Outmatched

“How did you meet?”

Right there. That was my limit on evasion. “Funny thing …” I took a deep breath and started to tell Marcy the whole story. Her eyes got bigger as I explained.

“You’re going to lose the gym?”

“Either that or I have to sell it. Neither option appeals to me.”

“But … how? You’re so responsible with everything.”

I looked away. From the other room came the puffs and clangs of Rose’s video game. I could see a slice of the couch and her small legs swinging back and forth as she played. She moved like a kid who hadn’t a care in the world. But I knew she suffered nightmares now and then. She’d scream out for her daddy, even though she’d only been two when he died. When Marcy told me that, it just about killed me.

I rubbed my chest again. “My dad. He …” I forced myself to meet her worried gaze. “You know he liked to gamble.”

Understanding dawned. “Oh God. Rhys. It was when he gambled on Jake, wasn’t it?”

She might as well have kicked me in the chest. I flinched, the air rushing out of me. “You knew about that?”

I felt sick. Pushing my empty plate back, I rested my face in my hands and tried to breathe.

Her gentle voice broke through the darkness. “Your dad visited me before he died. He confessed what he’d done and apologized.”

“Fuck.” I rubbed my aching jaw and looked up. “I’m sorry, Marse. I didn’t want you to deal with that.”

“But why?” She looked genuinely confused. “It wasn’t your mistake.”

“Jake was my friend. My dad took advantage of him. I don’t …” I blew out a harsh breath. “It feels like my mistake too.”

Suddenly, Marcy was at my side, wrapping her slim arm around me. “No, Rhys. No, it wasn’t.”

“I should have seen how bad Dad was getting.”

“He was your dad,” Marcy insisted. “You weren’t responsible for him.”

I grabbed her hands and held them in mine. “Marcy, you don’t understand. Jake, he knew Dad had bet on him that night. He knew that Dad had everything riding on him.” My vision blurred, and I blinked hard. “He knew, and I think it distracted him.”

Marcy blew out a breath and rested her forehead on mine. “Rhys. It was a bad hit. It could have happened to anyone. Please,” she whispered. “Please, for me. Don’t put this on yourself. Let it go.”

After all she’d been through, I couldn’t deny her anything. But letting it go wasn’t easy. My guilt wanted to remain sitting on my shoulders. It had been years, and the burden had become a beast of its own. Marcy wanted me free of it. Dean wanted me free. Parker wanted me free. I could do that for them, for myself.

I closed my eyes and felt it melt away. Lightness expanded in my chest and lifted my shoulders. I squeezed Marcy’s hand, so damn grateful that I had people like her in my life. Not for the first time, I wished Parker were here to meet her. I had a feeling they’d become fast friends.

We sat like that for a while until she eased away and met my gaze. “If you need money …”

I lurched back. “No, absolutely not.”

Her mouth firmed. “I have some left from the life insurance.”

“No!” I stood and paced, trying to calm my voice. “No, Marcy. I appreciate the offer, but I’m never taking money from you. And I don’t need it.” When she started to protest, I told her the rest of the story, including the fight and the sponsors that had come from it. “That’s why I came here,” I said. “To let you know that I was boxing again. To … I don’t know …”

I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling foolish.

“To get my permission?” she asked with a small smile. “You know you don’t need that.”

“It just felt wrong, doing this, getting back into the ring without talking to you. I don’t have Jake anymore. You’re like his representative or something.”

She laughed lightly. “You’re kind of adorable, Rhys Morgan.”

I shot her a glare, but she only smiled wider.

“You are. You care so much, with your whole heart.” Marcy hugged me. I stood there, wooden and unable to move. But she didn’t seem to mind. She only hugged me tighter. “You give everything to protect the people you love. But you have no idea how to protect this, do you?” She pressed her hand to my thudding heart.

I could only stare down at her and shake my head dully.

Marcy searched my face. “What’s really bothering you about this, Rhys?”

“I’m afraid.” The words tore out of me without permission. I winced, humiliated at the truth.

“Afraid of what?” she asked softly.

My mouth just kept spewing. “Afraid of getting hit like Jake, leaving Dean behind, and now Parker …” I bit my lip to shut myself up and turned my head away from Marcy’s knowing gaze. Boxers weren’t supposed to fear. It was an anathema to the sport.