We were face-to-face now, yelling at each other with increasing volume.

Dean took another step closer, eyeing me as good as any old opponent would have done. “And don’t fucking try to change the subject. You keep saying that Dad’s death took the fight out of you. But I can’t believe it. Tell me the truth for once. I’m an adult—”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

“You clearly aren’t in mourning over Dad anymore,” he went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “So why won’t you go back to boxing?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Are you scared?”

I scoffed at his taunt. “Scared? Fuck you.”

He didn’t blink. “Scared that you will suck? That you’ll get your fat ass out there and someone will kick it?”

“The day I’m afraid of someone kicking my ass is the day I lay down and die.”

He sneered. “You’re already dead. You’re just walking around like an animated corpse. A fucking waste.”

I grabbed his collar and hauled him close. He didn’t resist. My voice came out in a snarl. “You should talk, you little shit—”

“Yeah, yeah.” The rage in his eyes was unavoidable. “Tell me another one. Won’t change the fact that you’re a fucking chicken—”

“Shut up!”

“No. Tell me why! Why, Rhys?” His words hammered into my skull, pushed against my chest. “Why won’t you go back? Huh? Why?”

“Because I can’t!” I shouted, my voice breaking. My body sagged. “I can’t … Jake. He … I …”

Dean’s face became a blur, and I let him go, thrusting him away and turning my back on him. Chest heaving, I tried to draw in a breath, looking for that calm, dead place that I lived in now.

Behind me, Dean uttered a soft curse. When he talked, his voice was small and hesitant. “It’s because of Jake?”

Bracing my hands low on my hips to hide their shaking, I blinked up at the ceiling. “I saw him die.” I swallowed convulsively. “I knew it was going to happen. The second he took that hit … I knew it was over. The light went out of his eyes. And I knew.”

I could still see it. Nausea surged up my gut, and I swallowed again.

Dean appeared at my side. I hadn’t heard him move. “That was shitty of me, pushing you. I’m … I’m sorry, Rhys.”

I knew he was apologizing for Jake too. A sound of wry amusement mixed with ugly pain left me, sharp and loud. “Yeah, well, it’s what we do.”

He didn’t smile but moved a bit closer. I felt the brush of his arm against mine, and I swear to God, I wanted to run out of the room. I was too close to breaking. I took a few deep breaths, refusing to move away.

“I can’t get in that ring again,” I said in a low, tight voice.

“I get it,” he said softly.

I nodded, and we both fell silent. After a minute, Dean stirred, clearing his throat. “I used to love coming here. Back when you were training.”

I stayed as still as I could, just breathing.

He kept talking, tentative, reaching for a truce. “It was great. And you’re right. It could be great again.”

“I’m working on that,” I bit out, the words costing me. Talking meant acknowledging that I was there. When I wanted to be any place but.

“I know you are. It’s a good plan.” He glanced over at me, regret painted on every line of his face. He’d never truly understand that I never wanted him to feel regret. I never wanted regret to be his burden.

“I’ll help you, Rhys.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. It took everything in me to hold onto the fragile thread of calm I’d gained back. “All right.”

He nodded, looking pleased. “Any tips you need for handling Parker?”

A rusty laugh broke free. “You think I need help with women? That’s cute.”

He rolled his eyes. “I meant more along the lines of hanging out with her geeky friends and coworkers.”

An evil grin spread as I remembered peppering those gossipy little asshats with paint bullets. That smug weasel Pete had actually squealed. So satisfying. “I got that covered.”

“What did you do?” Dean asked with growing amusement.

“Nothing.” Showed them just what they faced if they messed with my girl.

She isn’t your girl, idiot.

My smile fell, and I rolled my shoulders. “I act like myself and they pretty much run in fear. It works.”

“Yeah, I bet it does,” he said dryly. “But what about when you eventually meet people she actually likes?”

Hell.

“I’ll let you know.”

He eyeballed me for a long moment, then shook his head. “We’ll work on your manners later.”

“Asshole.”

His grin was quick and a bit forced. Couldn’t blame him for that. Mine was too. But then he damn near killed me when he reached in and gave me a quick half hug, slapping me on the shoulder as he let me go.

“You stink,” he said, covering the awkward moment. “Go shower.”

He left me before I could get another word in. I was grateful as hell.

The gym fell silent, stinking of sweat and mold. I closed my eyes tight and then shook it off, striding out of the room. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I stared down at my text messages, my hand shaking. I couldn’t stop it.

I couldn’t stop myself from texting either.

RhysThis: Hey, Tink. What you up to?

Seconds later, my knees felt weak with relief when little dots formed at the bottom of the screen as she typed in her answer.

AngryTink: Who is this?

A smile pulled at my lips, my chest already feeling lighter.

RhysThis: Rhys. The great and powerful.

AngryTink: I thought that was The Wizard of Oz.

Chuckling, I took the stairs to my loft.

RhysThis: Close enough. You’re no longer in Kansas, little girl.

AngryTink: I’m going to ignore the little-girl part. Because it reeks of misogyny.

My steps grew lighter, faster, the smile spreading over me like a wave. I could breathe again.

RhysThis: I thought you were going to ignore it?

AngryTink: Anyway … Why are you texting?

Because I need you. I need your sass. I need you …

I tried to shake the thought away. It was a weakness I couldn’t afford. But the thought remained. I needed her.

Shit.

AngryTink: Rhys? You there? Or did you run off the road on that mildly enjoyable bike of yours? Please don’t tell me you’re texting and driving! That’s illegal, you know.

Huffing out a laugh, I answered.

RhysThis: You enjoy my bike, huh?

A pause, and then she replied.

AngryTink: A little. Just a little. And you didn’t answer.

RhysThis: Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m at home.

AngryTink: Sweetheart?

She sent an eye-roll emoji and then: What’s up? Is there something you need?

You. Here. Please.

Shit, I had to get out of this. I didn’t know what to say.

AngryTink: Actually, it’s good you texted. I need you.

For a hot second, the bottom dropped out of my stomach. She needs me. My heart rate kicked up like I’d just gone ten brutal rounds with a top opponent. She needs me. I was about to smile, about to text her back with something like: Thank Christ. What took you so long?