Page 42 of Knockout Queen

A knock sounds on Johnny’s door. Magnum gets up to answer it. He opens it only a sliver of the way. Words are exchanged that we can’t quite hear until Mag shuts the door. “Your dad is waiting for you, J.”

Johnny peeks at me, but before he can say anything, Brawler pipes up. “I was hoping Kyla could come with me somewhere...um, private. Special.” He blows out a breath. “I go see my sister’s grave on Christmas, and I’d like her to come.”

Again, my stomach twists with the knowledge of all the pain my guys have been through. We need a lot of happy times to make up for the past.

“Oh yeah, sure. Of course,” Johnny says quickly. “It’s been ages since I’ve been out to Manning’s grave. I should probably head out there sometime soon.” Brawler doesn’t say anything in response, so Johnny gets to his feet gingerly. “You may as well come with Mag and I, Bat. I’m sure Dad will want you involved in some of this stuff.”

Oscar stands, and I stand with him. I wrap my arms around him firmly, holding him close. There’s an odd weight on my right hand where the ring sits, but it’s a nice feeling. “Later we’ll have more cookies,” I whisper.

He nods into me, placing a small kiss on the curve of my neck. I wish I’d gotten them something. All of them. Otherwise, I don’t know how else to express how much what they do means to me. I press up onto my tiptoes and lean back to get a good look at Oscar. His dark eyes shine back at me. I can’t help but get lost in the tragedy of them. There’s so much underneath the surface that sometimes I don’t think I’ve even grazed the top of what makes Oscar tick.

I press my mouth to his, inhaling him in. His scent. His persona. With the kiss, I tell him I don’t care what he got me for Christmas. He should know it isn’t material things that matter. It’s this. Losing my parents taught me that. You can replace things like rings and cookie jars, but you can’t replace people. I would never want to replace these guys. Never.

Tearing myself away from Oscar is hard, but I’m also sure the other guys are waiting their turn, so I step away. Johnny gives my hand a quick squeeze. He doesn’t seem the least bit affected with the ring thing anymore. He’s beaming. Magnum dips his head low as he walks to the door. The three of them file out, leaving just Brawler and me.

A small smile filters over my face. “I cannot freaking wait to use those wraps. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

“You get us something each and every day,” he responds, coming up to me to place his large hands at the small of my back. “Hope.”

I swallow and lay my head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart calms me.

“Now,” he says. “I also brought your phone, so let’s call your aunt and uncle first, and then we’ll go to the cemetery.”

He slips the nondescript phone from his pocket and hands it to me. It feels like ages since I’ve spoken to them. Or it’s just that so many things have happened, making it seem like a lot of time has passed when in reality it hasn’t. The screen lights up, and I go to Contacts and press my aunt’s name.

She answers right away. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” I say back, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t even have to fight any of the cheer filling me up. In fact, I have to fight back some sadness from not being around them.

This is what my relationship with them is supposed to be like. Not guardian-ward, but aunt and niece. For so long, something was missing. The kind of love that comes from an immediate family. That comes from having people who will love you unconditionally. I never wanted to feel like I just showed up in their life and made myself an obligation.

I’m no longer their obligation, and I love it.

“God, I miss you guys,” I say, allowing the thick emotion to creep up my throat.

My aunt is silent for a moment until she says, “Me too, Joey. Me too. Does that mean you’ll come visit soon?”

“Hopefully, soon,” I say. I obviously can’t promise anything like that because there’s a lot to do between then and now. Soon might turn into a long time, but for the first time in forever, I hope it doesn’t. “Are you having a dinner later?”

“You know us,” she says, clearly enjoying her day. Dishes rattle in the background like she’s getting out her special holiday plates. “Everyone’s been asking about you. Do you have friends to spend the day with? I’ve been freaking out that you’re all alone.”

“I have friends,” I say, unable to keep the smile that’s currently pulling my lips apart out of my voice.

“Ohhh,” my aunt says. “That sounds like it has something to do with a boy. For God’s sake, be careful. My sister would turn over in her grave if she found out you were—”

I laugh immediately. “I’m fine. I promise. Mom won’t be turning over in her grave anytime soon, and yes, it’s about a boy...s.” I slur the S, tacking it on at the last moment. I definitely don’t want to have the polyamorous relationship conversation with my aunt over the phone. I have no prior knowledge, but I’m pretty sure that’s a conversation to have face-to-face.

She tells me all about my uncle’s new vegetable garden in the backyard. Then, she runs down the list of everyone who is coming over for dinner and the gossip going around their gated estate community. Back in the day, I could’ve purchased anything I wanted for the guys. I actually still could do the same thing, but there will be plenty of time to use that money on useless things as soon as we leave the Heights together.

We talk for a while. At least a half hour. My uncle also gets on the phone briefly, asking me all the same questions my aunt just pestered me with, but I’m not even annoyed when I go through it again for a second time. When I realize how long we’ve been talking, I tell them I need to go. Brawler wants to get to the cemetery, and I can’t blame him. I’d be doing the same if I were closer to where my parents are buried.

“Hey,” I say, right before I get off the phone. “Next time you go to the graves, make sure you tell them I say hi.”

My aunt takes a second to answer. “I do it every time, Joey, you know that. Plus, you can tell them whenever you want.”

“I know.” That’s not the first time my aunt has said those words to me. It’s not even the hundredth. Those words have pushed past her lips countless times. And they’re true, too.

“Merry Christmas,” I say again.

---