The Hardest Hit (15 page)

Tension mounted in Trevor's forearms. He hung on the ropes watching as Domenic boxed a few rounds with Jack Brady. He knew he should be in the ring with Domenic, battling it out. But, the paperwork filed with the commission barred him from crossing the ropes.

And, he wasn't the kind of guy to break the rules, not in this case. Not only because of his health, but if a member of the commission popped in for a surprise inspection and found him in the ring, Stamina gym would pay the price. Daniella, Shakes, Jack and all the people at Stamina had done too much for him to find themselves in trouble with the commission over a nobody like him.

So, instead of sparring, he paced around the sides of the ring, monitoring Domenic's footwork, and watching his right hand.

“Don't slip, don't slip,” he called out to Domenic. “When Jack steps back, don't instantly drop your right hand. Keep it in position.”

His young mentee did as instructed. Clearly Domenic was outmatched. Jack was the heavyweight world champion and had a hundred pounds on the guy. But that wasn't the point. Trevor had asked Jack to get in the ring because he was one of the most intimidating fighters on record, and when Domenic got nervous, he tended to drop his form.

Jack and Domenic exchanged punches. The kid remembered to throw from his shoulder, and when Jack boxed him into a corner, he pivoted, threw the over-under and got himself out. Trevor couldn't have done better himself. “Nice job,” Trevor called out.

After two minutes in, he called time. “Ready for a break?”

The two fighters broke apart, and Domenic retreated into his corner.

He placed a stool under the kid's butt and the young fighter dropped down onto it, nearly breathless.

“Shit,” Domenic said, once Trevor removed his mouthpiece.

Trevor knelt down in front of Domenic. “Damn, right,” he responded. “Jack Brady is no joke.”

Sweat beaded on Domenic's skin. The tired fighter drew in one deep breath after another. “I thought you were kidding when you asked me if I was ready to fight a champion. I had no idea I'd face Brady today.”

A smile broadened Trevor's face. “Yeah, some things you're better off not knowing until they happen, but I knew you could hang with him. Granted, he's going easy on you, but you get a chance to step in the ring with a guy like Jack, well, what else could a boxer in training ask for?” He tapped the kid playfully on his forearm. “Keep up the good work.”

Domenic smiled.

Trevor leaned forward to give Domenic additional instructions without Jack hearing. “Jack's a good guy to work on your power shots with. The guy's a bull; he can take whatever you dish out. So, when you go back in there, practice your jab and right hook. Work his body, and go hard.”

The kid nodded and opened his mouth wide. Trevor slid the mouthpiece between his teeth. With two pats to his shoulder, Domenic knew his time had come to jump back into the ring, and he didn't hesitate. Trevor loved how the kid simply relished in getting some one-on-one time with a champion. Asking Jack to spar had been a good call.

Seeing him in the ring filled Trevor with hope, too. Jack was the poster boy for change. Not only did he have plans to retire after Daniella gave birth, but the man had done a three-sixty turnaround since she took him back. Over the years Jack had changed immensely. There would be life after boxing for Trevor, too. The only difference between he and Jack was that he didn't have a woman to share his future.

After a beat the timer rang out. Jack and Domenic sparred for another round. Domenic worked Jack's body hard. He landed a nice right cross, and followed it up with a left hook, missing Jack's chin by an inch. Sure, the champion was going soft on the kid, trying his best to help build his confidence.

“Close,” Trevor called out. “Keep swinging, Domenic, dig deep.”

Strong self-assurance worked to build the best boxers. Fights could be won or lost before the boxers stepped into the ring if their head wasn't right. They needed not only to know they could beat their opponent, but they had to believe it with everything they had.

When it came down to it, that's what upset him the most about Chelsea was that she hadn't had the confidence to tell him about his condition and know that he could separate Chelsea the doctor from Chelsea his girlfriend. An ache rolled through his heart.

Why had she not been the one to tell him? He might never know the answer. Did she think he would always look at her as the woman who ended his boxing career? Did she really believe he would've let something like boxing come between what he'd found with her? After weeks of being alone and replaying their breakup in his mind, he still couldn't come to terms with what she'd done.

