Page 43 of Boxer Next Door

She pursed her lips. “Do you want to be here? When we have this talk?”

“I think the question is whether you do?” I pointed out. “If I’m going to be here anyway, might as well stick around. If we provide a united front, it might throw him off his game just a little.”

I was trying to get her to accept it because I didn’t want to leave, not even to get fresh clothes. Besides, if he walked in and caught me in yesterday’s outfit, he might clue into the fact that I’d stayed over. After yesterday’s exchange, I wanted to use anything I could to get on his nerves.

After some deliberation, Lydia nodded. “All right,” she said, looking up at me with eyes full of determination, with just a hint of fear. “I would like for you to stay, Ken.”

I shot her a smirk. “Of course, Lydia. It’ll be my pleasure.”

She probably caught the vindictive note in my words, because she snorted and rolled her eyes at me.

Minutes later, we were walking down the stairs, both fully dressed and ready for the confrontation. Like he’d been waiting for the right cue, the bell rang once we made it to the foyer, and Lydia went to open the door while I hung back but kept a close eye.

“Hello, Mike,” she said coolly.

“Lydia,” he returned calmly.

She stepped out of the way so he could come in, and he froze, seeing me standing there. His eyes flitted between the two of us, before narrowing on me.

“What is the kid doing here?”

I bristled at his words, and his tone.

“Watch it, old man,” I snapped back. “I’m not a kid.”

“Acting so hot-headed, what else could you be?” he sneered. “If you want to have some fun like yesterday, boy, let me tell you right now it’ll go very differently. You caught me by surprise before.”

I snorted. “I don’t believe you.”

It might have been a while since I was in a real boxing match, but whatever fight this man could bring, I was confident I’d beat him. I wasn’t going to let anyone bother Lydia, not even her ex-husband, whatever rights he had with his kid.

Still, he looked pretty confident himself, and going by his size, he could at least inflict damage. Thankfully, Lydia stopped anything before it could start.

“I didn’t invite you here for a fight, Mike,” she said, voice firm. “You will say what you came here to say, and that’s it. All right?”

The two of us glared at each other a bit longer, then he scoffed and turned his back on us. He headed for the kitchen, and we followed. He sat down at the dining table, where I’d been sitting every time Lydia had me over for dinner. The little move, whether he knew what he was doing or not, annoyed the fuck out of me. Instead, I sat by Lydia, in Bryson’s usual seat.

“Now, talk,” Lydia commanded.

Mike folded his forearms on the table and completely ignored me as his eyes stared intently at Lydia.

“First of all, you need to understand that I had a good reason for leaving.” Lydia snorted at that, but he went on. “It was a job I got called for one day, not one I could easily refuse. I didn’t want to leave, Lydia. I had to.”

She frowned, arms crossed over her chest, looking doubtful. “I didn’t hear anything about this job you’re talking about, Mike.”

“Of course not. Because I couldn’t tell you about it. If it wasn’t so important, do you think I would have left my family for anything less?”

I frowned at this guy, wondering what angle he was trying to pull here. No one would just dump their family for years because of some job, one they couldn’t talk about. His eyes shot to me, and he scowled.

“You’re probably thinking it was something bad if it exists at all, but it wasn’t. Everything I did was perfectly legal.”

“That is to say if this job even existed in the first place,” Lydia interjected. “You can't even talk about this job, yet you want me to believe you? Pull the other leg, Mike. Where have you been?”

“It’s not a lie,” he said calmly. His eyes were back on her, the intensity in them enough to have me worried. “If you’re not going to believe me, then fine. I didn’t tell you anything, but Bryson knew. He knew that I’d left and that I would be coming back. He didn’t know where, but we had this signal. I’m glad to see you kept it.”

He pointed with his chin, and Lydia and I both turned. It was that blurry photo I’d noticed the first time I was there. That picture of the mountain.

“That…” Lydia whispered hoarsely.