Caged (Mastered, #4)(85)
Beck laughed. “And people say you have no sense of humor.”
“I thought people said I was an * with no heart.”
“They say that too.” Beck tipped up his water jug and drank. “So you reminded Molly of your * side last night?”
“Yeah.” He stared at the seats across the stadium until they were an orange blur. “I got backed into a corner. Couldn’t come out swinging, so my mouth ran unchecked.”
“Huh. I’m surprised you didn’t just close down. That’s what I see you do when Maddox gets under your skin during training.”
“I did that too. Verbally attacked her and then silence.” When he admitted that out loud, he wondered why the hell Molly put up with him. Wasn’t the first time he’d reacted that way, and it wouldn’t be the last. “Jesus. I’m a real f*cking prize, huh?”
“Give her some time, D.”
“How much time? The longer I stay away from her, the better the chances she’ll think I don’t give a damn about her. I know her. Unless I can convince her I am capable of change, she’ll assume the worst and then cut me off at the knees.”
“Molly has already changed you. You never would’ve talked to me about this personal, emotional shit before.”
“Like you gave me a choice, douche bag.”
Beck shrugged. “It’s how I show I care, f*ckface.” He drained his water jug. “My advice, for what it’s worth, is steer clear of her until the weekend. She’ll be an emotional train wreck for a few days. Be best if you don’t hop on until she’s past crazy town.”
“Nice.”
“Hey, I’m trying to help since you’re new to the ins and outs of relationships. Her friends will rally around her. They’ll listen as she calls you every name in the book, as she details your flaws to them, as she lists every time you disappointed her. Then she’ll question what she ever saw in you. Her posse will offer advice, most of which she’ll ignore. But she’ll have time to chew over all of it before you two meet face-to-face and figure out where to go from there.”
The thought of Molly telling anyone about his private pain in order to gain sympathy made his stomach churn.
No. His Molly wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t like other women. She’d keep this between them. Even if she walked away.
“You’re quiet. Because you don’t agree with me?”
“You’ve got a lot of advice on how women think and act, yet I ain’t ever seen you out with a woman.”
“You and me haven’t exactly swapped life histories, Yondan. But since you asked, I’ll just say, five years ago I lost my wife and my job at Black Arts within four months of each other. I moved to San Fran and reset my priorities.”
“Was it sweet vindication when Ronin asked you to return to Black Arts?”
“Ronin Black turned my life upside down. Firing me wasn’t as unsettling as his mistaken assumption that I’d betrayed him. He served as judge and executioner. To make matters worse, my mom works for Okada, and she can’t say enough good things about the company. So I had to lie to her about my reason for leaving Black Arts. That never sat well with me. Anyway, being with House of Kenji gave me perspective I lacked. When Ronin approached me about returning, I knew things would be different.”
“Why?”
“Well, because ‘never forgive, never forget’ Sensei Black came to me. Before, he wouldn’t have lowered himself to ask for my help, say nothing of my forgiveness. He’s changed. His vision for Black Arts has changed. I’ve changed. I have value to him now because I have other experiences to draw from.” He grinned. “I just have to practice patience and remind myself not all changes have to be immediate. Some things are worth waiting for.”
In Beck’s sneaky way, he’d imparted the advice Deacon needed. “You sound like Ronin.”
“I’ll take that compliment.” Beck stood. “Break’s over. Ten more sets.”
“I thought we were done.”
“You thought wrong.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THURSDAY afternoon, Chaz pulled Molly’s chair away from her desk and spun her around. Then he dropped to his knees in front of her.
“Chaz, while I’m flattered you look as if you’re about to pop the question—”
“I’m about to pop a blood vessel, doll.” He watched her very carefully. “I heard you crying in the bathroom again this morning.”
“And here I thought noises we hear coming from the bathroom weren’t a topic of conversation.”
“I’d laugh if I didn’t want to cry right along with you, because I know you’re hurting.”
“Chaz.”
“What happened with Deacon?”
“We broke up.”
His eyes flashed impatience. “Why?”
“I can’t talk about it. But he didn’t do anything to physically harm me anywhere on my body—paraphrased from our paralegal dropout pal, Presley.”
“Good. But that still doesn’t give me any idea what I can do to help you.”
Leave me alone. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He took her hands. “Please. Talk to me.”