drug squad or the secret service.
Has he changed much, Knox, visibly, I mean? ”
“Um…” I’m still a few sentences back and Drake saying he was a grass, a snitch, and how much he’d seen, heard, or done to want to do that.
Was it his only way out? “Um, yeah, a little bit. A broken nose, but I think that’s par for the course in his profession, but it’s been over ten years, bro.
I’m not the kid I was when he last saw me. I’m a completely different person.”
“That’s not unheard of. Contact lens can do that, but there is a surgical way to alter them permanently.
The others are plastic surgery. Do you want me to tell you what else I found out, or do you want to forget about him?
I don’t think he’s going away. He knows where Saint is, the trail from there isn’t too difficult to follow. ”
“No more tonight. I think I’ll put him on the back burner. He may leave me alone.”
“I think it would be a shame if you never get to know each other. To share what you’ve done since you separated. You both have successful careers and life experiences. Wouldn’t you like to know about them?” Roman says as he leans against me. I slip my arm around his shoulder and let him sleep.
He’s right, and I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.