Finding Reese (Underground Bruisers

Book 1) Rae B. Lake & E.C. Land

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 FINDING REESE
UNDERGROUND BRUISERS
BOOK 1
 E.C. LAND
RAE B. LAKE
 CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue

Up Next . . .
Also By E.C. Land & Rae B. Lake
FINDING R EESE

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are not to be
construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Finding Reese. Copyright © 2023 by Rae B. Lake & E.C. Land. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in
any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews.

Cover Design by Clarise Tan, CT Creations

Editing by Jackie Ziegler
Formatting by E.C. Land
Proofreading by Rebecca Vazquez
CHAPTER ONE
REESE
The bell rings, deeming me the winner of the match. Heavily breathing, I grin at the audience and let
the referee raise my arm. With this match, I get to keep my title as heavyweight champ.
Hyped from the fight, I head for the locker room, more than ready to shower, get cleaned up, and
go out to celebrate my win. Maybe find a girl or two to spend my night with. Being in the limelight, I
have women falling at my feet, constantly wanting a night to see if I’m just as good in bed as I am out
of it. And after not having sex for a few days, I could definitely use the relief. It’s a thing with me that
goes back to before I became a professional boxer. My buddy Travis and his dad always said, ‘No
sex the day of weigh-in or the match itself.’ I’ve stuck to it, and now I’m ready to let loose.
I shower and let the water hit my body with its warm spray. I enjoy the feel of it and could stay
here longer, but I can’t. Shutting the water off, I grab a towel and dry off while heading to my bag that
has my clothes. My thoughts are on what I’ve got to do now that I’ve won. I still have to meet with the
press before I can head out.
Growing up, we didn’t have much. My mom raised me, my brother, and my little sister alone. If
not for Bright’s Boxing Gym, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I don’t take for granted what I’ve been
given the chance to do. Boxing isn’t just a sport to me. It’s who I am. It’s something I always mention
when asked by the press, though I leave out the part about my mom being a single mother. Our dad
took off when we were kids, and my brother, Rhett, and I took on the role of being there for our little
sister, Reyna. Not easy but still we did it.
I find if I give the media a small bit to appease their curiosity, they’ll leave my family out of the
public eye. I like my privacy, and this way, I get it at least marginally.
An hour later, I finished speaking to the reporters and answering questions, and I’m relieved to be
able to leave. As I head to my dark green Range Rover, I hear my name being called and groan,
recognizing who it is.
Ezra.
One of the promoters, whom everyone knows is nothing more than a slimeball. He’s been known
to cause problems for people, and I’ve done everything I could to keep him away from me.
“What can I do for you, Ezra?” I ask, spinning to face him.
“I wanted to speak to you about your upcoming match.”
“What about it?” I quirk a brow and wait to find out what he’s going to say.
“You’re fighting Niko in three months,” he starts, and I nod in agreement. “He’s going for your
title, and I’m willing to pay for you to lose the match to him.”
I stare at Ezra for a long moment in silence, his suggestion reeling in my head. “You can’t be
serious,” I scoff, my lip curling at one edge. “There’s no way I’m giving into a fight and just handing
over my title to someone. Way I see it, if he wants it, he’ll have to work for it.”
“Dyer, you need to think about this . . . I’m willing to pay you more than you’ll make in a year to
lose this next match.”
“Not going to happen,” I say, stepping forward and getting in his face. My nostrils flare as my
temper rises. I do my best to keep my anger in check sometimes. I don’t like losing my shit—ever. Its
why Mom signed us up at the gym for lessons and whatnot. To help my brother but mostly me with my
anger issues. I do pretty well with it, but there are moments—like now—that I find it harder.
 “You don’t take the deal, we’ll have issues, Dyer. I’ll make life a hell of a lot harder for you than
it has to be,” Ezra warns.
“I’m not giving in to your demands, Ezra,” I grind out. “If Niko wants my title, then he can fight
me fair and square for it.”
I turn to leave but stop when Ezra calls my name again. I give him a side look, warning him to
back off.
“Last chance, Dyer. I’d hate for something to hit the news about your brother and how he’s been
arrested recently.” He smirks. “Even better, I’d hate for something to happen to that pretty little sister
of yours or even your mother. For her age, she’s a look—”
He doesn’t get to finish his threats as I turn fully to him and slam my fist in the side of Ezra’s face,
connecting with his nose with enough force to cause him to stagger backward several steps. I snarl,
“Stay the fuck away from my family.” The very fact he would even attempt to bring my family into his
ploy is enough to send me over the edge. You don’t go after my family without me fucking you up.
Ezra’s lucky I only punched him instead of doing what I wanted to and beating the shit out of him.
I spin away from him and stalk the rest of the way to my Range Rover, throw my bag in the
backseat and slam the door shut. Without looking back, I hop in the driver’s seat and head to my loft I
keep here in Vegas. It’s not as nice as my home back in Colorado, but it works for me, considering
I’m not home much, and when I am, I’m sleeping or fucking. Though it’s a rare occasion for me to
have a woman at my place. I always go to theirs or a hotel.
Hell, thanks to Ezra, my night is ruined, and I’m not thrilled about it in the least bit.

The buzzing at my door wakes me and I groan as I check the time. “Who the fuck would be here this
time of the morning?” I grumble, I climb out of bed grabbing a pair of loose sweatpants yanking them
over my legs and pulling them up enough to hang on my hips.
I make it to the door and run a hand over my face, tired, and wanting to go back to sleep. As I
open the door, I blink in surprise at the sight of two officers standing there. “Can I help you?” I ask.
“Reese Dyer?” one of the officers asks in return.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Can you please turn around and place your hands behind your back?” the second officer asks
politely, giving me an apologetic look.
“How about you tell me what this is about?”
“You’re being arrested for the assault of Ezra Mancini,” the first officer answers bluntly. “Now,
turn around, hands behind your back.”
Clenching my teeth together, I do as he suggests, though I don’t want to. This is total bullshit, and
we all know it. Or at least I know it.
Fucking Ezra set me up.
Slowly I do as the police want and allow them to escort me from my loft and out to the back of the
squad car. Needless to say, this is not the way I wanted to wake up, let alone start my day.

