Full Contact (Worth the Fight #2) - Sidney Halston Page 0,65
would be leaving. Things were changing, and it all seemed out of his control. With a last look in the window at Jessica, he went straight over to the Academy. Fighting had always been a constant in his life, the thing that had always managed to take the edge off, but that was gone now. It had been months since his last fight—the fight that had completely screwed him up. According to the doctors, one more concussion and he was likely done for, a vegetable. As it was, his hands shook slightly from time to time and his memory had gone to shit. Early signs of dementia—that’s what the doctors had called it. But, the doctors had also said that those symptoms could reverse over time.
He still missed fighting. He’d started boxing at sixteen years old with Jack, which had led to backyard MMA fights. And now, at thirty-three, he’d been fighting more than half his life. He loved the adrenaline rush that came with it, and the intensity of training. He was looking forward to being instrumental to the next generation of fighters by training them, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t long to be up there in the cage himself.
Fighting had been his entire life for so long that the only reason he hadn’t fallen into a real depression after being told he couldn’t fight anymore was the time he’d spent helping Jessica recover. But now that she had recovered—and kicked him to the curb—his mind needed something to fill the huge void. He knew the Academy would eventually keep him busy and fulfilled, but until the remodeling was finished and he could actually take on a full slate of training, he had to do something. To make a shitty situation even shittier, with the Academy in its current state, he couldn’t even use it to work out his aggression. Until the renovations were finished, the gym was limited and just plain uncomfortable. A few punching bags hung by boxes of lighting fixtures that needed to be installed. The free weights were full of dust from the construction. His haven was in a state of chaos. And then there was Jessica. He couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind.
He decided to go for a long, mind-numbing run. He popped his earbuds in, slid a beanie on his head to keep his hair from sticking to his face, cranked up the music, and hit the pavement. An hour later, when he finished running, the empty void that sat in the pit of his stomach was still there.
He spent the rest of his day literally hammering out his stress, working on the renovations at the Academy for the next six hours until his muscles shook and his hands cramped from gripping the hammer for so long.
“Hey. You know we have a crew coming later this week to finish that up, right?”
Slade wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before looking up at Francesca.
“Frances, hey. Yeah, I know. Just needed to blow off some steam. I didn’t see you come in.”
She was standing amid a mass of boxed equipment, dust, and power tools, wearing a tight light blue dress, a jacket, and super high heels. She grabbed an empty white bucket, flipped it over, and sat down, crossing her long legs. “You were so in your head, I didn’t want to bother you. I’ve been in the office for the last hour. You okay?”
“Aren’t you hot in that jacket?”
“It’s a blazer.”
“I don’t even know what that means, but whatever it is, aren’t you hot?”
Francesca laughed. “Yeah, I am. But it’s professional-looking.”
Slade looked around the empty room. “Who you tryin’ to look professional for?”
Francesca disregarded his question. “So? Are you?”
“Am I what?” He lifted the bottom of his white tank top and wiped his forehead again.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He stood and began to put away his tools.
“Not big on talking ’bout your emotions, I see.”
“You shouldn’t come here dressed like that, Frances. You can get hurt. There are nails all over the place and it’s dusty. You’ll break an ankle with those shoes.”
“Deflecting, I see.” Then she mumbled in Portuguese, “Homens!”
“I’m not deflecting. I just don’t have a problem. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Really?” She smiled. “Have a good night, Slade.” She sauntered off after giving him a quick wink, and as she left he heard her mutter, “Pedaça de merda!”