Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)(61)

Derrick Bailey was officially removed from our lives. He had been arrested and found guilty of assault. Not even dear old daddy had been able to get him off the hook, and lord knows he tried. Thanks to Slate speaking at his sentencing, his punishment was rather lengthy. It still didn’t feel like enough for what he had done to my Eliza, but I breathed easy every night knowing he could never touch her again—not as long as she slept at my side.

After my week off to help Eliza heal, I formally began professional boxing at On The Ropes. Slate wouldn’t schedule my first fight until he felt I was ready, and if the way he was training me was any indication, he had been right in holding me back. I was struggling to keep up with the unbelievable regimen he’d created for me. I’d worked hard my entire life, but this was something else completely. By the time I got home from the gym each night, I could barely keep my eyes open. But every day, as I stared up at that painting on the wall, I knew it would be worth it. He couldn’t work me hard enough to erase the image I had of someone painting my name into that blank. I was hell-bent on making it happen.



With the new paycheck, things loosened up around the Page house. We weren’t wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but for a crew of kids who truly knew what it meant to be broke, it sure felt that way. Especially on occasions when we could afford to actually celebrate.

“Happy birthday, Quarry!” Eliza clapped as the waiter brought plates for the cake she’d spent half the day baking.

“Eleven feels pretty good.” He rubbed his stomach, sliding down to recline in the booth.

Flint laughed beside him as he polished off his burger.

“I’m serious. I could get used to this life.” Q dragged his finger across the side of the cake, scooping off the frosting and shoving it into his mouth.

“So I was thinking. What about Till ‘The Terminator’ Page?” I asked.

“Lame!” Eliza and Flint vetoed.

“Hey. I kinda like that.”

“Thank you, Q!”

We high-fived over the table.

My new boxing nickname had been the hot topic of conversation over the previous few weeks. Slate had put a special clause at the end of my boxing contract stating that, “Till ‘The Kill’ Page” wasn’t cool enough.” Yes. He’d actually used that exact sentence in a legally binding document. He’d thought that it was pretty funny, but when I’d asked if he was kidding, he’d answered with a resounding no.

We couldn’t decide on anything. It felt like all the good ones had already been used or just didn’t fit. Earlier that afternoon, Slate had informed me that my new name was due by the next day or I was fired for breach of contract. He’d said it with a smile, so I doubted that he was serious, but I’d decided to play it safe just in case.

“Vicious Fury?” Flint suggested then popped a fry into his mouth.

“Fists of Fury!” Eliza shouted excitedly.

“Been used already, baby.” I dropped my napkin on my plate and draped an arm around her shoulders. “The Whirlwind?”

Quarry vetoed that one. “Stupid.”

“Okay, what about Till ‘The Strong Will’ Page,” Eliza suggested as she began cutting the cake.

“Oh no.” Flint threw his hands over his mouth, feigning fear. “You’ll never beat Till Page, he has a . . . a”—his chin quivered dramatically—“strong will!”

We all busted out laughing. Well, everyone except Eliza. She threw a candle.

“Okay . . . how about Till ‘The Lights Go Out’ Page? Come on! You have to admit that’s a good one!” Quarry exclaimed before shoveling chocolate cake into his mouth.

“Oh! I like the play on your name in that one,” Eliza replied, passing me a slice.

I rubbed my chin, pretending to consider it. “Well, I love it. My only concern is what if I fight someone who isn’t afraid of the dark like Q?”

“I’m not afraid of the dark!”

Even Eliza laughed that time. “The Fatal Kiss.” She leaned up and gently pecked my lips.

It caused Quarry to make a gagging sound, Flint to yell, “Veto!” and me to drop my hand into her lap. Her eyes went wide and her cheeks heated as I snuck it under the edge of her skirt.

“The Hell Greeter! You know, because of you and the whole purgatory thing.” Quarry’s eyes flashed to Eliza, who was biting her lip as she pried my hand from between her legs.

“I feel like this is purgatory,” I mumbled. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” I slid out of the booth, dragging her with me.

I threw an arm over her shoulders and the four of us walked to Eliza’s car. I was genuinely happy for quite possibly the first time in my life. I’d just paid for my entire family to have dinner at decent restaurant, and I hadn’t had to save for six months to do it. I had a job I loved, Quarry had a birthday present waiting for him at home, and Eliza was going to end the night calling my name. Life was good.

And it made me so f*cking paranoid.

“Hey, can you drive home?” Eliza handed me the keys.

“You okay?”

“I have an idea.” She rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine, biting my bottom lip as she pulled away.

“Suddenly, I have ideas too.” I looped an arm around her waist and rolled my hips into hers.