Page 32 of On the Edge

“You don’t trust me?” I faced her.

“I don’t trust what fighting does to you.”

I didn’t want her to be right. Not this time. “Two months, Ma. In two months, I’ll put my fists down and never raise them again. You have my word.”

“Until the next time?” She crossed her arms. “I’m sorry, Adam. If you do this, you don’t have my support. I can’t give it to you. I can’t be a part of it. I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”

With that, she left the room. All I could do was stare, fixated, at the book on the table until the word Anna became a blur before my eyes.

* * *

I hadn’t been to the office until now. I’d been dodging calls from my family and Les. I wasn’t prepared to tell Les about the deal I’d made with Donovan.

I’d been training at my gym around the clock for the first few days, and then I hit up a few of the boxing gyms in the city and sparred with some of the guys. A few of them recognized me. Some of them had already heard I’d be fighting Saturday.

I had released some of my frustration on my sparring partners without going overboard. It was therapeutic. At the same time, it was strange to feel my fists once again connect with hard flesh. Not strange—frightening. I liked it too much.

By Friday afternoon, however, I had done all I could do. And I still had a job to do. I had a meeting I couldn’t back out of and so now I was sitting behind my desk, staring at my bruised knuckles. I hadn’t worn gloves to protect my hands when I’d all but torn up my speed bag with my fists last night.

Stupid.

“Hey, stranger,” Ethan said.

I hadn’t even heard my door open. Next time, I would lock it. “What’s up?” I leaned back in my chair and shifted my hands to my lap. Both my brothers were now standing in front of my desk.

Ethan was one of my younger siblings, and he rarely made an appearance at the office. He was still finishing up his MBA at Trinity College. If he was here, it meant one thing. Ma had talked.

Sean slumped in the chair in front of my desk and scratched his chin. “Is it true?”

Why was he even asking? “Obviously, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t do it, man. Don’t walk down that road again.”

Ethan, the notorious party boy, was giving me advice?

“Did Ma tell you my side of the story? Or did she just send you here to try and talk me down?”

Ethan came around next to me. He pressed a palm to the desk and narrowed his green eyes at me. “Les got himself into the mess—you don’t need to be the one to get him out.”

Sean blew out a breath. “You can’t do this,” he said.

I wasn’t sure whom to focus on—Sean or Ethan? They were hitting me from both directions, but it wouldn’t work. Les was almost as much of a brother to me as they were, and I’d go in the ring for them. Why couldn’t they understand I needed to do it for Les?

Of course, if they knew about Anna, they’d probably want me to go to the police. They didn’t grasp how dangerous that was.

“I’m not having this conversation. I have a meeting in ten minutes if you don’t mind.” I shifted upright and reached for some papers on my desk.

“You’re going to get yourself hurt or worse.” Ethan turned his back to me. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you were in that ring?”

I pushed away from the desk, dropping the papers to the floor as my jaw clenched. I grabbed Ethan by the arm, spinning him to face me. My blood was heated, the anger spiraling through me. “Do you think there is one goddamn day I don’t think about it? That I don’t feckin’ remember?” Breathing hard, I followed Ethan’s stare down to where my hand was gripping the material of his sleeve. I hadn’t even realized what I’d done. Bloody hell. I released my grip and raked my hands down my face, ready to claw at my skin.

“You’re already your old self again, aren’t you? Sure as hell didn’t take long.” My hands fell back to my sides at Sean’s words, hearing the disgust in his voice. Was he right? Was I him again?

Ethan lowered his head, shaking it a little at me, which made me feel like the scum on the bottom of some damn shoe. They didn’t bother to say anything else. They didn’t fight like I would have. No, they left me alone to sink back into my seat, to press my hands back over my face.

My mind tackled memories as they scratched their way up, but I shoved them in some dark corner of my mind, suppressing them. I couldn’t think about my past if I was going to step into that ring tomorrow. I had a fight to win.

A knock at my door had me jerking my head up.

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