“Sir, we’re releasing you out on bond and will allow you to return to your home in Ashill Woods,
Colorado, under the circumstances that you will appear for your court date,” the magistrate says,
locking eyes with me. “You do know what will happen if you do not abide by the terms and
conditions of this request, correct?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I will appear for any and all appearances,” I agree with a nod. I’d been in a
cell nearly all day before someone was able to speak with me. Evidently, they have video footage of
me hitting Ezra, but there was no sound. I couldn’t fight against the video feed. I did, however,
explain what had been said prior to my hitting the dickhead.
“We’ll expect you to check in daily.” The magistrate gives me a long look that tells me he’s not
impressed by my actions, but the fact I have a clean record, they’ve decided to allow me to go under
recognizance that I’ll be back. Which I’ll make damn sure happens.
“I will, Your Honor. I appreciate you allowing me to return to my home in Ashill Woods, and I’m
willing to check in daily if that’s what it takes,” I inform the man who holds what will happen to me
in the next coming weeks in his hands. I don’t want to stay in a jail cell or anywhere in Vegas.
I mean, I would stay in my loft; however, I’ve asked to be allowed to go back home for the time
being. I don’t want to take the chance of reporters finding out and ending up not being able to step
outside the building without them getting in my face. At least if I’m in Colorado, they won’t be able to
do that since my home is gated, and no one can go in or out without the code. Meaning I can clear my
head while I wait without worrying about someone unwanted coming up on me.
Besides, my home in Colorado has more space than the loft. More space to be able to move
around and to hide from the world while I await what will happen next.
CHAPTER TWO
HAVEN
“I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Haven. Unfortunately, it’s not looking good.”
My insides tremble with every breath I take.
Don’t react. I can’t react.
Working at Ashill Woods Community Center is my dream job, and now Luke is telling me that
there’s a good chance the program I’m in charge of is going to be canceled.
Not only does that mean I’ll be out of a job, but the dozen or so children that desperately need this
program won’t have anywhere to go. How can he not see how vital this is to the community?
“Luke, there’s got to be a way. I mean, have we tried the sponsors? Other members of the
community? Churches?” My palms are sweaty as I squeeze my hands together in my lap. I’m trying my
hardest to keep my emotions in control, but being told to find new employment after only a few
months of work can be an emotional trigger for most people.
“Haven, there’s just no excitement about the program. Honestly, did you really expect there would
be? You’re not talking about helping the kids with the perfect grade point average or the kids with
exceptional talents, your program is geared toward the problem children. Most of them don’t actually
want to be here, and the adults don’t think they deserve to be sponsored.”
My mouth snaps shut, and I grind my teeth until the pain in my jaw slingshots up to my temple. Did
he really just say that to me?
“Are you telling me that because they’ve made mistakes in life, those kids don’t deserve to better
themselves? Because they are labeled deviants, society should just toss them to the wayside? Is that
the message that you want to be associated with Ashill Woods Community Center?”
Luke huffs out a breath and falls back against his leather office chair. “Now, wait a minute, that’s
not what I said.” He raises his hands and tilts his head as he squints at me.
“Then what are you saying? Because from where I’m sitting, those problem kids are the ones that
need the most support.” With a calming breath, I shift forward in my seat and lean my forearms on his
desk. “Look, you and I both know all the statistics for children on a bad path. If someone or something
doesn’t help them get off that path, they’ll stay there forever. The children we work with today in here
are on an express train straight to jail or death. We can help them here, Luke. We can get them off this
path, all we need is a little help.”
Luke opens his mouth as if he’s going to talk but shuts it at the last second. He picks up a pen and
repeatedly clicks the top of it. If the future of the program wasn’t in his hands, I would tell him just
how annoying that was.
“Haven, I hear you, and truly I want to help, but I’ve got bosses too. I don’t know how long I’m
going to be able to hold them off. If you can’t get some interest from both the children and the
community in this program, it’ll be canceled. We’ll just have to find another way to reach those kids.”
It’s not exactly what I want to hear, but at least it’s a chance.
“Thank you! I’ll figure out a way to get more support. Just give me a little time. I’ll get it done.” I
stand and offer my hand to him to shake, moving quickly before he can change his mind.
“You know, you should’ve been a lawyer or something.” Luke laughs and leans back farther in his
chair.
With a shrug, I shake off his suggestion. “Nah, I can’t stand liars.”
 I wish him well one final time before I walk out of his office with a small sense of victory. The
Ashill Woods Community Center is a small place, but I know in my heart it can do a world of good. If
there were places like this where I grew up, I wouldn’t have to send birthday cards to one of my best
friends in prison. Adam was a good kid. He and I did everything together from kindergarten all the
way through to tenth grade. Then his father passed away, and he fell into the wrong crowd. No one
stopped him. No one reached out to see what they could do to help. Within a year, a judge was
handing him a life sentence for his part in an armed robbery gone bad.
At the time, I was just as young as Adam, and there wasn’t much that I could do besides tell him
that he was on the wrong path. It’s because of him and my past that I decided to get into social work,
and it’s why I feel like I can really help the kids here at the community center.
I don’t want another kid to fall through the cracks. At least not while I’m around.
I have a small office toward the back of the community center. I need to finish unpacking, but
there’s been so much to do that I never do. The office may be tiny, but at least there is enough space
for me to put in a small couch.
One of the few memories I have from any time I’ve visited a social worker was how
uncomfortable those wooden seats are. If someone is going to open up about their problems, it’s
always best they have someplace comfortable to sit.
After I lock up the case files I have and put on my flats, I pull out my keys to get ready to walk
home. Yet another plus about working here is the proximity of my house.
“Throw your hands up then! I’m not scared of you!”
Fear seizes my gut as I step out into the parking lot and see two of the kids from my program
squaring up in front of each other. The last thing we need right now is for there to be a fight and
someone gets hurt.
“Hey! What are you two doing?” I yell out before I start jogging in their direction.
Elliot and Benny.
With a groan, I step between the two of them, hoping that the situation isn’t so heated that they’ll
fight even with me standing here. I shift my glance between the two of them, waiting for someone to
tell me what’s going on.
Elliot, I’m surprised to see here, but Benny… Benny has issues with his anger. It’s something I’ve
been trying like hell to help him with.
“So, is someone going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, nothing,” the both of them reply. I turn my back on Benny and face Elliot.
“I didn’t hear nothing when I came outside. Now, tell me why you two were about to fight.” My
voice is firm but calm. I don’t want either of them feeling like they can’t come to me with problems
because they’re going to get in trouble.
“Miss, he waited out here for me. He told me earlier that he was going to kick my ass. I’m not
scared of him.” Elliot points over my shoulder, and I feel Benny shift closer to me.
“I wasn’t even thinking about you, but you’re right, I did say I was going to kick your ass. You
want to fight. Let’s fight,” Benny yells over me.
“Hey! No one is fighting anyone. Violence isn’t the answer.” Using a hand on each of their
shoulders, I push them back.
“It may not be the answer, but it sure does feel good,” Benny says with a smirk on his face.
“Weirdo,” Elliot mutters under his breath.
“I don’t care how good it feels. I’m not going to let either one of you fight each other.”
 “Fine, this is boring anyway.” Benny grabs his book bag and turns, walking out of the parking lot
while Elliot stands with me.
“Miss, I know you have to make sure we stay safe and all that, but sometimes people just need to
get beat up before they learn their lesson.” Elliot shrugs as if he’d just dropped a diamond gem of
advice on me before he picks up his bag and walks in the opposite direction of Benny.
My mind replays the conversation I had with Luke, mixed up with the words both Benny and
Elliot had just said to me. I’ve never been the type of person to condone violence, but just talking
wasn’t getting through to these kids. I need to find a better way to help them. They need an outlet for
all this adolescent aggression they’ve got inside them.
Fighting seems to be a sure-fire way to get most of their attention.
Pulling my purse to my front, I dig inside it and pull out my phone. Christina Bright was one of the
first people I met when I moved to Ashill Woods, and she’s always been helpful. Now, my hope is
she’d be willing to get her father to open up his boxing gym to these troubled youths. I’d much rather
them beat on a punching bag than each other.
CHAPTER THREE
REESE
Over the last week, I’ve all but driven myself mad with waiting for the courts to call and let me know
when to come back. I did as promised and called every day to check in. I thought about calling Kai, a
friend from back in the day. He lives in town still and is one of the best lawyers I know, but I’m not
ready to talk to anyone about what happened. It’s not my brightest moment. I shouldn’t have let Ezra
provoke me the way he did.
The way I see it, I got myself in this predicament, and I need to get myself out. There’s no way
around it.
Instead of taking a flight which would have been quicker, I drive myself back to Vegas and stay
the night in my loft. It looks as clean as it did before thanks to the cleaning service I use.
This morning, I’m to meet with a mediator according to the clerk I spoke with. I dress in a pair of
charcoal gray slacks that I always hate wearing. I think the last time I pulled them out was . . . fuck, I
can’t even remember. Probably my buddy Zane’s wedding.
Yeah, that’s it, and that was over a year ago.
I match a black button-down with the pants and leave the top two buttons undone. I hate feeling
like I’m being choked. I grab a pair of dress shoes and slip them on before grabbing my wallet and
keys. I run my hands through my hair once, making sure it’s not sticking up and head out the door.
It takes me thirty minutes to maneuver through morning traffic. By the time I get to the courthouse, I
barely have enough time to get inside, but I make it. At the sight of Ezra standing with his lawyer, I
have to keep myself from balling my hands into fist when I see the smug look on his face. I want
nothing more than to knock it right off, but if I do that, I won’t be able to come back from that, not
being in a courthouse.
“Mr. Dyer?”
I turn at my name being called to find a pudgy old man wearing glasses standing nearby. His
attention focused on me. “Yeah. That’s me.”
“Right then, I’m Mr. Williams, and I’ll be the mediator for this case. If you will all follow me.”
He motions for us to follow him.
Without saying a word or looking in Ezra’s direction, I follow Mr. Williams into a conference
room and sit where he indicates for me to do so. The doors are closed, sealing us in, and I clear my
throat, waiting for the old man to start speaking.
“We all know what we’re here for today, and I will be meditating the process,” Mr. Williams says
and looks in my direction. “Mr. Dyer, the defendant’s lawyer requested that we go this route to keep
from going directly in front of the judge. Do you agree with resolving this without going before the
judge?”
I take a moment to think of what he’s saying, and I kick myself for not talking to Kai or asking him
to come with me. I figured I could handle this on my own, now I’m not so sure, but regardless, I’m
going with it to get this shit over. “I agree to resolve this as quickly as possible.”
Mr. Williams nods and proceeds to explain how this will all work and looks to Ezra’s lawyer,
who slides a paper across the table to me.
“My client and I have spoken, and he’s willing to drop charges if you are willing to take this
deal,” the other man says firmly. “In addition, we’ll assure you this stays out of the media.”
 I pick up the paper on which he’s speaking and read over it. I want to ball it up and throw it in
their faces, but if I do that, this goes further. They want me to pay a quarter of a million to Ezra and in
return, all charges will be dropped. They’ll also keep this from going to the media.
Placing the paper on the table, I look from the mediator to Ezra’s lawyer, ignoring the other man
himself. “I do this, and nothing else will come of it? Your client will stay away from me?”
Ezra’s lawyer looks at him and gets a nod before they both return their attention to me. Ezra looks
smug and knows he’s got me.
“My client will indeed stay away from you so long as terms of the agreement are met,” Ezra’s
lawyer confirms.
I nod and think about it for a long moment before agreeing. “Fine, I’ll agree and will pay the
amount which he’s asking for so long as he never comes near me again. Give me the banking
information, and I will contact the bank before leaving here so that I may be done with all of this.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m leaving the room thousands of dollars less, but lucky enough to have this
taken care of. Now, I can get back to my routine and preparing for my next fight.
I head back to the loft, more than ready to get out of these clothes and into something far more
comfortable. As I park in the underground parking garage, my phone rings. I pick it up to see my
manager is calling.
I swipe my finger across the screen and answer, “Hey, Martin, how’s it going?”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me what the fuck was going on with Ezra?” Martin demands right
away.
“Wait, how do you know about it?” I question, my gut tightening. I didn’t want anyone to find this
shit out.
“Considering I received a call from the boxing commissioner first thing this morning asking if
you’d been arrested for assault a week ago, I think it’s best you start talking, Reese,” Martin
grumbles, and I feel my stomach twist.
“Ezra got to me, and I punched him hard enough to break his nose,” I retort and go on to explain
the rest of what happened, including this morning at the courthouse. How I’d agreed and paid him a
quarter of a million to keep this from going any further.
“Well, it seems they’ve fucked you, Reese . . . in more ways than one,” Martin remarks. “Where
are you? I’m gonna come to you.”
“Just got back to the loft.”
“Right, I’ll be there in just a bit, don’t go anywhere.”
He hangs up before I have a chance to question him on what’s going on.
I drop my phone from my ear, lean back in my seat, and reach up to pinch the bridge of my nose.
Why does this shit have to be happening now? Right at the peak of my career? I’m the heavyweight
champ and have worked hard as hell to get here, and now this shit is being thrown at me. I don’t know
what I’m supposed to do.

