Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)(35)

“She really does, doesn’t she?” I smirked, and Till burst out laughing.

He suddenly sat up, causing my sketchpad to fall to the ground. His laughs were silenced as he dragged me onto his lap and buried his head in my neck.

“Oh, God, Doodle.” The agony in his voice shredded me.

“Talk to me,” I said louder than necessary since he wasn’t looking at me.

“The doctor I saw today thinks it’s genetic,” he confessed against my neck. “He wants to test Flint and Quarry.”

My stomach twisted.

“What am I supposed to tell them? If they have this too . . . I . . . Fuck! I can’t do this.”

“Okay. Let’s stop for a second.” I crawled off his lap so I could see him. “What exactly did the doctor say? He thinks it’s genetic, so he doesn’t know for sure?”

“He’s pretty positive. He said he couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t fit into any one category of sensorineural hearing loss, so he’s assuming it was some combination that was passed down.”

“All right. What did he say were the chances of Flint and Q having it? They haven’t shown any symptoms, have they? I mean, you were already at eighty percent by the time you were thirteen, right? Surely, we would have noticed something, at least in Flint. What type of test would he want to run on them? And when does he want to do it? The sooner the better, right?” If I just kept talking, I felt like I could sort it out. But the more questions I asked, the more it seemed to piss Till off.

“I don’t know!” He jumped to his feet and drunkenly stumbled.

“Well, let’s figure it out.”

“Goddammit, I don’t know how to figure this out!” he shouted, startling me.

“Hey! Don’t yell at me! I’m just trying to help.” I pushed to my feet and brushed the dirt off the back of my pants.

“Well, you’re not. You’re making me feel stupid for not asking all that shit.” He shoved a hand through his hair.

“I’m trying to figure out a way to fix this!”

“You can’t fix this! No one can. They are either going deaf or they aren’t!”

“Calm down and let’s—”

“No. This is a f*cking nightmare. I’m going to bed. I can’t do this.” He stormed off, tripping over the edge of the flowerbed.

“Not a bad idea. Sleep that shit off,” I barked as he staggered away.

“You ruined purgatory!” he yelled over his shoulder, and I rolled my eyes at his dramatics.

Drunk Till was an ass.

I walked back to my apartment, and I heard his feet clomping up the steps. I knew he wouldn’t want the boys to see him drunk, and as much as I wanted to stay pissed and not care, I still did. I went straight to my bedroom and dragged off my shoes. And after crawling into bed, I listened for Till to make his way to his room.

Several minutes later, when I still hadn’t heard his door shut, I began to worry.

“Till?” I called to the ceiling.

“Yeah,” he replied, lifting my window open.

“Shit!” I cried. “What is wrong with you? Why are you never where you are supposed to be tonight?” I shouted at him as I tried to slow my pulse.

He folded his bulky body inside. As much I wanted to hold on to my anger, with his next words, Till Page robbed me of my God-given right as a woman to be mad at a stupid man.

“Maybe I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“Maybe you’re drunk,” I snarked in order to hide the way my heart skipped.

Throwing back the covers, I issued an unspoken invitation for him to join me. It wasn’t unusual for Till to hang out in bed with me. We would lie there late at night and talk about random shit. We didn’t exactly cuddle anymore, but he always found ways to touch me.

“I’m sorry.” He kicked his shoes off the end of the bed, making it quite obvious that he was planning to stay for a while. “It’s just . . . I’m in over my head, Doodle.” He paused to cross his arms behind his head. “I want to give those boys so much more than we had growing up, but I just don’t have it to give.” He turned to look at me, and his eyes sparkled with desperation. “I want to be there for them, but in order to pay the rent and buy the shit they need for school, I have to work damn near twenty-four-seven. Then there’s the commitment at the gym. I love the way I feel inside that ring, but I guess I could give it up. We eat two meals a day there though. If we quit doing that, I’d have to pull more grocery money from the already negative bank account.

“Then Quarry’s just starting to fit in at the gym, and he’s really showing talent. I’m not sure what would happen if I stopped showing up to train him every night. He’s still not sold on the work ethic Slate instills. Although, it’s been a month since he tried to skip school, so I guess that’s progress. And Flint . . .” He went silent. I had almost convinced myself that he had fallen asleep when he boomed, “Christ, that kid is smart! I can’t pay for it, Doodle. All the after-school stuff he wants to do. And I mean the good stuff that parents pray their kids will be interested in. He’s a beast in the ring but equally as talented out of it. They’ve never had it easy, and now, they have to be tested to see if they are ultimately going to struggle for the rest of their lives. It’s just not f*cking fair.”