My eyes went wide. “Eliza!” I called out, but there was no way she could hear me over the crowd.
I love you. I’m okay, she signed as one of the officers started to guide her away.
“Eliza!” I yelled as I traced the ropes down the side of the ring to follow her. I was vaguely aware of the ref pushing me back to my corner, but all I could see was the blood painting her face.
Slate moved in front of me as she disappeared around the corner. “One round.”
“Why is she bleeding? What the fuck is going on?” I shoved his chest.
“She’s fine. Get your ass in that corner. Three minutes. Then you are out of here.”
I studied his eyes. “Swear to me she’s okay? Swear it!” I barked, backing into my corner.
“She’ll be fine. Now, hurry this the fuck up. You have one round to secure your entire future. There are millions on the other side that bell. Claim them.” He pointed across the ring as he folded out. “Silence him.”
That I could do.
With a deep breath, I called up every bit of strength I had left. I drew from Eliza and the images of the life we were going to have together. The future I could provide not just Blakely, but also Flint and Quarry. I could win this for them.
The fight had been somewhat one-sided until that point—and not my side. It was obvious that Matthews wasn’t the same fighter I’d easily knocked out all those years ago. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t the same Till Page either.
Sixty seconds later, with the same combination I’d knocked him out with the first time, I made my own dreams come true. Rick Matthews stumbled back against the ropes before collapsing to the mat. The combination wasn’t anything special or unique to boxing, but it was conceived from a desperate need for me to get to Eliza’s side. And for that alone, it was unstoppable. I counted around my mouthpiece as the ref issued a ten-count, but I could have told you at three that the fight was over.
When the ref waved his hands to call the fight, the crowd went nuts. The vibrations from the cheering fans were unforgettable, but it was the sight of thousands of fans twisting their open hands in sign language applause that choked me up. I lifted a glove in appreciation to the fans on all four sides of the ring, but that was my only celebration.
“Let’s go!” I barked at Slate as he started pulling my gloves off. For a man who had just won his very first championship belt, my corner was entirely too subdued.
“Wait,” he signed back. “Let them lift your glove and we’re out of here, okay? There’s a car waiting out back.”
“A car? Where is she?” I asked as the opposing trainer came over to offer a handshake and the customary congratulations. But I wasn’t having it. I stepped around him and got into Slate’s face. “Where the fuck is she?” I growled.
His hands lifted to respond, but he dropped them and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? What the fuck is going on?” My stomach dropped.
I searched his face for answers, but he had them all stoically hidden away. Fuck having my glove lifted in the air. If there was a car out back headed for Eliza, I was getting in it.
I shoved him out of the way and climbed out of the ring, not even bothering with the steps as I jumped off the skirting and made my way through the crowd. People were slapping my back as I rushed from the ring, and it wasn’t until I slammed the back door open that I realized Leo and Slate had followed me.
Slate yanked the door open to a blacked-out Escalade, and I crawled inside. No sooner than the door was shut, I yelled, “Start fucking talking. Now!”
“Eliza’s fine. So is the baby.”
I blew out a relieved breath, but he continued.
“She’s at the hospital with Flint.”
My head snapped back in surprise. “Flint?”
“I’m afraid so, son. He’s the one who found her. Frankie put up a fight, and Flint was shot in the scuffle.”
“Flint?” I barely squeezed out as my chest took the painful blow of his words. “Is he okay?”
“He was shot in the back, but according to Johnson, he was talking as the paramedics wheeled him out.”
“In the back?” I whispered.
Leo said something and my eyes flashed to Slate for the translation. With a quick swipe of his hands, pride—and guilt—consumed me.
“He was protecting Eliza.”
“TILL!” I CRIED AS SOON AS he shoved the door to my hospital room open.
His hands were still taped from the fight and he was only wearing his trunks and an On The Ropes T-shirt, but it was the anger in his eyes that looked the most out of place. His whole face softened as soon as he saw me.
He rushed to the bed and wrapped me in his strong arms. I had been mildly holding it together up until that moment, but I lost it as I buried my face in Till’s neck.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Eliza.”
As he lifted me off the bed, the wires dangling from my stomach all snapped off. I clung to him anyway.