“You should have come to me the moment it happened,” Martin says, pacing the length of my place as
he finishes reading over the papers I’d signed.
“Probably, but I went ahead and took care of it myself,” I grunt, watching him closely.
“Yes, but it seems we’ve got a situation.”
 “And that is?”
Please don’t be what I think it is.
“The call I got from the boxing commissioner’s office was to tell me that until further notice, your
license is being revoked, and you will no longer be allowed in the ring.”
Martin’s words scream in my head, and I feel like my world is crumpling in on itself.
“I’m going to do what I can, and hopefully, this shit can be resolved, but I can’t guarantee it,”
Martin breathes out roughly.
I nod, unable to speak.
Martin says a few other things about getting me out of this situation and that until then I should just
lay low. He suggested I go back home for a while.
I agree with him and wait for him to leave before slumping into a chair. How could I let this shit
happen? It was a stupid thing to do hitting Ezra and thinking I could let it be swiped under a rug
without consequences.
My phone beeps in my pocket. I want to ignore it, but I don’t. I pull it out to find a text from Rhett
saying he’s got a fight coming up. He always tells me when he’s fighting, in case I want to make it to
one, but normally I don’t get a chance to.
Guess I’ll be making this one, considering I have nothing better to do. At least by showing up at
his fight, I can surprise him and show my support. It might help in distracting me from my own shit
going on.
CHAPTER FOUR
HAVEN
In all the world, there’s not much that can top the feeling I get when I see a child smile.
Right now, I’m looking at ten young kids who normally wear scowls and grimaces painted on
their face look at the building behind me bubbling with excitement.
Christina came through like a freaking hero. Not only did she get her father to open up the gym for
the kids to look around, but he even offered to give a few beginners sessions to anyone who is
interested as long as they got their parents’ approval. All for free.
Ashill Woods may be a small town in Colorado, but Corey Bright and Bright’s Boxing Gym are
the shining stars of the community. Everyone knows and respects Corey. To have him open up his
doors to these children is a blessing. Not to mention, it really is garnering some attention from the
other children who aren’t in my program.
Exactly what Luke said we needed.
“Okay, guys, I know there’s going to be a lot of equipment in there, but this isn’t a playground.
This is a serious place, and if you don’t pay attention, you can get hurt. No one is to be goofing off in
there, or they’re not going to let us come back. Do you understand?” My eyes scan all the children,
taking a mental snapshot of what each one looks like before we walk in. I’m going to have to come up
with a good explanation if one of these kids walks out with any cuts or bruises.
After all the children nod, I lead them into the main lobby of Bright’s Boxing Gym, where
Christina is already standing waiting for us.
“Awesome! Hey, guys,” she says, almost as excited as the kids. In her hand is a box full of what
looks to be water bottles, and at her feet is another box with hand towels and hand wraps, all with
Bright’s Boxing Gym printed on them.
“Oh, no. Are these for us?” I ask, my eyes wide as I take in the goodies. “You didn’t have to do
that? Letting us in here is more than—”
She playfully throws a towel at me, cutting me off before she says, “Haven, stop it. You know we
do as much as we can to help the community, and if these kids are interested in the gym, then we want
to make sure they get the best.”
With a smile, I take the box from her with one arm, while I reach out with my other arm and pull
her into a hug. She kisses my cheek and gives me a squeeze before she hurries to start handing out
everything she has.
While Christina is busy with the kids, I make it my business to look around the main intake area of
the gym. I’ve been in town a little while now, but I’ve never had the need to come in here. Along with
the sleek reception area, the back wall is full of all the many different boxers’ accomplishments.
Some have gone on to fight in martial arts tournaments. Others have gone on to open their own gyms.
It seems like everyone who’s passed through these doors have come out the other side better for it.
“Miss, I thought you said fighting was bad?” Benny pipes up behind me.
I turn on my heel and look down at him. “I did say that, and I still believe that, but mostly when it
comes to fighting out in the street. Here in the gym, there are rules and sportsmanship. Discipline. For
me violence will always be the absolute last resort but if you have to fight, at least here in the gym it’s
a safer environment.”
Benny’s eyebrows furrow in slightly, and he gives me a stiff nod, as if he’s really thinking about
what I’m saying.
“Not only that, fighting in the gym takes away most of the risk of punishment,” Christina adds.
“How cool is that? This is the only place where you can hit people, and as long as you play by the
rules, you won’t get in trouble for it.”
I look around the crowd of children and see some of their eyes light up. Most of them are always
getting into trouble for one thing or another. Finally, having something that they want to do and
knowing that they won’t get in trouble for it must really make them feel at ease.
“All right, let’s get started.” Christina claps her hands, and we all follow her through the double
doors that lead to the actual gym part of the facility.
The group of us stands frozen for a second as we take everything in. Even I wasn’t expecting the
inside to look like this. Not only are there three large boxing rings, but there’s an MMA cage and a
flat mat I’ve seen used in karate matches.
Exercise equipment lines the left side of the space, and to the right are free weights and space for
open floor exercises. At least a dozen men and three women are presently using the facility, each of
them clad in workout gear and dripping in sweat. These trainers are not here to play around.
Once the shock wears off, Christina continues to show us around the facility. The kids are
enthusiastic about everything. They ask questions and even attempt to use some of the equipment that
Christina shows them. Unfortunately, my awe stopped at the look of the gym. I have no real interest in
ever using any of this equipment.
The grunts and powerful blows of a man working out in the corner catches my attention. Even
while Christina is still answering the million and one questions the children have for her, this man is
much more interesting.
He’s in a simple outfit, gray workout pants loose enough that I can see his quad muscles bulge
every time he twists or slides around the punching bag he’s using. The black hoodie he’s wearing is
oversized, but the arms are cut at the elbows, I’m assuming to give him more freedom to throw his
punches.
The thick muscles in his arms bunch and release as he quickly and proficiently hits the bag.
Boxing has always been a brutal and otherwise barbaric sport to me, but something about his moves,
how fluid they are . . . he makes it look beautiful.
My eyes continue the journey up this man’s body until I catch just a glimpse of his face under the
hood. Thick scruff covers the lower portion of his face, and from what I can see his cheekbones are
sharp and high. I suck in a quick breath when his face jerks up, and I see through the shadow of his
hood that he’s looking at me too.
The intense seriousness that was just plastered on his face is gone, and now a flirtatious smirk
lifts his lips. He pulls the hood on his head back slightly, so I get a better look at him.
I need to look away. I know I should, but for some reason, I’m stuck staring into his intense eyes.
“Oh my God . . . that’s Reese Dyer . . . Wow!”
My daydream is cut short when all at once, all the kids from my program run past me, straight
toward the man I was just staring at. They pull papers out their pockets and book bags and are
begging to take pictures with him. I, on the other hand, have no idea why they are reacting like this.
Christina walks up beside me with a huge smile on her face, and I take that moment to find out
what’s going on.
“Why are they all going bananas like this? Who’s he?”
Christina cuts her eyes at me and scoffs. “Girl, you need to turn on the TV every once in a while.
That’s Reese Dyer, the heavyweight boxing champ.”
 “Champ of what?”
“The world, sweetheart,” Reese answers, and my gaze swing back to his. He gives me a panty-
melting wink before he focuses back on the kids in front of him.
I’m impressed at how gracious he is. I’m sure he didn’t come to the gym to be mobbed by a bunch
of kids, but no matter what they ask him to sign, Reese does it with a smile on his face. Not only that,
but he answers all the questions and takes as many pictures as they want.
When I walked up to the gym this morning with the kids, I thought the one part of this trip I’d be
looking forward to would be the kids’ happiness and excitement. Turns out, what I’m actually looking
forward to now are those heated glances Reese keeps shooting at me and trying to find more ways to
get him to do it again.
CHAPTER FIVE
REESE
“What made you become a boxer?”
“Do you train, like all the time?”
“Can you show us some of your moves?”
Question after question is thrown at me. I don’t mind really. Since everything went down, I’d
come home and started training in Bright’s Boxing Gym again, just as I did before going pro. Sparring
with Travis is always fun. He knows my moves nearly as well as I do and makes it challenging to
change my maneuvers up to take him down.
I answer the kids’ questions, my gaze going back to the woman who brought them all in. She’d
caught my eye the moment she stepped through the doors. The woman’s got long, wavy, midnight
black hair. I’ve always been a tit man, and she’s definitely got a pair on her that has my hands itching
to feel them in my palms.
I shake the thought off, knowing there’s no point in thinking such things considering everything
else I’ve got going on.
After a while, the kids move on, and the woman steps forward, holding her hand out.
“Thank you for everything, Mr. Dyer.”
“Reese,” I say, clasping my hand in hers. “Call me Reese. And it’s not a problem. It’s who I am.”
I shrug and step back as I run a hand through my hair.
“It’s not who you are, but what you do,” the woman says, beaming at me with a smile that goes
straight to my dick. But it’s the way her eyes lock with mine, and she seems to be staring deeply into
them as if she can see all that I hide from the world.
Fuck, I’m being stupid. I'm just imagining shit right now. All I should be thinking of where this
woman is concerned is how sweet her body is.
“Cool, you think that, but boxing is what I live for. It’s a part of who I am . . .” I realize I don’t
know her name. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me. I’m Haven.”
If I’m not mistaken, I believe Haven blushes as she introduces herself.
“Well, Haven, it’s good to meet you.” I smirk, nodding to the kids. “Guess you better catch up
with your group.”
Haven smiles and glances in the direction I indicate. “You’re right. I should.” Her gaze sliding
back to me. “But for the record, just because you think something is a part of who you are doesn’t
actually make it who you are. Boxing is just a part of life for you, a profession. Take, for example,
some of these kids aren’t from the best of places, and yet that doesn’t describe who they are. It’s just
the hand they’re given right now.”
I want to question her on how she can seem to think it’s as easy as her words make it out to be.
But before I can, one of the kids calls her name, and she excuses herself to join the group of kids
again.
Turning away, I head for one of the punching bags. I’m still in training mode, though there isn’t a
point in me doing so. It’s not like I have a match to prepare for. But I need this. Something that is a
part of my daily life. Training. Getting ready for a fight.
Nearly two weeks ago, my life officially took a turn for the worse, and I’ve yet to talk to anyone
about it. Rhett asked me about it when I showed up at his fight, but I was able to brush it off for the
time being. I’d heard about him getting with Christina Bright. I always knew he had a thing for her but
being that she’s Travis’s little sister, I didn’t think he’d go for it.
Yesterday while speaking with Martin about what’s going on with the boxing commission, he
informed me that Ian, my coach, has joined Niko’s team. This news pissed me off and I ended up
breaking my phone after disconnecting. If not for Ezra and this bullshit he’s caused for me, none of
this would be happening and my ring coach wouldn’t have deserted me.
I slam my fist into the punching bag repeatedly, my gaze focused solely on the bag, but in my head,
it’s Ezra. I wish I’d done more to him for what he’s cost me. I should have. At least then, it would feel
like it was worth losing everything. The more I think about it, I realize that Ezra couldn’t have been
working on this alone. Niko had to have been a part of it. That’s the reason Ezra approached me in the
first place. Wanted to buy a win for Niko.
Niko is a pussy ass motherfucker who doesn’t like to play fair. He hides behind those who do the
dirty work for him. My guess is he didn’t want to face me in the ring ‘cause he knew I’d beat him. The
little shit, no matter how big he is, doesn’t have shit on me.
The way I box, it’s man to man, no faking to appease anyone. It’s legit with no payoffs. Whereas
everything revolving around Niko is dirty. He can’t seem to grow a pair of balls and come out of the
shadows.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when a pair of hands grip my shoulders. When I whirl about to slam
my fist into whoever dared to touch me, I realize who it is.
“Easy, man,” Travis says, brows furrowed as he stares at me, hands raised up in front of him. “It’s
just me.”
“Sorry.” I let out a haggard breath and shake my head. “I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”
“I figured as much. I’d only been calling out to you for the past five minutes,” he states, crossing
his arms and jerking his chin to the punching bag. “Way you were going at that bag, I figured if I didn’t
stop you soon, you might rip the damn thing right off the chain, and we’d have to get a new one.”
Glancing from Travis to the punching bag, I sigh and plant my hands on my hips, breathing
roughly, and shaking my head. “Sorry, I was in my head and wasn’t thinking.”
“I get that.” Travis nods in understanding. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Do I look like I want to do that?”
“No, but sometimes it helps.”
“When did you lose the dick and become a chick?” I cock a brow, knowing the man ain’t one for
talking feelings.
“Fuck you, Reese,” Travis snorts, “I’m not about to go asking you to express yourself to me. Just
offering to let you get what’s on your mind out so you can actually focus ‘cause what you were doing
wasn’t focusing on the bag. Your mind was elsewhere.”
Am I that easy to read?
“I’m good,” I grunt and decide to be done for the day. I’ve got other shit to deal with. Like getting
a new damn phone and going to check in with my mom. Other than the night of Rhett’s match, I haven’t
seen her, which I’m sure is pissing her off because she’s not one to be avoided. Being a single parent
of three kids isn’t easy, and she made sure we all knew better than to cross her. The woman is hell on
wheels, but also the best mom in the world.
“Whatever you say, man.” Travis gives me a chin lift and steps back.
“I’m gonna go shower and change. I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Aren’t you coming to the club tonight?” he asks, cocking a brow.
 “What club?”
“Aura. It opened a while back and it’s pretty awesome.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Reese, come out and be my wingman. Your brother’s always with my sister nowadays,
and I need someone to help me out.” He smirks and wags his brows. “Who knows, you might meet a
woman to help work out the shit in your head for the night.”
I give that a thought and the image of Haven pops in my head. Yeah, I wouldn’t mind sinking into
her for a night, maybe two, but that’s not about to happen. Hell, I probably won’t see her again. I
glance around the gym, confirming what I already knew. She was gone, and so were all the kids.
Travis is right, though, I should find a woman to help work out the tension built up in a different
way that’s more pleasurable than slamming my fist in the punching bag. “I’m in,” I agree and find out
the time to meet up with him before heading to the locker room.
CHAPTER SIX
HAVEN
“Come on. Please? Can we trade? I thought blue was your favorite color?”
I stand to the side as my group of kids dig through the goodie bags they’ve gotten from the gym,
pulling out the various items Christine packed up for them. Mirrah, one of the few girls in the group,
is trying to trade with Elliott since he has red hand wraps, and hers are blue.
The only reason I’m so interested in their little interaction is that Mirrah is here because she’d
been caught stealing on multiple occasions. The fact that she’s willing to ask and trade instead of just
taking something is a step up for her.
“Fine, here.” Elliott reaches into his bag and trades with Mirrah.
I pull my focus from the two of them and look over the group of kids. Thankfully, no one has come
back with any new scrapes or bruises. Instead, they’re all flush with excitement and new goals.
Christina and some of the other members of the gym explained to the kids some great perks they could
get if they managed to stay out of trouble and join the gym. At the end of the tour, Corey Bright
himself, along with a man named Travis, came out to show the kids some basic self-defense moves.
I’m grateful that it was the two instructing the kids, but I would have been more than okay if Mr.
Dyer had been the one to do some teaching. That man is fine with a capital F.
Even though I knew they were safe, seeing the kids throw each other around and swing punches at
each other had me on edge. It was impressive to see how quickly the kids were open to learning to
release their anger in constructive ways. That gym can be a godsend for some of them.
My eyes drop to my watch, and I see it’s past closing time. “All right, that’s all for today.
Everyone get home safe,” I call out, and the kids wave as they walk off in small groups back to their
homes.
The town is safe, but I like to make sure everyone leaves the community center campus without
incident. As I keep watch, something nags at the back of my mind. Subtly, I do a count and realize one
of the kids is missing. I don’t see Benny.
Panic surges through me, and I rush into the community center to call his mom just to make sure he
made it home safely. It’s not unlike him to walk off, but I usually see him before he leaves. I was so
distracted with my thoughts about Reese, I wasn’t paying attention.
At this time of day, none of the other programs are running in the community center, so it’s eerily
silent in the building. My sneakers squeak on the floor as I speed walk toward my office.
“Oh!” I stop short when I see Benny in his signature black hoodie sitting on the floor in front of
my office door. “Benny? Are you okay?”
Taking a deep breath, I walk to where he is. When he stands up, he pulls the hood off his head, but
he doesn’t look up at me.
Benny is a quiet kid, keeps mostly to himself unless he’s fighting someone. Unfortunately, that’s
the only time I really have much interaction with him. He’s never come to see me on his own before.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and shifts his weight. “I really liked the
stuff I learned at the gym today.”
It’s nice that he’d tell me he appreciated the field trip, but I can’t see why he needed to wait for
everyone to leave to do it. “That’s great. I’m glad you had a good time.”
When he doesn’t leave or say anything else, I pry a little deeper. “Is there something you want to
talk to me about? You want to go in the office?”
“No. Nothing like that. I just had a question.” Finally, he raises his eyes to mine, and I nod for him
to continue. “Well, when we were there, it seemed like you knew the lady working there. Like you
guys were friends. I was wondering if you knew if they trained kids for more than just the group stuff.
Like, would they train me how to fight?”
“Fight? Why do you want to know how to fight?” Red flags shoot up in my mind, and I get a little
closer to Benny. He’s blushing from nervousness. Obviously, this is very important to him. “You
already know how to fight. The tips you learned there today aren’t to be used just on anyone, you
know that, right?”
“Yeah, Miss, I know. I’m not talking about fighting any of the kids here. I just . . . I need to fight
someone bigger.” He darts his eyes to the side.
Sorrow forces a frog up into my throat, and I have to clear it before I can talk again. “Who?” I ask
him, but I don’t expect him to answer. All I get is a half-hearted shrug.
Something more is going on, but I know from experience that if I force him to tell me what’s going
on, he’s never going to trust me again. Whatever the problem is, Benny feels like he needs a way to be
safe. I have my suspicions that something more is going on with him at home, but never have I had any
real proof.
“Okay, you don’t have to tell me.” With a sigh, I run my fingers through my hair and do my best to
lighten the atmosphere. “I’ll talk to Christina and see if they have any room on the roster for the next
heavyweight champion.”
He smiles at me, and I ruffle his hair before I bend down and pick up his backpack. It’s
surprisingly heavy.
“Thanks!” he replies, taking the bag from my outstretched hand, and walking away. He seems less
nervous now that he thinks there’s a chance for him to get into the gym and learn how to fight. Before I
drive myself crazy, I push the thoughts of what could be going on with him out of my mind and go into
my office.
It’s always fun to go on field trips, but they can be draining. I drop on my sofa and lean back
against the fluffy back cushion. With my eyes closed, I do some deep breathing meditation, trying to
decompress.
Just as I’m getting into the third round of my meditation, my phone rings in my purse. Christina’s
name pops up on the display when I pull out my cell.
“Hey, everything okay?” I ask while grabbing my jacket off the back of my chair.
“Yeah. Of course. I’m just calling to find out how the kids liked everything.” Her cheery voice
instantly puts me in a good mood.
“Oh, man, they loved it. I can’t call it yet, but I’m sure you’ve got some new recruits.” Sharing a
laugh with her, I decide to wait before I ask about getting Benny in. I don’t want her to think I’m trying
to take advantage or anything.
“I’m so glad. It’s not very often we get to deal with the kids of the community. Most of the parents
don’t think fighting is a good thing.”
“Yeah, I can understand that.” I stifle a yawn, the day really catching up to me.
“Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good for what I’m about to ask,” Christina says.
“What do you mean? What are you going to ask me?”
“Besides calling to find out how the kids liked the tour, I wanted to see if you’d come out tonight
with us to Aura. Before you rush and tell me no, I think this could be really good for you,” she
blathers, and I have a hard time keeping up with her.
 “Wait, what could be really good for me? What’s Aura?”
Christina huffs out a breath. “Girl, really? What do you do besides work? Aura’s the newest club
to open in town. It’s really all anyone talks about lately, and my other friend will be there. With you
being new blood in this town, it’ll be good for you to come out and have some fun.”
Fun? I don’t want fun. I want a hot bubble bath and my bed. I’m beat. “I don’t know, Christina. I’m
totally wiped out.”
“Aw, man, don’t make me beg. Just for a little while. Besides us, some of the other guys from the
gym will be there. It’s going to be a blast.”
“Other guys from the club?” My attention was piqued, and I feel the exhaustion draining out of my
body and being replaced with anticipation. She couldn’t possibly mean . . .
“Yeah, Travis will be there, my boyfriend, Rhett, his brother, Reese, and a few others. I’m not
sure if they know the girls are coming too, but I think it’ll be a nice surprise for them.” She laughs,
and I follow suit, only so she won’t realize she hooked me the minute she said Reese is coming.
It’s not that I think I have any sort of shot with a celebrity like him, but I don’t mind getting a
chance to see him again. A sharp thrill rolls over my body at the thought of seeing him outside of
workout clothes, and I wonder if he’s still that sexy when he’s not dripping wet with sweat and
pounding on inanimate objects.
“Okay, I guess I can come out for a little while,” I say as nonchalantly as I can.
While she gives me the address of the place, my mind catalogs the clothes in my closet at home.
I’m going to need a sick outfit if I’m going to catch the eyes of the world champion.

