Dean took another step closer, eyeing me as good as any old opponent would have done. “And don’t fucking try to change the subject. You keep saying that Dad’s death took the fight out of you. But I can’t believe it. Tell me the truth for once. I’m an adult—”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

“You clearly aren’t in mourning over Dad anymore,” he went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “So why won’t you go back to boxing?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Are you scared?”

I scoffed at his taunt. “Scared? Fuck you.”

He didn’t blink. “Scared that you will suck? That you’ll get your fat ass out there and someone will kick it?”

“The day I’m afraid of someone kicking my ass is the day I lay down and die.”

He sneered. “You’re already dead. You’re just walking around like an animated corpse. A fucking waste.”

I grabbed his collar and hauled him close. He didn’t resist. My voice came out in a snarl. “You should talk, you little shit—”

“Yeah, yeah.” The rage in his eyes was unavoidable. “Tell me another one. Won’t change the fact that you’re a fucking chicken—”

“Shut up!”

“No. Tell me why! Why, Rhys?” His words hammered into my skull, pushed against my chest. “Why won’t you go back? Huh? Why?”

“Because I can’t!” I shouted, my voice breaking. My body sagged. “I can’t … Jake. He … I …”

Dean’s face became a blur, and I let him go, thrusting him away and turning my back on him. Chest heaving, I tried to draw in a breath, looking for that calm, dead place that I lived in now.

Behind me, Dean uttered a soft curse. When he talked, his voice was small and hesitant. “It’s because of Jake?”

Bracing my hands low on my hips to hide their shaking, I blinked up at the ceiling. “I saw him die.” I swallowed convulsively. “I knew it was going to happen. The second he took that hit … I knew it was over. The light went out of his eyes. And I knew.”

I could still see it. Nausea surged up my gut, and I swallowed again.

Dean appeared at my side. I hadn’t heard him move. “That was shitty of me, pushing you. I’m … I’m sorry, Rhys.”

I knew he was apologizing for Jake too. A sound of wry amusement mixed with ugly pain left me, sharp and loud. “Yeah, well, it’s what we do.”

He didn’t smile but moved a bit closer. I felt the brush of his arm against mine, and I swear to God, I wanted to run out of the room. I was too close to breaking. I took a few deep breaths, refusing to move away.

“I can’t get in that ring again,” I said in a low, tight voice.