“We’re having a baby,” he repeated, but it wasn’t said with happiness or even fear. It was said with pride and victory. “When I first lost my hearing, I stayed awake one night freaking out about the fact that our kids might have to deal with this one day.” He pointed to his ears. “But, Eliza, who cares? Look how perfect she is.” He held the picture up.
“Till, listen to me. He—”
He narrowed his eyes.
“—won’t ever have to experience this. Quarry either. They can get the implant. You’ve shouldered this for everyone. You wanted to give us all a better life. And you’ve done it. We aren’t millionaires, but we’ve made it. The only question now is: When does Till get the better life?”
“HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?” SLATE asked as soon I walked into his office.
“Seen what?” I replied.
He turned his laptop around to face me, and I immediately recognized the still preview. It was the setup of amateur night at On The Ropes. He pressed play and I watched myself rise from the corner stool. My eyes were glaring across the ring.
I leaned in close to the computer and could barely make out Eliza seated with Derrick Bailey at her side. His arm was around the back of her chair, and even though I knew it had been well over two years since that night, the same rage bubbled in my stomach. Both on the screen and in the present, I watched Eliza until Rick “The Brick Wall” Matthews rush toward me.
I saw my attention only leave her long enough to step forward and throw two punches—which dropped Matthews to the mat. I didn’t even stay to celebrate my win. I simply stormed back to the corner and started pulling off my gloves. I could still feel my desperation to get her away from him. Justified desperation.
The video suddenly cut off, and I looked up at Slate as I arrogantly dusted off my shoulder. He let out a silent laugh.
“I woke to a million phone calls and emails this morning. This thing has been viewed over a million times in twenty-four hours.”
“Nice!” I smiled and pressed play again.
“People are going nuts trying to find out more about the only man to ever drop The Brick Wall.”
I lifted my eyebrows in shock. “Really?”
“His balls are aching.”
“I can’t blame him.” I watched as he once again crumbled while I walked away unfazed.
“He has built an empire on the fact that no one can knock him out.”
I rolled my eyes and pressed play again. Each time, only watching her.
Slate shoved a hand in front of the screen. “Apparently, he’s catching a lot of shit over this little video. It was played on a loop on ESPN last night while he was on a phone interview.”
My eyes grew wide. “Seriously?”
He wants a rematch.
Time froze.
Dollar signs flashed.
My smile grew.
“I told him to go fuck himself.”
I jumped to my feet. “Why?” I yelled. “Call him back!”
“No title on the line and they want to pay you shit. You made more at your last fight.”
I rolled my bottom lip between my fingers. “Can we negotiate pay? How big of a fight are we talking? Vegas?”
“Potentially. His image is hurting. They are going to want to make this huge. Listen to me. They are trying to use you like a bum to save his reputation, and if you lose, that is exactly what you will become.”
But what Slate couldn’t possibly know was that, in the span of twenty-four hours, my priorities had dramatically shifted.
“Eliza’s pregnant,” I blurted.
Slates jaw dropped open as his mouth formed a shocked “O.”
“We went to the doctor yesterday, and I. . . .” I paused because it was the first time I was going to admit my decision. I hadn’t even told Eliza yet. Up until that moment, saying it out loud had seemed too final. “They did this little ultrasound, and I couldn’t hear her heartbeat. I realized that I wouldn’t be able to hear her cry, or laugh, or talk.” I stopped to give myself time to let it really sink in. “All I can think about is what if she sounds like Eliza. Slate, I can’t miss that. You told me a while back that money is only as good as what it can give you. Well, it’s official. The incentive is no longer worth the sacrifice.” I sucked in a deep breath and finally threw in the towel. “I want the implant.”
“Okay,” he said as if it were nothing.
And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was the logical choice I had been fighting all along.
“I’ve got some money in the bank, but it won’t last. I need this fight, Slate. My career is over, win or lose. Bum or champ, I don’t give a damn.”
“So, that’s it? You just want the cash?”
I shook my head. “No. I need it. I have no clue what the fuck I’m going to do after this. I don’t have an education or any great skill besides manual labor. I need this opportunity to set me up for a while. See what you can negotiate for pay. I’ll fight a dancing bear at this point as long as they put my name on a fat check.”
“What if we take a different approach?”
“Does your different approach allow me to hear my daughter when she’s born?”
“No. But it will give you a long-term solution.”
“Just spit it out,” I bit out as I began to lose my patience.
“We refuse to step in that ring unless he puts the title on the line.”
“He’ll never agree to that. He has too much to lose.”