“Girl, I didn’t know we were showing out like this tonight. You trying to find yourself a husband, I
see,” Skyla, Christina’s friend, says as she looks me over.
I wink at her and do a little spin to show off my outfit. I look damn good, if I do say so myself.
I’m wearing a black, long sleeved, lace bodysuit top with a nude lining. It’s very low cut and my
double D breasts are pushed up in my Fenty bra. My long legs are enclosed in a pair of skin-tight
black jeans, the fabric stretchy enough to show my curves but also keep any problem areas nice and
hidden. I finished out the outfit with a pair of chunky heel combat boots, big hoop earrings, and a drop
string star necklace which hangs perfectly between my cleavage. I put on minimal makeup, mostly
because I’ve never been very comfortable with a full face on.
Not only have I turned quite a few heads since I got here, but I feel sexy in the outfit. It doesn’t
matter how good everyone else thinks I look. If I’m uncomfortable with what I’m wearing, it’ll show.
A deep booming song blares through the speakers, and Christina’s face lights up. “Oh, this is my
song! Come on, let’s dance.” She grabs both mine and Skyla’s hands, pulling us out on the floor.
In seconds, I let the music take over, dancing like no one’s watching. Skyla is a fun girl. She does
the iconic water sprinkler move, which causes both Christina and I to burst out laughing. It’s been a
long time since I just let loose like this.
“Hey, I didn’t even see them come in. The boys are here,” Christina shouts over the music,
pointing in the direction of one of the tables near the VIP area.
My head snaps in that direction quickly, and the first set of eyes I land on are the same dark brown
ones I’ve been thinking about all day. Reese is staring at me like I’m something to eat. He doesn’t stop
even when he sees that I’ve caught him.
 The last time I had a boyfriend, it was before I moved to Ashill Woods. In fact, it was back in
college, and he never looked at me the way Reese is looking at me now. There are dozens of people
in the club, but it’s like I can feel his gaze burning through my skin and setting every nerve ending
from my lips to my pussy on fire. How can one man make me so hot for him so fast?
“Crap,” I mutter to myself.
“What?” Skyla leans forward, twisting her head in my direction to hear what I’m saying.
“Huh? Nothing!” I reply.
I’m not going to share with her that I just figured out that he’s even sexier now than when he was
in the gym.
CHAPTER SEVEN
REESE
Finding a parking spot for my Range Rover, I park and get out somewhat wishing I didn’t agree to
come tonight, but I need this. To get out and spend time with people and get my mind off everything
else.
I shove my keys in my front pocket and grab my new phone to text Travis to let him know I’m here
when I find he’d texted me saying he’s at the doors waiting.
After leaving the gym earlier, I’d done as I told myself I was gonna do and went to get a new
phone and visit my mom. It wasn’t exactly thrilling for me, but my mom has a way of making things
better, even if it’s for a brief moment in time.

Holding my new iPhone in hand, I scroll through the text messages waiting for me from Martin
demanding I call him immediately. I get in behind the wheel and connect my phone to Bluetooth
before pulling his name up in my contacts. My stomach lurches as I touch the phone icon under his
name.
Martin answers on the second ring. “Next time you hang up on me, I’m going to kick your ass.”
At the other man’s greeting, I smirk for the first time without forcing myself to do so. “Like you
could kick my ass.”
“I would right now if you were anywhere near me,” Martin grumbles. “Anyway, I wanted to
suggest to you that we bring the legal team in on this. Maybe they’ll be able to help getting through the
red tape and putting you back in the ring sooner.”
I allow his suggestion to roll over in my head briefly before shaking my head. “I don’t want
someone I don’t know handling this. I’ve got to be able to trust them and know they’ll put in the work.
I want someone who I know will put me first.”
“I get it, Reese, but we need a legal rep in on this. I can’t do it alone.”
“I’ve got a buddy who’s a lawyer. I’ll call him to see if I can’t set up a meet with him.”
If I have to have a lawyer in on this, Kai’s who I want at my back. I trust him and know he’s a
damn good lawyer.
“Right, let me know when you set the meeting up with him, and I’ll conference in for it,” Martin
states. “I’m not about to leave you in the wind on this. We’re lucky none of this has hit the media. No
matter what they agreed to.”
“I’ll let you know, Martin,” I grumble, pulling in front of my mom’s little house. It’s not the same
as the one we grew up in. I hang up with Martin as I park and shut the engine off. Over the years my
mom has refused to let me or anyone else take care of her. She claims she’ll never take handouts, but
I’d insisted on getting her out of the area she was living in and bought this house for her. Mom had
been pissed, though in the end she gave in. If only she’d let me do the same with her car, I’d be happy.
Rhett does what he can to make sure her car is well maintained. Anytime she says something’s not
right, he’s been able to handle it.
I spot my mom stepping out onto the porch as I climb out from behind the wheel.
 From the way she’s crossing her arms over her chest, I know without a doubt she’s none too happy
with me. It’s the mom look she’s always gotten with the three of us.
“Hey, Mom,” I call out as I make my way up the path to the porch.
“Hey, Mom? That’s all you have to say to me? In the time you’ve been home, Reese Michael
Dyer, you have not once visited me,” she states, getting right to it.
“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” I try to explain it in a way without giving her too much to question.
“Busy my ass,” she calls me out.
“Mom,” I sigh, “I said I’m sorry, okay? I’ve got shit going on right now, and I’m not ready to talk
about it. When I am, you know I’ll tell you.” I don’t bother lying, she’ll see right through it. So, I stick
with what I’ve been saying because I don’t want anyone else to know yet.
“Fine, now come inside and have some cake with me,” she says, dropping her arms.
I smile, doing as I’m told, knowing this is her way, and I don’t question it.

