Page 181 of Finding Hope

Before I’m ready to let him go, before I’m ready to say goodbye, the camera pans to the screaming spectators and the flying banners.

I don’t want to see them! I want to see Jack.

“Ladies and gentleman! At four minutes and thirteen seconds of the second round…”The crowd roar as the referee fastens the belt around Jack’s sweaty hips.“…declaring your winner…”Jumping, Jon throws his fist into the air the way the fifth grade boys do at school when they win a game of kickball.“…Knockout by Teeeee-Kayyyyy-Ohhhh…”Bobby pulls Aiden in for a body crushing hug.“…and nowwwww… for the seventh time… the newwww heavyweight champion of the world… Jack ‘The Jackhammer’ Reilly!”

The fight footage cuts out as soon as the referee lifts Jack’s hand into the air, leaving a frozen image of Jack’s intense eyes staring straight into the camera.

My phone switches to ads and breaks the spell that has me holding my breath. The air rushes from my expanded chest as I sway in the cool night air.

“Well, shit, Steph.” Dazed, in shock, emotional, my breath comes fast and furious as though it was me that just fought the world title.

My phone dings, dozens and dozens of texts flood in from just about every person I’ve ever met.

They’re all a variation of‘He won!’

Giddy, nervous, my stomach swirls. I want to spew, I want to dance. I want to hug him.

I don’t answer my texts, I simply close my eyes and thrill in the feel of my heart beating for Jack and his success.

My phone dings again, but with a different ringtone. Snatching it up on an excited squeak, I open the chat box and swallow my tears at the sight of a name I haven’t seen in a week.

Jack:I won.

Sighing, I reply:I know. Congratulations. x

39

JACK

FINDING VICTORY

Bambie:I know. Congratulations. x

I stroke a finger across the screen of my phone – the proxy for the girl I wish I was touching – and ignore the chaos raging around me. With my left arm laid out on the exam table and the doctor casting it up, my brothers and sisters stand to the side as my nieces and nephews run around the cramped room like they own the place.

I love them, I love them to fucking bits, but some peace and quiet right now would be good.

“Turn your arm over.”

I nod softly, but the gentle movement sends my brain rattling around inside my skull. I don’t look up at my doctor, I just stare at my screen.‘I know. Congratulations.’

She knows, so she was watching.

“Fractured again, though not as bad as the original break. It’s weak, son, and it always will be.”

Aiden’s nose almost touches my arm during his inspection. “Will he be able to keep fighting?”

Nodding, he works in his little med bag and pulls out torture devices. “Yeah. He’ll be off for a couple months, cast, physio oughtta get it back most of the way. But you need to be careful. It’s only a matter of time before you can’t use it anymore. Next time you break it, we’ll be pinning it and you’ll be off for the better part of a year.”

“A year?” Aiden balks. “That’s a long ass time, doc.”

“It sure is, so you better be careful.”

Somehow, somewhere along the way, our group of badass fighters turned into a bunch of pussies.

I’m positive Bobby started our downward spiral into sissyhood years ago after he won his third or fourth title,afterhe met and married my sister. His way of celebrating was not with girls and partying and booze, but as a family with ice-cream and milkshakes and all the sugary snacks we could possibly consume.

I was sixteen – and I had a belly full of dessert. You wouldn’t hear me complaining.

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