He pushed all thoughts of the beautiful blonde away as Shakes moved up beside him.

“How's life on the sidelines?” the old man asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Trevor's stomach stirred. “It's okay, I guess.”

“You should be in there.”

Trevor nodded. Together, he and Shakes observed Jack and Domenic trading punches. After a few moments, Shakes leaned over to him. “Watch his footwork. He puts too much pressure on the back foot, not allowing him to pivot when he needs to. If he stays light, and dances on the balls of his feet, Domenic can work the side step if he starts feeling trapped.”

“Thanks,” Trevor said.

“You're good at this,” Shakes said.

Trevor felt his eyebrows hike up his forehead. “You really think so?”

Shakes nodded. “I think you've got a real knack for bringing out natural talent. As a trainer, you have to observe the boxer as a machine, making sure all the parts work together. You've got that kind of eye.”

Warmth filled Trevor's chest. He never expected those words coming from Shakes. Not that Shakes didn't pay him compliments—he did, but his kind words were always about his boxing style, his punches, or his footwork, not about his ability to see past the mechanics to the art of the sport.

The energy in the room between the two men shifted. A sense of awkwardness filled Trevor. Standing next to Shakes, he shifted his weight. “I, uh, just wanted you to know that I'm not taking your job or anything. I could never be as good of a trainer as you or Daniella.”

The old man glared at him. “How dare you say such a thing?”

Trevor's heart rate kicked up. He felt his brow furrow.

“I think you'd make an excellent trainer. Look around, kid. Enrollment at Stamina has shot up. Every guy who wants to fight hopes to be the next Jack Brady, or Michael Perez. This place is in need of a few good trainers.”

A smile bloomed on Trevor's face. “Do you think Daniella is ready to add to the staff?”

The old man's bottom lip jutted out, and he grunted. “The only way to know, my friend, is to ask.”

After Domenic and Jack's sparring ended, Trevor allowed his mentee to head home early. Jack had granted the kid a few pictures after the match ended and, knowing Domenic, he couldn't wait to show everyone he knew. The young boxer left the gym with a skip in his step and a giant smile plastered on his face.

Trevor's heart lifted. Today had been one of the few times when he'd felt good since his breakup. Watching Domenic climb into his car, he allowed his eyes to travel across the street and land on the clinic's front door. Chelsea's car sat in the lot. He knew she was there. About this time every day she triaged patients, pushing herself as hard as she could go to see as many of the sick as she could before her day ended.

He supposed she hadn't changed. She hadn't altered her routine or her reasoning for not telling him about his condition. As much as he'd love to walk across the street and see her again, he couldn't. There was no place for him in her life. He knew that now.

Peeling his gaze from the building, he turned and made his way toward Daniella's office. He peeked through her window. She was on the phone. No problem. He'd wait. She must've spied him outside her door, because after her call ended, she waved him inside.

He pushed the door open and ducked his head into her office. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” she said, moving a pile of paperwork from one side of her desk to the other, “what's up?”

“I just had a conversation with Shakes,” he said, moving into her office and taking a chair across from her desk.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Oh sure, sure. He, uh, well, he said you might be entertaining the idea of bringing on some new trainers.”

Daniella's face brightened. “Well, we have seen a significant spike in boxers wanting to fight for us. Did you have someone in mind?”

His heart thudded in his chest. Normally he would've just blurted out his own name but something weighed on him. What if she said no? If Daniella declined his offer to become a trainer, he didn't know what he'd do. If he couldn't box, and couldn't coach, would he find himself back at The Gentlemen's Club forever?

His mouth dropped open but no sound came out.

“Cat got your tongue?” she prodded.

“Uh, well, uh . . .”

She rocked back in her chair and waited.

“I was thinking that maybe I could—”

Her eyebrows pulled together. “You?”

“Yeah, spending time with Domenic has taught me that I have other skills besides what I can do inside the ring. And, if an opening becomes available on the training staff, I'd like you to consider me.”