Mom and I ended up talking for well over an hour before I left and went home to get ready to go out
and meet up with Travis at this club. Instead of texting back, I shove my phone in another pocket and
head for the doors to meet my friend.
I don’t miss the line that wraps around the building. The fact my friend is at the doors means he’s
gotten VIP status here or something in that regard because there’s no other way he would have been
able to get through that line.
Ignoring the gawking stares, I approach Travis and the bouncer he’d been talking to.
“Mike, this is my buddy . . .”
“Reese Dyer,” Mike finishes for him and sticks his hand out toward me. “Damn glad to meet you
in person, man.”
“Thanks.” I take his hand and shake it. “Nothing special about me, but appreciate you wantin’ to
meet.”
The three of us chat for a moment more before Travis suggests we get inside saying the others
were already in there.
“Who all’s here?” I ask.
“After you left, I told Phoenix and Karter we were hitting up Aura tonight and they decided to
join. Christina and her friend, Skyla, also heard, and Skyla being crazy as she is, invited herself, my
sister, and another friend of theirs along. And, of course, you know with Chris coming, your brother
had to get in on the fun,” Travis explains as we make our way through the club to the table they’re all
surrounding.
Spotting my brother at the table, I smirk when he catches my gaze on him.
“What?” He quirks a brow in question when I’m close enough.
“Didn’t figure you for being a club goer.” I grin and shrug.
“I’m not, but no way in hell I’m letting Christina out of my sight when she’s got a ‘fuck me’ dress
on that Skyla talked her into wearing,” he explains, jerking his chin up in the direction of the dance
floor.
I follow his line of sight and am stunned by the sight of my brother’s woman. I don’t think I’ve
ever seen her in anything other than workout clothes or jeans and a tee.
“Rhett, swear to God, you say ‘fuck’ and my sister’s name together and I’m going to lose my shit. I
don’t need or want to hear what the hell y’all do, and I sure as fuck don’t want to see it,” Travis
growls, giving Rhett a pointed stare.
I chuckle along with Phoenix and Karter as my little brother flips Travis the bird. After a couple
minutes of interacting, I decide to go grab a drink from the bar. By the time I get back, it’s to hear
Karter laughing and calling Travis a manwhore.
Joining in on the fun, I bring up a time back in the day when Travis was caught by a teacher going
at it in a closet with two of the cheerleaders.
“Ha-ha-ha, laugh it up, why don’t you,” Travis smirks. “I’m just living the best life being a single
man enjoying all that I can for the time being.”
I snort and lift my beer to my lips as I glance over to the dance floor. I came here tonight to find a
woman to sink into. One woman catches my eye instantly as she sways to the music. The way she
moves and the outfit she’s got on goes straight to my dick. We may have a winner.
When she turns around, I utter a curse under my breath. It’s none other than Haven, the woman
from the community center who brought all the kids into the gym today.
I knew I wanted inside her earlier today, and now I’m certain of it, but Haven’s not a one-night-
stand kinda woman. All it takes is one look in those beautiful eyes of hers to know that about her.
A moment later, she’s heading in our direction alongside Christina and her friend, Skyla. The
entire time her gaze glued to mine until they reach our table. Only then does she look away, smiling as
Christina introduces us all to Haven, though I’d met her at the gym earlier that day along with Travis.
“I love this song.” Skyla laughs. “Who’s dancing with me?” she asks, glancing at all of us.
“I need a moment to get a drink.” Haven giggles.
“Fine, Christina, come on.”
I chuckle as Skyla grabs Christina’s hand and all but drags her away. But the funnier part is how
my brother follows on their heels.
“I need a drink,” Phoenix grunts.
The way he announces this causes me to glance in his direction to find him glaring in the direction
Skyla and Christina went.
Interesting, I’ve known Phoenix since school, but he’d gone into the military after high school, and
we hadn’t spoken much over the years. I heard from Rhett that he was also a part of the Underground
circuit; I just don’t remember what he does.
“I should go get one myself,” Haven says as Phoenix starts in the direction of the bar.
“How about I go with you?” I offer, wanting to stick close to her.
I don’t know what it is, but something about her calls out to me, making me want to get to know
her more.
“Sure, that would be great.” She nods, beaming a smile up at me.
“Don’t mind me,” Travis states, a hint of laughter in his voice. “I’ll be good all by my lonesome.
Maybe I’ll find a woman to spend my time with since you’re all deserting me.”
“Asshole, I’m still here.” Karter snorts, slugging Travis in the arm. “But since you made the
comment and I see someone wearing my favorite color, I’m gonna go enjoy the rest of my night.”
I shake my head as Haven giggles. “Come on, let’s go get that drink.”
Nodding, Haven turns, and I follow her to the bar. We find a section and squeeze in. Luckily
there’s a stool free, and I offer it up to Haven while I stand sideways, looking at her.
“So, you run the community center?” I ask while we wait for the bartender.
“No, I’m just an employee. I love working there, being around all the kids, and helping them
where they’ll allow me to. It’s not easy getting kids to trust a person when they’ve got their guard up
against the world.”
I’m astounded by her answer and can appreciate her dedication to what she does.
The bartender finally gets to us, and I order another beer while Haven orders a vodka and
cranberry.
I pull a twenty from my wallet, hand it to the bartender, and tell him to keep the change.
Haven and I stay at the bar talking rather than returning to the table. We discuss the different things
we like to do, and I’m surprised to find out she’s into snowboarding.
“What’s your favorite place to go boarding?” I ask, completely enthralled by the woman.
“I’ve been to several places, but I think my favorite has to be Big Sky Resort in Montana.”
“Not a bad choice, but I’ve got to go with Jackson Hole out in Wyoming.”
“I’ve been there.” She grins.
“Why don’t you join me tomorrow? We could go boarding?” The words are out before I can stop
them, and I find myself wanting nothing more than to take her out boarding. I’m fascinated by this
woman, and I want to know more about her.
“That would be great,” she agrees.
We exchange numbers, and I tell her to text me her address. Before I can ask her anything else,
though, we’re surrounded, and I inwardly groan at the attention of the women who are asking for
pictures and wanting to press up against me. I look to Haven to give her an apologetic look, but she’s
nowhere to be found.
Great. I didn’t want her to leave yet. I want to spend time with her, not a bunch of groupies.
Ironic as it may be. I came out looking to get laid and could easily get it from any of these women,
but I find myself only wanting one woman, and she’s gone. I hope she’s still up for our date tomorrow.
As quick as I can, I detach the groping women and get out of there. The moment I’m behind the
wheel, I pull my phone out and shoot a text off to Haven, letting her know that I’m sorry about what
happened and that I can’t wait to go boarding. I also give her a time to expect me to pick her up.
Setting my phone down, I let out a breath feeling exhausted yet excited at the same time.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HAVEN
Talk about cliché.
When I woke up this morning, the birds were chirping. Bright sunlight was streaming into my
room. I was so happy, little animals could have started singing, and I would have thought it normal.
I’m going on a date with Reese Dyer.
It’s been a long time since I was this excited about a date. It’s not because he’s famous, in fact, out
of everything that I learned about him last night, him being famous is my least favorite part. It’s not
lost on me that him being a celebrity means he’s probably going to be under constant scrutiny. I’m not
looking forward to that, but what really bothered me was all the women. I don’t like to share, and
seeing all those women throw themselves at him like he was a mating bull irked my nerves.
Everything else about him, though . . . I couldn’t get enough of.
He’s sweet, attentive, funny, unbelievably gorgeous, and we have more in common than I thought
was possible. When he told me about his interest in snowboarding, I figured it was something like a
passing fancy, but he spoke with such conviction and passion that I can’t deny he loves it just as much
as I do. When he asked me to go snowboarding with him today, I almost agreed before he could get
the entire question out of his mouth. Reese was going to pick me up this morning, but I thought it better
I get out there on my own just in case the vibes aren’t as good between him and me as they were last
night.
Rushing to finish washing up, I dug into the back of my small closet to pull out the snowsuits that I
owned. Since I go snowboarding so frequently, I have a plethora of options. Still, since I’m
considering this my and Reese’s first date, I want to look nice for him.
After slipping three of them on and instantly rejecting them, I grab hold of my pink and gray suit.
It’s not as comfortable as the others, mostly because it’s a bit more form-fitting, but I can still move
freely in it. I want him to be impressed.
I grab my snowboard, my bag, and everything else I need to get to Vail. I’m sweating by the time I
get outside to my car, but still, the excitement hasn’t ebbed. When I look in the rearview mirror, I see
my flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
I wonder if he’s as excited as I am.
Not wanting to show my cards too soon, I mentally will myself to calm down. I’m worried if he
thinks I’m too into him too fast, it could turn him off. I just need to take it easy. After doing a quick
meditation, I pull out of my parking spot and make my way to meet up with Reese. I’m ready to feel
that fresh powder under my board.

