He’s giving up the fight and letting it consume him, and we’re all in the path of his implosion.
It’s not going to go away overnight. This is depression. He’s barely living. Mechanical. Easy to anger and quick to blow up. There’s no solution. He might be living in his reality, but he’s also drowning in it and has been for way too long. When I arrived in Texas, I thought the hard part of the battle would be convincing him I’m sincere, and it has been, but the real battle will be to show him his mirror.
I can’t confess anything when he’s in this state.
A full minute into the song and he’s not winded in the least, his combos coming out at a machine gun pace. Body, body, uppercut. He’s hungrier than he was when we met, more jaded, less willing to believe in the dream, in any dream.
Strong torso twisting with each step as he charges forward, his speed increases with the weight of his throws. Covered in a sheen of sweat, his body glistens like he’s covered in kerosene as he catches fire. His bruises and scars just as visible to me as the first time I saw him, but they’ve multiplied.
The words of the song bleed in my ears and trickle down to fester in my chest as the bag jerks on the chain like a piñata. I’m certain he’s never hit this hard in his career, in his life.
This is thunder, a warning.
“Jesus Christ,” Tony mutters, appearing next to me at the door just as the song peaks and Lance cracks through the leather of the bag. It’s then I see it, the awe and fear on Tony’s face. Neither of us has ever met this side of Lance. Just as I’m about to speak up, Lance knocks the bag off the hook, and it lands with a thud clouding up the dust on the floor of the barn.
Harper
The crunch of gravel announces a new arrival as a Ford pickup pulls up next to the barn. A guy who looks around Lance’s age and build jumps out. I’m in a folding lawn chair next to the ring and am the first to greet him.
“Hello.”
“Hey there,” he says with a smile, heading towards Tony. Lance barely glances up before resuming his strikes on the bag.
“Hey, man,” Tony greets as the guy nods toward Lance.
“That him?”
“Yeah.”
“This should be fun.” The guy smiles, and it’s then I realize just how good-looking he is. He pulls off a ball cap, revealing light blond hair and tugs off his hoodie, uncovering his ripped form. He’s so hot, a nervous laugh erupts from me. All eyes shoot in my direction, including those of my ex-boyfriend.
“Sorry,” I lift my phone. “René…” I trail off. Lance isn’t buying it, and a grinning Tony isn’t either. Rip makes the introductions. “Lance, this is Nick Regis—your sparring partner today.”
Lance nods, slapping the side of the bag with his fist and making it jump. “‘Sup. Thanks for coming out.”
Rip starts taping Nick’s hands as my eyes dart between the two. “No problem. Heard you’re coming up quick.”
“Working on it,” Lance grunts out, tapping the bag twice more.
“Might want to save some of that for me.”
I can’t help my wicked mouth. “Oh, he’s got stamina.”
Lance bites his lips to hide a smile. I consider it a small miracle. We haven’t spoken in a day, and though still aloof, we’ve worked alongside each other in a sort of silent truce, neither of us willing to give in. I’m still working out a way to bridge the gap since he’s become untouchable.
“I didn’t mean that as a compliment,” I say dryly, turning to Nick. “He’s full of hot air.”
Lance rolls his eyes. “Ready when you are.”
Trevor pulls up a few minutes later in his Dad’s beat-up truck, hauling ass to Lance’s corner. “Damn, I would have been pissed to miss this.” He glances over at me and blows me a kiss. “Lady love.”
I give him a wink. “Hiya, handsome.”
Lance grumbles and places his mouthguard in. The barn goes eerily silent as Lance’s background music dies down. “I’m on it,” Trevor says as he and Lance exchange a look.
“No music,” Tony says.
Lance shakes his head in protest.
“Tough shit,” Tony retorts, “you don’t get your crutch, and we’re going all rounds today.”
Lance looks surprised. “I’ve been at it half the day.”
“That’s the point. It’s time to mix it up.”
Nick steps inside the ring and looks around. “Nice setup, man.”
“Thanks,” Lance grunts, seeming unimpressed with the whole situation.
“That yours too?” He nods over to where I sit. I wait with bated breath as Lance’s eyes roam over to me. My heart is beating in my throat. I know what answer I want him to give, what I desperately want to hear, but know he won’t give it to me. In his heart right now, he doesn’t believe it to be true. But it doesn’t affect the sting of his answer.
“No.”
“She’s mine, actually,” Trevor says easily.
Nick chuckles. “Sure, kid.”
“You can suck this kid’s nuts,” Trevor quips.
“Easy, killer,” Tony chuckles.
“Give me a few to warm up,” Nick says, walking to his corner.
“Sure,” Lance says, his eyes finding mine.
“Tony,” I say, keeping my eyes locked with Lance. “Would you have a beer with me after dinner?”
“Sure.”
“Nick, how about you? Would you like to join us? I looked up this bar down the road a few miles. I want to shoot some pool.”
Nick eyes Tony and nods. “Sure.”
“You’re going to the Rust Hole?” Trevor says with a sour look on his face.
“Sorry, buddy,” I say. “I’ve been working my ass off. I need to blow off steam.”
Lance taps his gloves together, soaking in every word. I know I’m walking a dangerous line, but I can’t help but fixate on his answer to Nick. I’m at my limit. I love him, and I know he loves me. But if he won’t even admit to a stranger who I belong to, how in the hell will we ever get out of this mess together?
I’ll stand my ground, but I can only stand so much punishment.
Air thick with tension, Tony orders at Rip to take Nick’s corner while Trevor stays back with Lance. The guys face off in the center of the ring as Tony gives them a rundown. And with the ring of the imaginary bell, hell unleashes.
I’m on my feet as Lance throws a combination, dazing Nick on the ropes. Nick shakes back to in enough time to dodge what I’m sure would have been a knockout blow. Lance is wholly concentrated on the fight, channeling his fury into his fists as Nick rises to the challenge, landing one blow after another. Tony had told us at the kitchen table last night that Nick was going pro in a few months. Lance finally has a worthy sparring partner and in the last six rounds of boxing, he’s proven himself, but I can see the fatigue growing in his steps, in his throws. Lance’s stamina is obliterating his defense, every punch he throws wearing him down. It’s a fair fight, but I can physically feel the air change when Jack steps into the barn ringside. Lance throws one combo after another, swiping Nick’s headgear askew.