Page 10 of After the Knockout
“You care?” He cut his eyes at me, and I blew out a deep breath. I’d seen too much of his blood for it to ever be nothing again.
“Yeah, I do,” I replied, taking another step forward. He didn’t argue. He didn’t look at me. He just reached into his pocket, grabbed a nail, and handed it to me. Our hands brushed for a quick second, and I could feel the last five years collapse between us. Then his face tightened, and he looked at me like he hated me again.
“Hold it steady,” he muttered, and I tightened my grip on the board. He drove the first nail in harder than necessary and then another. Neither of us said anything, just kept moving.
“All done.” I could barely get words out before another window burst somewhere behind us, and glass flew everywhere as the wind screamed through the building.
“Upstairs,” he said finally. “Now!”
“What about the rest?—”
“I’ll reinforce what I can,” he cut in. “Go get the kid somewhere safe.” He didn’t look at me when he said it. He looked at Dae-Dae, who had peeked his head around the corner. I knew he was the only reason he was giving me grace. I grabbed my son and ran for the stairs. Halfway up, I looked back. He was already boarding another window, rain hitting his back, shoulders flexing under the wet shirt.
“Go!” he called to us, and we started up the stairs again. Dae-Dae’s arms looped around my neck as I climbed the stairs, one flight at a time. My legs burned like I’d been running for hours. I’d climbed these stairs multiple times in the past, back when coming to see him practice was the best part of my day.
When we finally reached the upper level, the space opened onto the training floor. The boxing ring was still there. Same place. Same ropes. My eyes scanned the room as I placed Dae-Dae on his feet. Weight benches still lined the far wall where theheavy bags hung from the ceiling. It looked different from what I remembered. It was cleaner, more organized. But it was still the same place. The same training facility where I used to cheer him on. Where he’d grin at me between weights, and I’d giggle. My chest tightened as I walked deeper into the space. Pictures were hanging along the wall now. Fight posters. Polaroids of him with raised belts and trophies, all serving as proof that he survived.
My eyes landed on one picture longer than the rest. It was of him lying in a hospital bed. He was bruised and hooked to machines. Something twisted in my stomach. I’d quietly followed the ambulance that night and stood behind a wall in the hospital hallway long enough to hear a doctor say he would live.
“Windows are reinforced. Back door is chained.” KO’s voice came from behind me, breaking me from my thoughts. KO came up the stairs and moved past me without saying a word. He reached for a small weather radio sitting on a shelf and flipped it on. Static filled the room. Then the alert tone started screaming.
“Roads are impassable . . . Emergency services have pulled back . . . Shelters at capacity . . . Move to higher ground . . . Do not attempt travel . . .”
KO turned it off like he couldn’t stand hearing somebody else confirm what he already knew. He looked at his phone again, then at me. The room went quiet except for the wind rattling the boards downstairs. He checked his phone again, jaw tight, then looked at me.
“Looks like we stuck here.” His voice was flat.
“Looks like it,” I said quietly. The silence that followed stretched too long as KO made his way over to a locker that sat in the corner. He pulled the wet shirt he had on over his head. I shifted my weight and glanced around the room, pretending to take in the space again, anything that didn’t remind me whose building this was, whose life I’d walked out of. I could feel himwatching me, but not the way he used to. This was different. My eyes caught his, and for a second, my brain forgot how to think.
The Lord knew I shouldn’t have been looking at him the way I was, but KO’s body had never been something a woman could just glance at and forget. He was built like a fighter, six pack and muscles everywhere, and the tattoos across his chest only made him look more dangerously delicious. My eyes dragged over him before I could stop myself. Every memory of him rushed back all at once, and all I could see was his hands on my waist, his mouth on mine, the way he used to pull me into his chest like I belonged there.
Then my gaze caught the scar on the left side of his chest just above his heart—a reminder right there on his skin of the night I almost got him killed. My hand moved before my mind could catch up. My fingers brushed the edge of it, and KO froze. The air between us tightened. Then his eyes dropped to my hand.
“Don’t. I got every reason to hate you.” He stared at my soaked shirt. The thin fabric was doing nothing to hide my hard nipples, and the look in his eyes made heat spread between my thighs. “You might wanna tell your wet pussy that.” I pulled my hand back like I’d touched a hot stove, and shame hit me for more reasons than one. “Dry off,” he said, tossing me two dry towels and two T-shirts. His gaze slid past me, scanning the room, the stairwell, the corners of the gym. Like he was counting exits or people. I caught the shirts against my chest just as Dae-Dae wandered off toward the boxing ring.
“Dae-Dae, come here for a second,” I called, and he shuffled over, distracted, his eyes still bouncing all around the gym while I peeled the soaked poncho over his head.
“Y’all traveling alone?” KO asked. The question landed heavily. I knew he was checking to see if I’d brought trouble with me.
“Yes.”
“Kid’s father coming?” His eyes dropped to Dae-Dae. The words hit my chest so hard I felt it in my ribs. For a second, my brain didn’t work, because the answer was standing right in front of me.
“No,” I said quickly, and his eyes lingered on my face a second longer.
“Where y’all coming from?”
“Shoreline.” I pushed the damp curls off Dae-Dae’s forehead and dried his hair with the towel. “Fleeing the storm, I thought we’d get further, but the roads . . .”
“Six hours north.” He said it like he couldn’t believe I’d been so close all these years. “Hmph, six hours north. I was sure you’d left the country.”
“I didn’t,” I finally said. “I set up shop in the first place I stopped.”
“Must’ve been nice. Starting over that easy.” The hatred in his voice made my stomach twist, and the silence between us returned. I stood there, holding the dry clothes he’d given me. For a second, I didn’t know what to say. What was I supposed to say?
“Come on, baby,” I said softly to Dae-Dae, forcing my feet to move toward the bathroom near the back of the gym. “Let’s change real quick.”
Dae-Dae followed behind me, dragging his backpack until we made it inside. I shut the bathroom door and finally let out the breath I felt like I’d been holding since stepping foot in this building. My hands shook a little as I peeled Dae-Dae out of his damp clothes before tugging on the clean sweats and T-shirt I’d packed for him that morning. After that, I changed as fast as I could, pulling KO’s oversized shirt over my head and trying not to think too hard about the fact that it smelled like him. Of course, I’d made sure Dae-Dae had a change of clothes and hadcompletely forgotten about myself. A few minutes later, and we were stepping back out in dry clothes.