Every time I come back to Vail, I remember just how beautiful it is.
With it being so early in the day, there aren’t many people around. In fact, I’ve only seen two
people going up the mountain so far. Reese hasn’t arrived yet, but I’m a little early. I tried to slow
down while I was driving here, but the excitement gave me a lead foot.
I’m glad I’m able to spend some time out here on my own, though. My eyes scan the absolutely
breathtaking scenery. It’s not too cold, and there must have been some snowfall in the last few days
because the ground has a fresh layer of snow.
Leaning down, I run my gloved fingers through it to feel the texture. If it were too cold, the ground
would have frozen up, and that’s never good for any type of skiing or snowboarding. Wiping out on
ice is painful.
As my gaze wanders up the mountain, I notice the thick evergreen trees that stand tall and the
dusting of snow on the tips. Birds fly high above, and there’s not one cloud in the sky. We couldn’t
have picked a better day for this.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I jump at the sudden intrusion. I didn’t hear anyone walk up behind me, I was so focused on
looking at the mountain. When I turn around, Reese is standing behind me, and my thoughts slingshot
faster than a ping-pong ball in my mind.
First, I’m embarrassed that he caught me unaware, then I’m happy he’s here, and finally, I’m
completely turned on by how hot this man looks. Covered from neck to toe, he’s still dropped-dead
gorgeous. He looks like he trimmed up his scruff. He’s smiling wide and seems so carefree.
Gorgeous.
Last night while we were at the club, he was open with me, but there were a few times when it
looked as if he was tensing up. I like the carefree Reese much more than the tense one.
“When did you get here?” I ask, moving closer to him. He seems to draw me to him without even
trying.
“Only a few minutes ago. Sorry if I’m late.” He looks down at his wrist.
“No, you’re not. I was in a bit of a rush this morning.” I giggle and internally cringe. Could I
sound like any more of a schoolgirl?
“Oh?”
Play it cool, Haven.
“Yeah, I haven’t been able to get to the slopes in a while. I’m ready to go.” I pull my snowboard
from my backpack to show him, and he lifts his in return.
“Let’s get going then.”
With sure steps, Reese leads me up the mountain using the path. The conversation flows between
us, and I’m surprised at how quickly we make it to the midpoint.
“I think this is a good place to have our first run. What about you?” My heart is beating wildly,
and my breath is coming fast. I’m in good shape but nowhere as good as Reese. He’s not even
breathing hard.
We’ve just hiked halfway up a snowy mountain in full snow gear carrying heavy equipment, and
the man looks like he was only taking a stroll in the park.
“Yeah, this works.” He drops his snowboard to the ground and begins to strap himself in. Now,
I’ll get to see if he was being truthful about his skills. Snowboarding takes a lot of practice to master,
even though it may look simple. It’s a lot about balance and body control. It’s very easy for someone
to fall over or even to injure themselves if they don’t know how to control their body.
After I’m satisfied that Reese can safely get the snowboard on, I step into my own. At once, we
slide out onto the fresh powder. I look over my shoulder to ensure there’s no incoming traffic, and I
push off.
The wind smacking against my face is thrilling, and before long, I’m smiling so wide my teeth are
hurting from the cold. Both of us catch a good bit of speed, but I’m still pulling out in front of him.
Reese is keeping his body weight too high up.
 When Reese sees me looking over at him, he shows off by doing a spin and coming up on the
opposite side of me. I throw my head back and laugh before I do the same move so we’re back in our
original positions. I’m impressed and happy that I can finally let free with someone I don’t have to
worry about getting hurt.
It’s only seconds before we get back down to the bottom of the mountain, but it was still thrilling.
“Wow! You’re really good,” Reese says when we get back on flat ground.
“Thanks! You’re good too. I saw you trying to show off.” I poke fun at him, and he chuckles, his
cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.
“Though you were keeping your weight too high up when we were coming down. I can show you
how to go faster if you like.” I can’t stop myself, and I quickly say a little prayer that he’s not one of
those types of men who don’t like it when a woman knows more about a subject than they do.
One of his eyebrows hitches up, and he takes a step toward me. “You’re going to show me?”
“Yeah. What, the big bad boxer can’t take a few lessons from a woman?” I press a hand to my hip.
Even though I’m fully clothed, the way his eyes travel down my body makes me feel naked under his
gaze. I like it.
“I don’t mind taking lessons from a woman, but snowboarding isn’t a subject I need lessons on.”
I tilt my head once and squint at him. I smell a challenge in the air. “Is that so? Well, if you think
you know it all, how about we see who’s the fastest.”
“You talking about a race? You sure you want to do that, little girl?” He lifts his chin and crosses
his thick arms over his chest. “I’m not going to take it easy on you.”
I gasp in faux shock. “Get your ass up the mountain, Reese.” I bend down and unhook my feet from
my board while he does the same.
On the second trip up the mountain, we fall back into an easy conversation. He tells me all about
his best trips, and I let him in on some of my worst wipeouts. I even pulled my arm out of my
snowsuit to show him the scar from the surgery I had from breaking my arm. I wasn’t very conscience
about ice when I started getting into snowboarding.
He touched the scar tenderly, and even though it was brisk out, that one swipe of his gloved hand
was enough to send my blood boiling with desire. Being this attracted to someone this fast shouldn’t
be possible.
The both of us were so involved in the conversation that we completely missed the midpoint of
the mountain and wound up getting more than three-quarters of the way up.
“You’re not scared to be this far up, are you?” Reese asks as we get ready to step out onto the
slope.
“Scared? Boy, please.” I scoff at him, and my core flutters when he tosses his head back and
laughs. The booming sound bounces off the trees and surrounds me. I want to hear him laugh more.
We come out to the middle of the slope, and he lifts the hood on his coat, protecting his face.
“First one down wins,” I say as if he needs reminding how to win a race.
I don’t say start. I just hop into position and push off with the sound of him cursing behind me. I
get small and lean my body with the dips and peaks of the slope. My eyes search for the freshest snow
because I know it’ll be easier for me to keep my speed.
Right when I think I’ve got the race in the bag, Reese appears by my side. His body is low, and he
matches my skill. He was holding back the first time down. I push a little harder now, wanting more
than anything to beat him. It’s not like we put up any type of wager, but I’m naturally competitive. I
always want to win. Gotta be the best. It’s why I don’t like to share.
He shoots me a quick glance before he leans forward, picking up more speed and pulling out in
front of me.
Crap.
With his added body weight, it makes sense that he would be faster than me. More
momentum. Just as the slope is starting to even out, his speed slows but only slightly. I don’t question
why. Instead, I lean forward and pull to the front. We come to the bottom, almost neck and neck, but in
the end, I’m the one to make it down first.
“I won!” I hop up and down with my snowboard still attached.
He chuckles louder when I kick the snowboard off and start dancing around like I just won a big
fight. I know I’m acting like a fool, but it really does make me feel all warm and tingly when he
laughs like that.
I move closer to him and continue my celebration, but just as I’m about to do a spin, I feel my feet
slip out from under me. Before I could fall onto my ass, Reese’s hands snap out and grab me.
Breathing heavily, I clutch his arms and look up into his dark eyes. The humor is gone. Being this
close to him, the chemistry between us is sizzling in the air. “Too much celebrating,” I mutter.
He doesn’t respond because his eyes are trained on my mouth. If my body could speak, it would
be screaming, ‘do it!’. He doesn’t make another move, and he seems unsure. I don’t want him to have
any doubt. I lift as high as I can in my boots and slide my hand from his arm up to his neck.
With a soft grunt, he closes the distance between us, and his lips connect with mine.
Sparks shoot off instantly, and I feel my body turning to putty in his hands. He wraps me up nice
and tight while he continues to kiss and nip at my lips. When I feel his hips thrust against me subtly, I
let out a soft moan, which he quickly swallows. My open mouth gives him access, and he swipes his
tongue against mine.
I’m so hot. I wouldn’t mind getting out of these clothes, especially if Reese will continue kissing
me like that.
A sudden whoosh of cold air hits us from the side as another skier flies past us. Reese pulls away
and looks over his shoulder to make sure we’re not about to get collided into.
When he looks back down at me, I see the want still there. I don’t want to move too fast, though,
and if we keep kissing like that, I know I’m not going to have any willpower left to stop him.
“You let me win, didn’t you.” I glare at him, and instead of answering, he smirks at me and gives
me a little wink.
I slap his chest playfully and pull away from him with a smile on my face.
This man is going to be a problem.
CHAPTER NINE
REESE
For the past several weeks, I’ve gotten into the habit of spending my time between the gym and being
with Haven.
I swear it’s like a breath of fresh air when it comes to that woman. The way she sees things is
completely different from anyone else I know. I enjoy being around her, no matter what we’re doing.
Shit, other than kissing, we haven’t gone further. Granted, I would in a heartbeat, but for once, I’m
trying to do right by her. I don’t want her to think I only want sex from her. There’s no way that would
be possible when it comes to Haven. I enjoy being around her for her personality.
I’ve taken her out to dinner three times and the movies twice since meeting her. The rest of the
time, we texted and talked on the phone. I even visited the community center once to see the kids she
works with.
I’ve also been trying not to think of the boxing commission. Other than when I called Kai and
asked him to help me out. It’s bad enough as it is, I don’t need to stress further about it than I already
have. Kai agreed to help out in any way he can, but until we know what the boxing commission
officially decides to do, it’s simply a waiting game.
After spending the day with Haven on the slopes in Vail, I decided not to worry about what was
going on with the rest of my life. I needed to get lost in the now rather than in what comes next. To be
honest, the thought scares the hell out of me.
My phone beeps, pulling me from my thoughts. I pick it up off the counter in my kitchen and glance
down to see a text message from my brother asking if I was coming to the gym. I shoot him a quick
one back, stating the same thing I’ve sent lately. Guess you can say I’ve been avoiding him. Like my
mother, he’s got a way of seeing too deeply into things when it comes to family.
I grab my keys and head out. I need to run a few errands this afternoon before I head to Haven’s
place. It’s a quaint little place. Not big like mine. But regardless, it’s comfortable. It also suits Haven
in every way.
Locking the house behind me, I make my way to the driver’s side and climb in. I look out the front
window as I slip the key in the ignition and start the engine. At the end of my driveway, I spot the
mailman, and it reminds me that I haven’t checked the mail in a couple of days. Normally I have the
post office hold any mail that comes here, and my mom will come by once a month to pick it up, go
through it and handle anything important. The same goes with my loft in Vegas, though it’s not my
mom, but rather Martin when I’m not there.
I drive down the driveway and stop when I get to the end. Parking, I throw my door open, hop out,
and grab my mail out of the box. Heading back to get back in the driver’s seat, I swiftly go through the
mail only to come to a halt at the sight of a letter from the boxing commission.
Tossing the rest of the mail in the passenger seat, I rip the envelope open and yank the paper from
within. With bated breath, I scan over the letter only to find they’ve concluded that I no longer have a
career as a professional boxer. The boxing commission is taking my license from me, and I’m no
longer able to fight in the ring again. Not like I’ve done for so long.
I grip the paper tightly in my hand, not able to handle the emotions overtaking my system. I can’t
believe this is happening. I’m losing everything that’s meant so much to me. At a loss for what to do, I
press the command button on my steering wheel.
 “Call Kai,” I command. There has to be something we can do. This can’t be the end. Not now
when everything was going as I’ve always wanted.

“I’m sorry, Reese,” Kai says sincerely, sitting across from me at a café in town.
“There’s gotta be something we can do.” I hold his gaze as I rake a hand through my hair and
release a breath, my knee bouncing.
After I called him, he said he’d meet me at the café to talk rather than at his office. I would’ve
preferred to meet somewhere more secluded, but I guess it’s easier for him since this spot is close to
the courthouse, and he told me he’s due in court in two hours.
“I’ve been looking into everything, and it doesn’t look good,” he says, quietly shaking his head.
Leaning against the table, Kai keeps talking, “I can petition the boxing commission, state your case to
them. But from what I’ve found out from a friend of mine who works in the industry, they’re not gonna
change the decision.”
“Fuck,” I grind out, barely keeping myself from losing it. “This is all Ezra’s fault. The agreement
was that none of this shit would affect me so long as I paid the settlement.”
“I read over the agreement between the two of you.” Kai grimaces. “It states that he would keep it
out of the limelight, no media. There’s nothing about the boxing commission in there.”
Furious with myself, with the whole ordeal, I slam my hand against the table and ignore the
people who turn in our direction. “So that’s it. I’m done. Years of my life thrown away because of one
little fuck up?”
“Looks that way, Reese. Like I said, the only thing I can possibly do is petition them, but I can’t
guarantee that it’ll go in your favor. From what I know about the video, it’s pretty straightforward that
you hit Ezra without being provoked.”
“Fucker brought it on himself,” I growl, glaring at Kai through narrowed eyes. “The video didn’t
have any sound. He was all but threatening my family if I didn’t agree to throw a fight.”
Kai shakes his head and leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table. “You know how it
is in that world. It’s not the same as ours. It’s all about money and using it to gain what you want when
you want it and how you get it. It sucks, but it’s the truth. It’s a rare thing when honesty and fairness
come into play.”
I nod, knowing he’s right. I just don’t like it.

