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I’m up and grabbing my purse within a second. If he needs me, I’m going to be there for him. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
He grunts a response, and I hang up the phone as I rush to my car. As I’m pulling out of my parking lot, I think about calling him back just to make sure he’s not hurt or something like that. I don’t know what could’ve put him in such a pissy mood.
Resolving that I’m going to be seeing him face to face in a few minutes anyway, I don’t call him back, but I do drive over the speed limit trying to get to him. When I pull up in front of his large house, I park behind his Range Rover and basically run to the front door. It’s only when I hit the doorbell and wait for him to come answer it that I look down at what I’m wearing.
I’ve got on a pair of lounge pants and a tank top. I was already ready to go to sleep for the night when I called him. If I weren’t so anxious to get to him, I would’ve taken some time to properly get dressed.
The overhead light pops on, and I hear the locks turning on the door. It’s too late to worry about what I’m wearing now.
I brace myself for whatever it is I’m about to see, but when Reese opens the door, my stomach drops. I wasn’t prepared to see that he was truly hurt.
“Oh my God! What happened?” I step inside, and my hands are on his bruised face before he even has a chance to close the door behind me.
“It’s nothing. Not as bad as it looks,” he replies, but the scowl on his face doesn’t change.
“Nothing my ass, Reese? Who did this to you?” I move to the side so he can close the door.
“My brother,” he replies.
My jaw drops, and I’m stuck speechless for a minute. I know they had a bit of a strained relationship, but I didn’t think it was this bad.
“Your brother? Why would he do something like this?”
“It’s a long story.” Reese turns and walks away from me.
I follow behind him. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what’s going on.” I grab hold of his arm and turn him back in my direction. He huffs out a sigh but doesn’t bother to look at me.
His muscles are all bunched up, and his jaw is twitching. My eyes focus on a cut on his lip. It’s small and red, but I know it’ll swell if we don’t get some ice on it. “You need to get some ice.”
“I will,” he grits out.
“I’ll get it.” Walking by him, I make my way to the kitchen and pull out one of his ice trays.
“I said I’d do it,” he says as he follows behind me.
“Well, I’m already doing it.” My hands move double time as I crack the tray, letting the ice fall onto the counter. I grab a small plastic bag from the side cabinet and put the ice inside of it to create an ice pack.
“Haven, I’m not a child. You don’t need to take care of me.” His voice is tight, and I know he’s on the edge of his patience.
“Stop it,” I reply, still not focused on his face but on the ice pack, I’m trying to get together for him. Finally, I wrap a paper towel around it to stop the ice from freezing his skin and go to press it on his lip. Before I can, he snatches it out of my hand and throws it hard against the wall.
“Fucking hell, Haven. Are you listening to me! I’m not one of the kids at the community center. I don’t need to be babied. Stop trying to fucking fix me!” he screams at me.
All the blood drains from my face as I finally focus on the enraged man in front of me. Reese has never raised his voice to me, so to see him in such an angry state really shocks me. But the shock only lasts a second. I may not be used to him screaming at me, but I’m no stranger to people lashing out at me.
I’m a social worker, and I know most of the time, people don’t just fly off the handle for no reason. Something more is going on with Reese, and I’m not going to back down until I find out what it is.
“Reese, I never thought I’d ever have to say this to you, but I will. You will never yell at me like that again. You’re pissed. I don’t know why you’re pissed, and it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, but I’m not going to be your verbal punching bag.” I pull my shoulders back and look him straight in the eye.
“There’s no reason for me to go into it. I’m a fighter. I get hit. This,” he gestures up to his face, “is nothing compared to what I get in the ring.”
“But you weren’t in the ring, Reese. You said your brother did this. Why?” I ask, keeping my voice calm, to make sure I don’t escalate the situation.
Reese groans and runs his hands through his hair, “Because he doesn’t fucking understand. He has expectations. They all do. Everyone only sees the outside, and they have expectations on what I’m supposed to be doing, and I’m fucking tired!” He’s still yelling, but he’s not yelling at me. This is a release.
“I’m tired of all the damn pressure. Tired of trying to force myself into being what everyone expects me to be. I’m not perfect. I fuck up, constantly, but it feels like no one can ever look past the fact that I’m supposed to be the best. I’m tired of trying to please everyone.” His shoulders and head drop forward, and when he talks again, the words are tortured. “I feel like I have to put on a show for everyone, and I just want to get out. I haven’t been able to breathe since I won that belt. Being the world champ is all I am. What the hell happens when I’m not that anymore?”
His eyes slowly come up to mine, and it kills me to see the pain lingering in his gaze. I still don’t know exactly what him and his brother fought about, but right now, all that matters is what Reese is going through.