Daniella didn't move. In fact, his trainer didn't react at all. Sometimes the woman scared the shit out of him.

“Not so fast,” she said. “I don't think we should give up on your boxing career just yet. You're a helluva fighter, Trevor, and I don't want you to throw your dreams of professional boxing away just yet.”

He frowned. “Why? What's going on?”

Panic stirred inside him. Was she teasing him with the hope of him getting back into the ring to spare his feelings that he'd make a lousy trainer? No. That didn't sound like her. Daniella had always been a straight shooter.

“I wrote a letter back to the boxing commission asking for a reevaluation of your case. What Chelsea did, which actually helped you, was pass your case off multiple times, first to Dr. Evans, then to Dr. Foster.”

His eyes narrowed. He wasn't sure he was following.

“What that did was give me the opportunity to argue that because you had seen Dr. Foster only once, she acted hastily in making the determination to end your career. Most of your other doctors, Chelsea included, believed that your health would improve if given enough time. Dr. Foster did not allow you that time before she cut your career off at the knees.”

Wow. He had not expected this. He always thought of Jack as the fighter, but Daniella was taking on the Nevada Boxing Commission for him. Holy shit.

He let out a long breath, one he didn't realize he'd been holding. “I don't know what to say.”

Daniella smiled. “Then don't say anything. Because there's more.”

A chuckled emitted from his throat. “More? I'm not sure I can handle any more.”

“Well, buckle up, because here it comes.”

Trevor leaned forward in his seat.

“After I sent the letter, the commission responded favorably to my request.”

White noise pounded in his ears. “Really?”

“Yes, your reevaluation with Dr. Foster is scheduled in four weeks.”

“Yes!” He raised one arm just like winners did in the ring.

Daniella lifted a hand, tamping down his excitement. “Don't go crazy. There's a downside.”

He lowered his hand, and his shoulders slumped.

“You're still barred from boxing until the reevaluation. So, as much as you'd like to get back into the ring, your status as not being able to participate in the sport stands.”

“What does this do to my fight against Dion Nash?” he asked.

“Nash's people want to fight,” she said. “Do you think Domenic is ready?”

Her words hit him, hard and deep. “So Nash's people want a fight, and they don't care who with.”

She lifted a shoulder. “It's nothing against you, Trevor. Boxing has turned into a commodity sport. If Nash can't fight you, he'll fight whoever he can get. Stamina still needs the money, and we signed a contract.”

“So, if it's not me, it's Domenic.” A sense of heaviness pressed down on him. “I understand.”

Of course he understood. Nobody wanted him. They never did. Nash's people didn't want to fight him per se. Daniella didn't want him on the training staff. Chelsea didn't want him at all.

How could his day turn from shiny to shitty just like that? It was the story of his life. Everyone wanted him until they didn't.

“But here's what I really wanted to talk to you about.” His trainer's face grew serious. “I want to know if you're up for wearing two hats around here?”

He cocked his head to the side as she continued, “Boxer and trainer; what do you say?”

His stomach rolled. “You want me to train like a boxer, but also serve on the training staff?”

Daniella nodded. “I know I'm asking a lot. Usually I don't want my fighters doing anything else but concentrating on boxing. But, since you've worked at the club, you're conditioned to holding down two jobs and, from what I've heard, you do well at both.”

He lifted his hand and rubbed his chin. “How's that going to work?”

“You're barred from fighting and stepping in a ring, but I'm certain the paperwork doesn't prohibit you from continuing the training plan you were cleared for. When you're not training, I'd like you to keep working with Domenic. The kid's ready. You know it. I know it. Shakes evaluated you this morning and gave you two thumbs up. You're a born trainer. You have a gift, and a good eye.”

Heat flushed his face. Trevor had no idea he was being studied by Shakes. “I have a confession to make,” he said. “I was afraid Shakes was going to be angry with me for overstepping my bounds. Training is your job and his, not mine. I had no idea he was sizing me up, and watching me to see if I'd fit in as a trainer.”