The rest of the afternoon, I sulk about the whole ordeal, knowing my career is officially over and I
don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs. I need to have a
purpose. Boxing gave me that.
For a while, I debate on whether or not I should cancel dinner tonight with Haven, but I can’t.
She’s the only good thing I’ve got going in my life, and I need to at least spend a couple of hours with
her.
I pull up in front of her house and park. As I get out, I step out onto the entryway. I take in her
outfit as I make my way across her yard. There’s no way I’m going to let her walk out to the car
without me escorting her there. My mom raised me better than that. Opening doors, holding them for
the lady to go first, and paying for meals. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.
“You look beautiful.” I smirk, slipping my fingers through the belt loops of her jeans.
“Thank you.” She beams and leans into my front as I lower my head to press my lips against hers.
Haven allows me to deepen the kiss, and I go for it, releasing one of her belt loops to reach up
and tangle my fingers in her hair. God knows, this is what I need right here.
Her lips on mine.
The feel of her against me.
Yeah, she makes everything better even when she doesn’t fucking know it.
Breaking my lips away from hers, I release a harsh breath. “Damn, I could stand here for hours
kissing you,” I rasp, brushing another chaste kiss along her mouth.
“Me too, but could you feed me first?” She giggles.
“Yeah, I’ll feed you, then we’ll continue this,” I answer, chuckling. I step back and untangle my
fingers from her hair. As I guide her to the passenger side of the Range Rover, I have my arm around
her back.
Helping her into the vehicle, I make sure her legs are out of the way before closing the door.
Seeing her. Kissing her has lightened my mood, but that’s ‘cause I don’t want her to know that I’m a
fuck up. A failure. And essentially jobless.
On the way to the restaurant, we talk about her day at the community center and what she wants to
do for the kids there. I listen and put in a comment here and there, but my mind roams back to the fact
I’m no longer a professional boxer. And I can’t help but think that I’ve lost who I am.
“So anyway, the duck ran out in front of me . . .”
Haven’s words pull me out of my head, and I blink, cocking my head slightly to see her staring at
me intently.
“What about a duck?” I ask, unsure of what she’s talking about.
“You seemed to have zoned out on me, and I figured I’d ramble about nothing until you finally
caught on.” She shrugs, her eyes assessing me with a knowing look. “You wanna tell me what’s going
on with you.”

“Nothing’s going on,” I say a little too fast.

“I call bullshit. Something’s wrong. I can see it in your eyes,” she states, calling me out on my lie.
Sighing, I pull into the parking lot of the restaurant and park. I turn slightly to her and rest my arm
on the steering wheel. “I’ve got some stuff going on. I’m not ready to talk about it with anyone yet.”
Haven seems to take my admission in and stares at me for a long moment before nodding. “When
you’re ready, I’m a good listener, and I’m here.”
“Appreciate it, baby.” I mean it when I say it, knowing that she’ll listen to me and not hold
judgment. I’m just not ready to disclose to anyone that I’ve lost everything.

After our talk in the car earlier, the rest of the evening has been going smoothly.
Haven and I joke around and laugh throughout dinner. I’ve just ordered us a dessert when we’re
bombarded by trouble. I’ve never had a problem with groupies before, but I can tell it’s bothering
Haven. I know this when she gets up from the table and starts walking away. Instead of appeasing
fans, I follow suit and catch up with her just outside. It took me a moment to join her since I stopped
at the hostess station, pulled out two hundred-dollar bills, and told her that should be more than
enough to cover our bill.
I grab Haven’s upper arm, pulling her to a halt. “Hey, what was that about?”
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head, not looking at me. “Just take me home.”
“Haven.” I grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger and urge her to look at me. “We were
having a good time. I’m sorry for the interruption.”
“Look, Reese.” Haven licks her bottom lip before continuing. “I get you’re famous and all that and
get that you come with crazed fans, but I’m not big on sharing. I don’t want this to come across as
clingy or that I’m rushing what we’re doing here. But I need to know that I’m a priority and not going
to come second or third to fans coming up and approaching you all the time. I need—”
“Baby, if I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t have started this with you. It might be the
beginning, but you can trust me when I say you are a priority,” I interrupt her.
Haven stares at me for a long moment before the tension all but leaves her body and she slumps
against me. “Okay. But can you promise me that we will always be honest with each other?”
“I promise, Haven.” The words are out before I can stop them, and I know I'm lying to her. I need
to tell her the truth, but what will she think when she finds out? I’m sure without a doubt she’ll leave
me knowing I’m a fraud.
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motte neme.… kuikens zijn jullie.… je had al veel eerder van de
Beek motte weg zijn.… zet je hoeke vol aarbeie, dàt is winst.…

Gerrit voelde zich altijd stikbenauwd, als dokter over tuinderij begon,
en over grond. Wel twintig tuinders uit de streek, die hij kende, had
dokter ’r met alderlei aanraadsels op die manier ondergebracht. En
aa’s dokter ’m zoolang ankeek.… was ie nog banger.… dat ie alles
in z’n oogen merken zou van z’n spulle, z’n gannefe.… je wist nooit
wá’ soo’n man an je ooge sien ken.… puur soo’n geleerdhait.…

—Joa.… joa.… moar.… viere en vaif.… en nie genog, schuchterde

ie verlegen.… ikke hep de loodpot nie, dokter?.… ikke nie!

—Zoo-zoo, nou, zijn jullie kerels, d’ris nog meer land, voor je zoon
Dirk.… ’n prachtig lapje.… van mìjn.… ik hep ’r mooie huisjes bij
gezet.… voor jullie.… twee kamers gelijkvloers.… twee bove.…
zolder.… schuur.… ruim.. maar mooie.… jonge koopies!.… Maar
apropos.… hoe zit ’t met m’n rekening vader! Ik mot nou vange man!
Je weet, nog ’n paar dage,.. of als de aarbeie ’r zijn?

Ouë Gerrit had gevoeld, angstig, dat ’t daar op uitdraaien zou. Daar
had je ’t gedonder al. Wa nou.… Wa-nou! [318]Angstig in z’n stoel
gedrukt keek ie van z’n paarse kousen, naar Troost òp, die met ’t vet
van z’n onderkin speelde, in plooien-wellust.

—Joà.… hoho!.… hoho!.… kaik uwes d’rais.… uwes weut.… slecht

joar.…

—Ha.. ha! zeg vader! Kom nou niet met die praatjes.… ken ik
waarachtig àl te goed.… dat is met iedere rekening zoo.… nee
vadertje,.… we zulle nog eens ’n hypotheekie klaarmake … van ’t
lapje achter je huis … bij m’n zwager … Dat kost je van akte opmake
niet veel, ’n vijfentwintig poppies.… jij heb dan vrij spul.… en ik hoef
niet tot de aarbeie te wachte.…

Ouë Gerrit werd groen-bleek van schrik.

—Moar dokter.… uwes runiweert main!… ikke sit t’r puur in.… de
rekening is te hoog hoho!… ’n gulde per siefiete!.… en
honderdseventig pop.… en nou nog van akte vaif.…

—Papperlepap vader! dacht je dat ik je voor jullie plezier hielp.… en

de medicijnen die je van me hebt.. verkoop jij je boel voor niks? ik
zou maar wat koest zijn als ’k jou was, he?.… Door mìjn blijf je dit
jaar nog op de Beek, anders hadde je d’r al lang afgesmete.… Je
weet dat ik kommesaris voor kerkbestuur ben van weiland.… je weet
dat ik je je grond onder je voete kan wegtrekke, als ik wil.… dat weet
je àl je grond! En nou zou je mijn rekening niet willen voldoen. Niet
een die jullie volkje zoo netjes behandelt als ik.… En stank voor
dank.… Natuurlijk! Nou dat aktetje komt morge in orde, ik heb ’t m’n
zwager al gezegd.… anders gaat je boel eran.
—Moar dokter.… had u main.… nie effe eerstig kenne vroage.… ik
sit ’r soo kras in, dâ.…

—Wàt?.. ik weet toch, dat je niks hebt.. Soo is ’t goed hoor vader.…
best.… Allons donc! Wat zit je daar nou of je geen tien kan telle.…
Nou.. je wijf zie ik van middag, adieu! adieu! ’t beste hoor!

Ouë Gerrit was langzaam opgesjord van z’n stoel, voelde, dat dokter
’m kwijt wou zijn. Troost had uit de bovengang [319]z’n hoed van den
kapstok gelicht, was Hassel voorgegaan naar beneden.

Dokter’s rijtuig stond klaar.—In de apotheek groette ie vluchtig wat

menschen, die recepten halen kwamen, en eerbiedig voor dokter uit
den weg schuifelden.

In livrei-glimsel, stond vóór z’n koetsier, met knop van portier in de

hand. Voorzichtig kippiglijk stapte dokter in. Voort ging z’n rijtuig,
waggelde ’t zware lijf van dokter op de makkelijke bank, tegen de
fluweel-donkere kussens van den kaprug.—

Wat ezelstom volkje, vrolijkte ’t in ’m. Die denken maar, dat je voor
niets werkt, dat je ’s nachts voor ze klaarstaat, als ’t een er maar
invalt je te laten roepen. Wat zal ik ’m krijgen.

Van alle kanten, uit z’n open rijtuig, groette joviaal-doenerig, dokter
Troost. Met z’n log bebakkebaarden kop, kippig enkelen nakijkend,
deftigde ie door de tuinderswijkjes, in z’n lichtgrijs pak, z’n blank
schittervest, met z’n licht-grijzen hoed, geheel doortrokken van
rustige, rijke zomerweelde, heerschend in z’n stedeke-notabelheid
over allen.
[Inhoud]

IV.

’s Middags zat dokter Troost bij Gerrit, tegenover vrouw Hassel, die
’m wezenloos bestaarde, niet begreep, waarom die man ’r telkens
vragen deed, wat ie van ’r wilde.—Met z’n rug naar ’t raam zat
dokter, zich peinzend wrijvend onder de vetkin, vrouw Hassel vlàk
voor ’m, twee vingers van ’r blauwig doorpeesde stekelhand, in ’r
kwijlmond versabbelend. Haar steekmuts plakte slonzerig scheef op
’r uitfladderend vuil-grijs haar, oogen doften star. Om ’r kwijlmond
groefde in stillen kreun ’n droefnisrek, waar d’r verstand al niet meer
aan mee deed. Soms heél even, flitste ’r angstlicht in de oogappels,
dofte daarna weer haar wezenlooze kijk, erger. Gelig-smoezelig
magerde ’r hals, met ver-uitstekenden beverigen keelkrop. Uit ’n
vies-zwart jak, van boven knooploos afflodderend, propte ’n stuk van
smerigen borstrok òp.— [320]

Dokter Troost bleef ’r stil bekijken, schudde soms even zwak, z’n log
hoofd. Dirk en Piet waren op hun kousen, met wasemende
zweetgezichten de kamer ingeloopen, en Guurt met handen op ’r zij
geoorkruikt, stond naast den dokter. Ouë Gerrit zat beverig en
angstig tegen over Troost. Op tafel bij ’t raam, vonkte uitgeschulpt
karafje met konjak, kristallig, in groen-rooie lichtspatjes, op dofrood
boersch-stug blaadje en deftig-stil ernaast, pronkten wat grove
kelkjes, rustig glanzend in zonschijn.

—Nou moedertje, zwaar sprak Troost, en zeg nou eens wat

verder.…

—Wâ.… wâ?.… schrok ze op, wâ segt u?.… gansch vergeten wie

voor ’r zat.—
—Sacré nom, quelle misère! bromde dokter voor zich uit, ja.. wat?
wat?.. Heb je nog zoo ’n drukking hier?.… hé?..

—Joa.… joa.… beefde ’r stem.

—Hier, an je slape ook? en hier, op je achterhoofd, en daar bij je

neuswortel, en.…

—Joa.. joa.… wâ?.. wâ?..—Niets wist ze meer wat dokter gevraagd

had.—

Dokter keek juist òp naar Guurt, toen ouë Gerrit ’m aanzag, dìe juist
snapte, dat ie z’n meid lievige knikjes gaf.—

—Niks an te doen, brommerig gromde Troost’s stem.… is in ’n half

jaar schrikkelijk verergerd.… kollega Zwanke heeft gelijk!.…
beroerd.… beroerd.…

Stiller bromde ie in zichzelven, dat niemand ’m meer hoorde, noch

storen durfde met vragen in z’n diagnostisch gepeins.… Beroerd..
dementie.… nou mooi! afgedaan!.. jonge.… jonge wat ’n meid die
Guurt! dat was er nou eens een, daar had je wat an.… jonge.… die
most nou eens zijn huishoudster worde!.. kijk.… die schape je
angape.… Nou.… dat wijf gaat kapot! oud-nieuws!

