Выбрать главу

“I know this is none of my business, but is she having trouble at school?”

Linda was lost in a daze, watching Madeline. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

It was as if Linda was just living in another world, completely lost in her thoughts. What was she thinking about? Was she trying to teach Madeline self-defense because her father had been attacked in a bar? It would make sense, but would Linda be all right with me teaching her daughter self-defense when I was the man who had murdered her husband?

I was getting nauseated, but I ignored it, needing to get this conversation over with. Repeating myself, I asked, “Is Madeline being picked on at school?”

“What? No. Why would you ask that?”

“Oh, I just…The way you asked about self-defense, I thought that maybe she was going through something right now.”

“Just taking precautionary measures.”

Precautionary measures. Linda was trying to protect Madeline from people like me. Little did she know, she should stay as far away from me as possible.

“Do you think Madeline would be able to join the class? It’s very important to me that she learns to defend herself at a young age. I want her growing up to be a strong, confident woman.”

“Yup,” I said, swallowing bile. “We can get her into today’s class if you’re interested in starting right away.”

I was talking, but I really wasn’t understanding what I was offering. Was I really accepting Madeline into one of my classes?

“That would be great. What time does it begin?”

I looked at my watch. “Half an hour.”

“Perfect. I brought her gear. I can go get her changed and then we’ll be back.”

“Sounds good,” I replied. “Make sure you get a free water bottle up front.”

“Thanks. Can I sit and watch?”

“Yup, that’s why we have the bleachers. You can join in as well if you would like.”

“I’ll think about it,” Linda said a little shyly. “Come on, Madeline. We have to get you ready for class.”

“Awesome!” Madeline called while fist-pumping the air. She skidded across the floor, grabbed her bag, and headed out of the room with her mom.

“See you in a few,” Linda called out.

“Yeah, see you in a few, Mr. Kace,” Madeline said, waving and walking away with her mom.

The minute the door closed, I locked it and ran to the trashcan, where I threw up all my past sins and regrets.

How the fuck was I going to get through today without losing my shit?

***

My heart hammered in my chest, sweat dripped down my back, and my throat was clogged with emotion, a fucking unyielding feeling that was making it hard to breathe.

Watching Madeline prance around the Haze Room, wearing boxing gloves entirely too big for her noodle arms, smiling and waving at her mom after every punch she made to the bag, caused me to be physically nauseous.

I didn’t know why I felt so ill. I should have been happy she was a well-rounded little girl with a heart of fucking gold and a smile that made me want to give her the world.

But all I felt was the sick need to bury myself in a case of Maker’s and wash away the smiling image of Madeline Duncan.

I could feel myself drowning, gasping for air, wondering when the burning ache in my chest would cease to exist.

This pain I was feeling, I’d brought upon myself. I couldn’t get over God’s sick plan to bring Linda and Madeline into my life.

“Looking good over here,” Jett said as he clasped my shoulder. “You got them working hard.”

It was a small class of five people. Linda decided to join in and they were all working on their jabs right now while I tried to calm my racing heart.

“Yeah,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

Madeline threw her little arms at the bag with horrible form, and I knew I had to correct her so she didn’t hurt herself, but my feet were cemented in place, permitting me from moving forward.

“You all right?” Jett asked, knowing me too well.

“No,” I answered honestly. “I’m not fucking all right.”

Jett leaned closer. “Want to talk outside?”

“Can’t. Teaching a class.”

“Are you really? Because it looks like you’re standing here in absolute—”

“Madeline, stay on your own bag,” Linda called, interrupting Jett. Madeline was running around punching all the bags in the area, causing a fucking adorable ruckus.

Jett swung his gaze to where Madeline and Linda were, assessed the mother-daughter pair, then turned his back on them and got in my face. “Is that…”

I confirmed his suspicions, not letting him finish.

Jett ran his hand over his face and muttered, “Holy shit. What are they doing here?”

“Linda wants Madeline to learn self-defense. She thinks it’s important. Given the way her father died, I don’t blame Linda for forcing her daughter into the class.”

“And you said you were going to help? What the hell were you thinking?”

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, can’t help you since I’m the one who killed your husband.’ I didn’t have many options, Jett.”

“I guess you didn’t,” he said, turning to look at Madeline. She was leaning against a wall, wiping her forehead with her forearm and catching her breath. “She’s kind of adorable.”

“I fucking know,” I admitted. “What do I do?”

I was at a loss. I had no clue how to handle this situation. I needed a lifeline. I needed someone to tell me how to handle this, because right about now, I couldn’t breathe, let alone figure out how to talk to Madeline.

“Do the right thing,” Jett answered. “Swallow your demons, step up, and teach the girl. What happened in your past was not your fault, but you have a responsibility now to see it through.”

Jett was right. I had a responsibility, and it was to take care of Madeline. If that meant pushing past the bile that rose from the mere thought of forming a bond with this little girl, then I would.

“You’re right,” I said while pushing past Jett and heading over to Madeline, who was still leaning against the wall with her arms at her sides and her head pressed back.

“Hey,” I said while squatting down to her level.

“Hi there, Mr. Kace,” Madeline said, perking up. “These gloves are heavy.”

“Well, they’re the wrong size. I told you they wouldn’t work for you.” She’d insisted on wearing them.

“I just wanted to wear the ones you were wearing when you demonstrated. You looked so tough.”

A numbing tingle started to crawl up my back. I can do this, I repeated over and over in my head.

“To get tough, you have to start from the beginning. How about we take off the gloves and put on the little hand-wraps instead,” I suggested. “Then we can work up to the gloves.”

“Those gloves are black.” She crinkled her nose. “Don’t you have pretty ones?”

I looked over at the hand-wraps and shook my head no. “Sorry, kiddo. I only have black ones right now, but I will see what I can do for you for future classes. How does that sound?”

“All right.” She flashed me that toothless grin, melting me on the spot.

For that smile, I would have given her the fucking world.

We walked over to the gloves. She was like a shadow I couldn’t shake ever since my fist had connected with her father, and right now, that shadow was stronger than ever.

I pulled out the smallest hand-wraps we had and bent down. She placed her hand on my shoulder. With a serious look, she held out her other hand and said, “I’m glad you’re here teaching me, Mr. Kace. I like you.” She paused for a second and then continued talking when I helped her put the hand-wraps on. “I don’t have a dad, but if I did, I would want him to be like you.”

Sweat broke out on my skin, self-loathing started to eclipse my thoughts, and pain erupted from the backs of my eyes as I tamped down the tears that wanted to flow.