Her bottom lip protruded. “Don't sweat it. If we thought you were doing something wrong, we would've stepped in. Shakes liked what he saw. And, I've seen how you've gotten Domenic ready to fight so quickly. You've always done right by us, Trevor. You're family.”

“Thanks.” He lowered his gaze to his lap. He didn't want her to see the tears that threatened to spill. Yes. He really did have a family. For so long he'd attached himself to the girls at The Gentlemen's Club, but he'd learned in a short time they weren't real family. They hadn't cared when his chips were down. Those girls didn't have a clue what family meant. Tragedy had taught him his real family consisted of everyone who made up the Stamina gym.

While certain parts of his life were coming together, he couldn't forget about the giant hole gaping in his chest, the part of him where his feelings for Chelsea used to reside.

He went to stand up, thinking their conversation was over.

Daniella glared at him and said, “Sit back down.”

He sat.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, and leaned forward. “Now we have to discuss something more important than boxing and training.”

Trevor stilled. A twinge of panic gripped his stomach. He didn't like the sound of this. Something in her tone worried him. “Something wrong?”

She closed her eyes and gave a decisive nod. Then she opened her eyes and focused on him. “I can help you with almost anything, but I'm thinking that something's going on with you that is out of my control.”

He wet his lips, but said nothing.

“What's going on with you and Chelsea? I haven't seen her around the gym lately.”

Her question caused him to stir in his seat. Then, he let out a long exhale. “She and I. Well”—how could he say it?—“we broke up.”

“I thought as much. Care to tell me why? You don't have to, but like I said, I can't help you if you don't tell me.”

Part of him didn't want her help. Chelsea had lied to him and that was that. But, the part of him, deep down, the achy, raw part, couldn't hold back from telling his trainer everything. So, he did.

Daniella sat back in her chair as she listened. He spilled everything, telling Daniella what Chelsea knew but hadn't told him. His heart broke reliving the betrayal.

“Do you think you'd ever be able to forgive her?” Daniella asked. Her frankness was one of the things he liked best about her. She never pulled punches.

“I don't know. She didn't care about me.”

Daniella's brow furrowed. “Quite the contrary, Trevor. I know Chelsea. She did care about you and that's why she couldn't tell you what she knew.”

“I don't understand.” His mind absorbed Daniella's words. He could tell instantly that his trainer was using her background as a psychologist. As far as he was concerned, all psychobabble was too little too late. But as his trainer he would hear her out, and give her views the respect they deserved.

“Let's put the shoe on the other foot for a second. Let's say you we're in a position of power over Chelsea; you sat on the Nevada Medical Board, for example. And, let's pretend you knew she was going to lose her license and there was nothing in your power you could do to prevent it.”

He followed along. He wasn't buying a damn word, but he followed.

“Let's say you told her, and you were the one who gave her the heads up on some career-ending news. Do you think that over time she'd hold that against you? Do you think that she'd associate you with the day she received a life-changing blow?” Her eyebrows hiked up. “It's possible, right?”

He lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I suppose.”

“I know you didn't ask, but Chelsea and I have been friends a long time. I think that's where she was coming from.” Daniella rested her hand on her belly.

“I appreciate your perspective. But it doesn't change the fact that she lied. Do you know how many times in my life I've been lied to?”

His trainer shook her head.

“Thousands,” he told her flatly. “Every kid in foster care grew up being lied to. Oh, well, if you were just a better behaved kid, they would've wanted you. Or, maybe if your grades improve someone will adopt you. No one wants a loser.” He passed a hand over his forehead. “The fact is simple: When you grow up like I did, everyone lies, and I couldn't trust anybody.”

Daniella leaned forward. “Then you met Chelsea—”

“And everything changed,” he finished her sentence.

“You fell in love and she was the one you thought would never lie to you,” Daniella said.

“Until she did.” He scrubbed his hand along his jawline. “Thank you for offering to help. I know how much you liked Chelsea and I together, but it'll never work. I'm certain of it.”

He stood up, and left Daniella's office before she could see him shed a tear.