Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)(88)

Till was chewing on his bottom lip, and I knew for certain he didn’t need to hear any of it, but I also knew for certain that it would engulf me if I didn’t talk to someone so I selfishly kept going.

“Oh, God. I really thought he was dead. Then he woke up when the paramedics got there, but he just kept repeating my name.” I dropped my chin to my chest and tried to rid myself of the memories that would haunt me forever.

“Shhh. I’ve got you. He’s okay. We’re all okay,” Till choked out before pulling me into a hug.

I couldn’t see him, but it was okay. Talking wasn’t helping the ache in my chest that was threatening to devour me.

He eventually wedged his massive body onto the bed beside me and let me cry into his chest until I fell asleep. I loved Till Page, but not even his arms brought me comfort that night.



“I’m sorry,” the surgeon said, pulling off his hat. “I don’t have any answers.”

Slate translated beside the doctor. Eliza was sobbing in the bed, and I blindly reached down to hold her hand.

“You . . .” I paused as my legs started to shake. “You’re a doctor. How can you not know?” I swallowed hard.

“Spinal injuries are difficult to predict. It’s case by case, really. We’re going to do everything we can, but there is a good chance that he may never walk again.”

I choked on a shocked breath. Quarry bolted from the room, Erica hot on his heels.

“We’ll just have to wait and see. Give him some time to recover and let his body heal.”

I watched Slate’s hands, but when I made it to his eyes, they mirrored the devastation in my own.

“No. That’s not a good enough answer. Fix him.” It was worthless. I knew there was nothing the doctor could do, but that didn’t prevent me from taking an angry step forward and demanding again, “Fucking fix him.”

Slate stepped in front of me, but I didn’t explode like I was sure he was expecting me to. I was exhausted. So instead, I backed up and sat down on the edge of Eliza’s bed. She wrapped her arms around my neck from the side, and I looked up to Slate.

“I’m so sick of fighting.”

He reached forward and squeezed my shoulder. “I can’t blame you. But let’s just hope Flint doesn’t feel the same way. This isn’t your fight anymore.”

I kissed the top of Eliza’s head and rested a hand on her stomach. It was going to kill me, but Slate was right. I would have to watch this one from outside the ring.

It was Flint’s turn to fight.





BLAKELY PAGE WAS BORN THREE months after that horrible day in Vegas. She was the bright light during a dark time for all of us. With a head full of Till’s straight, black hair and my deep-blue eyes, she was beautiful—there was no disputing that. She had a tiny freckle-sized birthmark on the top of her hand that Till quickly fell in love with. He was such a great dad. He always had been though.

“The Silencer” Till Page lost his title belt after a rematch with Rick Matthews only a few months later. However, as the defending champion, the contract read a little differently that night. With a guaranteed eight figures in his pocket, “The Poor Kid Fighting For A Better Life” Till Page smiled with genuine excitement as The Brick Wall’s glove was lifted into the air. It didn’t matter one bit that he’d lost his final fight as a professional boxer. Till was the absolute winner as he walked out of that ring.

The day Till received his cochlear implant was extremely bittersweet. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as he heard Blakely cry for the very first time. Unfortunately, not everyone was there to witness it firsthand.

Flint and Quarry never truly came back from Vegas. Sure, they both returned home with us when Flint was well enough to travel, but my boys weren’t on that flight.

They lived under our roof, but after that the smiles were never as wide nor were the laughs as loud. The apartment became entirely too quiet. I understood why Flint had changed so drastically, but even my sweet, foul-mouthed Quarry withdrew. We tried too hard to make everything go back to how it used to be, but ultimately, we were forced to let go and make the best of the present.

The first thing Till did after he lost his title was write two enormous checks. Slate was more than happy to sell him fifty percent ownership of On The Ropes. Even though the funds were transferred electronically, Slate made a huge production about Till coming up to the gym late one night to deliver the check personally. It was all a ploy though. When Till walked through the door, Slate surprised him with his name painted in the coveted blank on the wall. Till was, in fact, On The Ropes’ first world champion, and he had been on every possible news and sports network you could imagine, but nothing validated his success more than seeing his name on that wall.

The second check Till wrote was to the old construction company where he used to work. We spent over a week sketching our dream house. As soon as we were finished, Till rushed it down to the architecture firm to have formal plans drawn up. It wasn’t anything huge, but it was a mansion for us. I was banned from visiting the build site. I knew he was hiding something, but Till gave me a classic one-sided grin every time I brought it up, so I let it slide. Finally, the day we were presented with our keys, he let me in on his little secret.

“Close your eyes, Doodle!”

“I’m carrying a baby, Till!”