Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)(14)

That is until I met Mia March, the only person who would ever be able to fill Quarry’s shoes—complete with shredding me in betrayal.

It was a Friday, and I’d just gotten home from school. I was looking forward to a low-key weekend spent in my room with the radio blaring. Maybe doing a little online shoe shopping. But my entire life changed as I was going through the mail. My heart stopped, and panic rolled in my stomach. With shaking hands, I lifted my father’s latest issue of USA Boxing Magazine. On the front was a picture of Till and Quarry standing back to back. I would have ripped it out and added it to my scrapbook—err, if I’d had one. But the headline stopped me in my tracks.

Find out how newly deaf Quarry Page plans to not only follow in his brother’s footsteps, but also surpass The Silencer’s reign in the ring.

“Mom!” I yelled, dropping the magazine and tearing from the room. “He’s deaf?” I accused when I found her sitting in her office, probably working on something for my dad’s security company.

Her eyes lifted to mine, and a tight smile formed on her lips. “Well—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know you’d be interested in news about Quarry.”

“Are you crazy? He’s deaf! Of course I’m interested!”

“I am a little crazy, but so are you if you think you’re going to continue yelling at me like that.” She nonchalantly brushed her long, blond hair back and pushed out from behind the desk. “Okay, so you’re interested. What now?”

“What do you mean? What now?” I stared at her, incredulous.

“Do you want me to tell you what’s been going on with Quarry for the last three years, or do you want to ask him yourself? I bet he’d sign something to add to that shrine you keep tucked under your bed.” She absently smoothed her fitted dress, which I promptly decided to order in my size.

“Just tell me,” I huffed.

“Well, his hearing took a significant downslide about—”

She didn’t even get all the words out of her mouth before my stomach dropped. I couldn’t imagine how Q was handling it. He wasn’t a boy anymore—that much was visible. But I’d witnessed firsthand how devastated he had been when Till had lost his hearing. Now, it was the future and he was the one adjusting to a new life—in silence. Just the thought terrified me.

“I want to go to Indy,” I blurted.

Her knowing smile grew. “About time. I’ll tell your dad I need to discuss some things with Erica.”

“What? Dad wouldn’t care if we—”

“Pack a bag, Liv. We don’t want to get on the road too late.” She breezed past me, leaving me alone in the quiet room.

But that wasn’t why I started freaking out. What the hell was I doing?

Later, Q.

Later, Rocky.

It was officially later.

I needed to be there. If not for him, then for me.

It was time to let the past go.

Crap.




Three hours later, I was standing in the doorway of On The Ropes, watching a shirtless Quarry Page destroy a speed bag. It was late and the gym was mostly empty, but even if it had been packed, I wouldn’t have been able to miss him.

I knew he’d changed from the pictures, but God, had he changed. Not quite seventeen yet, but he was well over six feet tall, and two black tattoos graced the traps at the base of his neck. His hair was probably the same length as the last time I’d seen him. However, it was no longer hanging in his eyes. The front was slicked back, most likely with a combination of gel and sweat, and the underneath was buzzed short. Not a hair fell out of place as he rhythmically pounded the swinging bag, switching hands with every punch. The sheen of sweat indicated he’d been at it for a while, but his arms remained steady, never slowing. My mouth dried as my eyes raked over his strong body—every inch rippled with muscles.

Quarry was a man. And a gorgeous one at that.

I stared for entirely too long before remembering why I was there in the first place.

He was going to think I was insane, showing up after all these years. But, if there was ever someone who would understand why I needed to be there, it was him.

Rushing forward, I slammed into his back and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face between his shoulder blades.

His hands stilled in midair, but his muscular body instantly relaxed. His heart pounded out a rhythm that matched my own. Though his was probably only from the exertion of his workout. I couldn’t handle the idea that he might be excited to see me too. I was there to soothe my own fears. Not for him. Well, not completely.

“Hey, Rocky,” he said in a deep baritone without even looking back.

Staying flush against his back, I lifted my hands in front of him and signed, Hey, Q.

“I was wondering if you were going to show up.”

I continued to clumsily sign with my hands in front of him, using his body to make some of the gestures. I just heard. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? How are you doing?

His shoulder shook as he chuckled. “I’m okay. I see you kept up your end of the deal and learned sign.” His voice was thick but unreadable. “I’m kinda failing on my end. Sorry.”

Don’t you dare apologize. You didn’t fail anything. This was—