I’ve studied Jacob over the past couple of years. Regardless of his smart mouth and his ability to get into his opponent's head, he lacks in other areas where my years of experience would chew him up and spit him out.
When being attacked, his hand speed is a second to slow to protect his face, he’s too concerned about offense, so his swings usually hit nothing but the air. Somehow he manages to escape his opponent still standing, which he wouldn’t be the champ if he didn’t.
What gives him the upper-hand, though, is once he starts to attack, he doesn’t slow down. His punches are hard and heavy on defense, going after the same spot time and time again. He can riffle off several hard jabs and then break-in with a mixture of punches when the opponent is between adjusting his footing, protecting himself, which leaves him unprepared.
He’d have been a challenge that much is sure. He still could be with one phone call.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. He’d rip you a new one, man. Now get your old ass off those ropes and come at me with all you got.”
Gage slides under the ropes, shoves his guard into his mouth, and smacks his gloves together before placing them in defense mode.
Without warning, he lunges forward before I even have a chance to push off the ropes, his left fist smashing into my ribs. I stumble sideways, air pushing through my lungs as I try and catch my breath.
Backing away, he dances around for a minute, anger rippling through me as I rock forward and toss out a jab. Gabe blocks my shot and catches me again. This time on the opposite side. His shot nearly knocks the wind out of me.
I position myself and hammer my fist into his temple.
My mouth starts watering as he lands an uppercut to my jaw. I feel the smart, the sting, and the snapping back of my neck, but it would feel so much better without this headgear protecting me.
Fists against flesh. God, I crave it. Gloves on or off, I wouldn’t care.
Need pulses through me. I can hear the crowd screaming and chanting my name as they play entrance song.
I dodge a hook, body weaving low, my taste for blood pooling in my mouth as I bite down on my guard. I breathe through my nose, drop my hands a couple of inches, giving Gage the room to let his right-hand fly, landing two quick jabs to the side of my face.
Blood rushes to my ears.
I shake the dizziness from my head, sweat drenching my hair, and close the distance between us.
Round after round, we go at it harder than we have before. Blood dripping out of both our noses.
The next slam to my head staggers me.
I stumble backward, my balance off, and my vision blurs.
A burning wave fires through my skull, sending prickles down my spine. It quickly turns into nausea. I lose focus, drop my hands, and the next thing I know, I’m knocked flat on my back.
I freeze as the room takes off in a spin.
“What the hell is going on here?” I jerk my head to the right. My vision coming into focus as my eyes land on Cody.
“I just kicked his ass, what does it look like?”
Shit. Hands down, this is one of those times in my life where Karma just bit me in my ass.
“It looks like someone owes you and me an explanation, Gage. Mason shouldn’t be boxing. He’s had too many concussions, isn’t that right, Mason? The hell are you trying to do, kill yourself? I know damn well, Eden doesn’t know about this.”
Disappointment. It’s clear as day in both their eyes.
I can’t lie my way out of this, no matter how much I wish I could.
It doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.
Chapter Eleven
Eden
“So what do you think Pixy should I forgive Mason or stay angry? You’ve been such a great friend by listening.” Pixy stays in the comfortable trance I’ve placed his him while I continue scratching and rubbing from his jaw to his ears and back down, adding kisses to the top of his head.
“I’m somewhere I never thought I’d be, and I don’t know where to go from here. Mason has broken my trust in him; he held secrets and lies from me and told them to someone else. How do I even begin to get past that? How do I stand on solid ground when all I can picture in my mind is seeing Mason and Natalie doing more than talking?” I let out a tired sigh, puffing in and out of my scrunched up lungs.
I’ve never hated that woman more than I do right now. I’ve never despised my instincts more, and I never in all the years of building a foundation based on trust thought it would crumble to the ground within a few hours.
“God, Pixy, there’s so much going through my head, I’m surprised it hasn’t exploded yet.” I lean forward and rub my nose in his soft fur. “You smell like your mom’s fruity shampoo. I miss her. I bet you do too. We have several days to go still, buddy.”
I feel helpless when all I’ve ever been is helpful. I’m angry at me when I shouldn’t be. I’m furious Mason confided in Natalie and not me. I bit my tongue so many times over the years when it came to that woman because I trusted Mason and now look where it’s gotten me.
It has me sitting in Pixy’s pen on top of a pile of hay confiding in him while I wait to talk to my best friend.
God, will this ever put them in the middle of a war, and I don’t know what to do about stopping it. It’s unavoidable. “People don’t think about their actions hurting others sometimes, Pixy boy.”
Thinking of war, it’s precisely what this is.
It’s an internal one that has every inch of me fighting against the anger of how Mason has made me feel.
Naïve and weak and hurt. Damn you, Mason. Damn you and that bitch to hell.
After leaving the cottage the other night, I white-knuckled it to Naomi’s slower than a turtle crawl and told her everything. Being the sweetheart that she is, she handed me a towel, steered me into her bathroom for a shower, and had warm milk waiting for me when I got out. I spent the night on her couch.
When we woke, she told me to take the week off and promised to call me if I was needed. I grabbed my laptop from the store, went to a hotel close by because I knew I had to check in on Pixy. I paid in cash so Mason wouldn’t find me and I hope like crazy he doesn’t show while I’m here.
Once I was settled in my room, I set about using the hotel’s internet to look up the meaning of denial while trying my best to go over the last two years of my marriage. One that I thought was as perfect as one could be.
Mason is definitely in some stage of denial. How far, it’s too early for me to tell, but he’s there. I know it with everything in me.
He has to be frantic over, not knowing where I am too. It was childish for me to disappear. For my peace of mind, I had to do it. I’m at my wits end with his lies.
“I hope Mason is learning his lesson.” I look at Pixy and smile as he lays on his belly. He’s front feet are across the top of my legs, his tongue is hanging out, and he’s looking at me as if he can see me. I have no idea how an animal’s mind works, let alone one that’s blind. Right now, I wish I couldn’t see then I wouldn’t have an overactive imagination.
I wouldn’t be picturing my husband on top of another woman, wondering if he’s done all the dirty and pleasurable things to her as he has to me.
“And, you know what else? I’ve thought more about the two of them together than I thought about what Mason has done to bring us to this point in our lives. I want to scream, Pixy. Let it all out and scream. If you hear me scream, you’ll know why.” I’ve done a lot of internal screaming these past few days. I’ve screamed in grief and sorrow. In anguish and anger. In heaps of regret and turmoil. It didn’t help.