—Ja, ja! hm! hm! klonk uit z’n zacht gebrom scherper òp. Ja Hassel,
is in ’n korten tijd zeer, zeer verergerd.… ’n droevig geval, zeer, zéér
droevig. Houd je maar taai, want dat is noodig! En jij Guurt, jij mot
maar de huishouding heelemaal [321]op je neme.. hoor beste meid!
En laat moeder vooral met geen petroleumstel omgaan.… of met
geld.…

—Joa.… zei Guurt.… wai hebbe ’r vast ’n kluif an!

—Soo! soo! nou laat ’r geen dinge doen, die gevaar kunne
veroorzake.… doe jij ’t liever.…—Guurt had ie schijn-ongemerkt ’n
knijpje in arm-dik geperst, met vriendelijk-zinnelijk lachje.

Vrouw Hassel sufte, wezenloos in ’r staar, niet beseffend wat ’r

gebeurde, ziend de menschen om ’r heen, telkens weer ze
vergetend, tòt ’r stemmen opklankten. Ze hoorde wel, maar zoo erg
was ’r bewustzijn geslonken, dat ze nog sneller vergat dan ze
hoorde. Even soms flitste ’r angstlicht in ’r oogen, keek ze bewuster,
alsof ze ’n stoot kreeg in den rug, of ’n prik in ’r lichaam. Kwijl slijmde
langs ’r mond, glom morsig over ’r natte kin. Armelijk ingehurkt en
verzakt, zat ze op puntje van ’r stoelzitting. Niet één der kinders, die
besefte, iets van ’r verkwijning en angsten. Ze zagen ’r vergrauwen
als ’n half-verrottend meubel, dat in elkaar getrapt en opgeruimd
moest worden, dat in den weg stond. Haar doffe staar verveelde,
beangstigde hun, verlamde vroolijkheid en stoeilust soms. Haar
angstige opspringing vond ouë Gerrit malle aanstellerij en Guurt
vooral nijdigde bits van zich af, als ze zich bevuild had, en geen
besef meer toonde om ’r eigen lijf te wasschen. Godsliederlijk lui en
gemakzuchtig, heette ’t Guurt, en ze wou ’t wijf niet langer in huis
hebben.

Gevoelloos in z’n rauwe wellustnatuur bleef Troost nog wat plakken,

paf van Guurt. Even broeide in z’n heet brein ’n plan. Als ie ’t wijf
eens onderzocht, haar liet uitkleeën, die gapende stomme kerels
verzocht heen te gaan, voor ’n kwartiertje hem alleen te laten met
Guurt, voor hulp. Maar luidruchtig, midden in z’n stille, heete
bedenkingen over Guurt, die Gerrit en de jongens aanvoelden als
ernstig bepeins over zieke moeder, kwam geklop op straatdeurtje, en
stemmeklank rumoerend:

—Is dokter hier?.… Ja he? Ik zag juist z’n rijtuig buiten staan.. hm!
moet ’m effe spreeke..—Onder rijkelui’s-keelrumoer, [322]stapte ’n
meneer in, kassier, geldleener en bankman; Stramme, zwager van
Troost.

—Donders, daar had je z’n zwager, da speet ’m nou donders, roet in

’t eten.

Guurt was naar meneer Frans Stramme geloopen,

komplimenteerderig, deftig doend en lacherig. Ze wist wel, ze voelde
’t, dat de heeren ’r mooi vonden, om hààr kwamen, en heerlijk vond
ze’t zoo bekeken te worden, gevleid, toegeknipt en beknepen, met
lieve handdrukjes. Ze had ’r zich voor opgedirkt vandaag, zoo’n
uurtje vóór dat dokter komen moest. Ze konden ’r beschateren de
jongens, maar daar gaf ze niks om.—Zij zou hèn uitlachen als ze
eenmaal ’n kerel met duiten had aangehaakt.—En nou, zingen kon
ze van de pret, dat de rijkdom van Wiereland zoo maar in ’r huis
stond.

—Toe goan u sitte, meneer Stramme, dokter blaift nog.

—Ja zeker.. beste meid.… kuch-stemde ie, en negeerend den stoet

om ’m heen, tot Troost,—’t is goed dat ik je tref, ik moet je daar
dadelijk spreke.…

—Ja, ja! ik kom, ik ga mee..—Nou moedertje.… hou je maar goed.…

zal wel betere eer je ’n kerel wordt.… Sacré nom, quelle misère.…
perste ie, met gemaakt-versteld gezicht naar zwager Stramme eruit.

Hij had zich van z’n stoel met paf geluid, als kraakte z’n zwaar lijf,
opgeheschen. Z’n zwager was niet gaan zitten, stond brutaal rond te
kijken, uitdagend en machtig zich voelend in dat duffige
tuindersgezin. Vlak voor ’t gezicht van Dirk had ie zich neergeplant
zonder excuus, wiebelend op z’n teenen naar hakken, hakken naar
teenen. Blufferig hingen z’n blanke manchetten half z’n mouwen uit,
fijn grijsde z’n zomerpak en onbescheiden loerden z’n oogen achter
gouên lorgnet, met fijn zwart koord vast om z’n hals. Lust voelde ie
om te schateren, toen ouë Hassel, beverig, op ’t stugge boeren-
presenteerblaadje ’n konjakje kwam aanbieden, dat ie joviaal
weigerde. Dokter stond nog wat te bedisselen met Guurt, die fijntjes
lachte.—En òver de hoofden der stille, landlucht uitwasemende
kerels heen, die stonden in één houding, in ’t donker [323]van ’t
vertrekje, sprak meneer Stramme weer z’n zwager aan: of ie klaar
was en meeging. Jaloersch ’n beetje ook, dat Troost de mooie meid
daar vóór hem stond te bekneuteren met zoete woordjes en lievige
stem-lachies.

Vrouw Hassel, in ’t licht met ’r stoel, had ie nauwelijks gezien, maar

toen ie in-één op ’r suf gezicht keek, en ’r natte oogen zag die
staarden, huiverde ie van afschuw en viezigheid.

En Troost, sluw en doortastend, beuls-brutaal en heerscher bij z’n

tuinderslui, wist wel dat z’n zwager ’n stommeling was, alleen veel
geld had, vertrouwde hem niet alleen met Guurt. Hij kon ’r wel voor
zijn neus wegpikken. Guurt zelf stond te gloeien, hoog-rood van
opwinding. Die prachtige kostuums van de heeren, die manchetten,
die hoeden, dat witte vest van dokter, die grijze pakken.… Groote
genade aa’s sai d’r is soo één uit de deftighaid kon inpalmen. Ze kon
maar niet afblijven van den grijzen vilthoed, dien ze, onder ’t
spreken, in de hand hield, drukte en aaide.—Van Guurt eindelijk was
dokter Troost nog even naar ouë Gerrit geloopen, stond daar voor
’m, met handen achterwaarts, in lendenen gesteund, z’n wit vestbuik
vooruit. In bangelijke houding, krommig gebukt, stond Hassel aan te
hooren, al maar knikkend met z’n hoofd, dat z’n baard danste op z’n
kiel.

Dokter had ’m ’n recept gegeven, voor drie soorten medicijnen.… en

spuitgereedschap, alles in zijn apotheek verkrijgbaar. Meteen had ie
gezegd, dat ’t hypotheekje door z’n zwager, notaris Breemsma, was
klaargemaakt, dat ie maar gauw moest komen „teekenen,” al kon ie
niet schrijven en de getuigen voor het aktetje door hèm waren
besteld. Nog drukte ie ’m op het hart vooral de vijfentwintig pop
direkt mee te nemen omdat z’n zwager geen lust had, z’n
hypothekair erbij te rekenen. En ouë Gerrit schudde maar met z’n
angstig bedremmeld gezicht, doodelijk benauwd, zonder kracht tot
verzet.

In drukkerig stemgeraas en onder liefdoenerige geleiding van Guurt,

die hoog-rood wang-glansde van genot, waren de heeren uitgestapt,
en weggereeën.—Met gloei-gezicht stapte Guurt de kamer weer in,
naklank van streelerige, zinnelijk-kirrende [324]lokkerijtjes van dokter
nog in ’r ooren, zich licht bedwelmd voelend, als was ze begoten met
eau-de-cologne, als rook ze niets anders, den ganschen dag.
Vriendelijk keek ze zelfs naar ’r moeder, die hààr bestaarde, maar
niet zàg.

In de kamer, na dokters vertrek, loomde stilte.—Ouë Hassel keek

verachtelijk naar z’n vrouw, die in één houding, stil op ’r stoel te
sterven zat. In stommen Dirk giftte wat ingesmoorde woede op
branie van meneer Stramme, die zonder ’m zelfs te groeten, pal voor
z’n neus was gaan staan, in de kamer. Kees, vreemd alleen blijvend
op ’t land, niet begrijpend waar de kerels zóó lang bleven, was ook
even ’t vertrek ingestapt. Guurt had meteen de mannen ’n bak koffie
voorgezet. Ouë Gerrit slobberde gretig ’t dampige, slappe afbaksel.
—

—Jai ook ’n boakkie, hee moeder?—vroeg Guurt, met trillende stem,

van napret nog.

—Wà’.… wá’?

—’n Boàkkie? zeg-wees ze naar ’t komfoortje.…

—Joa.… joa.. gulzigden ’r handen al vooruit. Dat was ’r troost, gaf ’r
lekkere, zoete hitte.—Beverig zette ze vollen kom aan ’r mond, zoog
ze òp in gulzige slobbering, ’t bruine sopje, zoetig smakkend, met
dorre tong tegen lippengrauw.—

—Nou, en nou bi’k aife wais hee?.… zei ouë Gerrit plots stug, met ’n
bonk z’n kom op tafel stootend.… hoho! wa nou?.…

Kees keek beteuterd op ’t ingeslonken kopgrauw van z’n moeder. ’n

Minuut was ie ’r stil van. Zoo had ie ’r tijên niet gezien. Vandaag was
’t den eersten keer in jaren, dat ie de woning van z’n vader weer
ingestapt was.

—Dá’ kost nou je duute,.. stugde die voort, iederder besoek ’n

pop!.… morrege komp ie terug hep ie sait.… huhu.… en
of’rmorrege!.… en of’rof’rmorrege.… hoho!.… en soo goan ie
veurt.… sel je sien.… En Guurt mot twee drankies en poeiers
tegelaik hoale.…

—Moar stommeling! sprong Kees inéén woest op, zien jullie dan nie
da die skoelje d’r ’n sloatje van moakt?.… Jullie bin ommers ’n vetje
veur sàin, ’n kalfkoetje.… ’t is netuurlik [325]s’n aigeste oapeteek.…
hai skraift moar roak.… Morrige komp ie t’rug.… skraift ie weer.
Snôf’rjenne.… ik sou sain d’r uuttrappe.…

Ouë Gerrit was van ’t raam, op z’n arm-stompen gemakstoel gezakt,

starend de lucht in, zonder nog ’n woord te zeggen. Duifje uit hoekje,
stil, in glans van veertjes, koerde zacht, vèr, klagelijk.—

—Daa’s net, gromde driftig Dirk, daa’s net.… dá’ wai dâ nie docht
hebbe.…

Maar Piet was ’t niet ééns.

—Nou daa’s ook ’n mooie.… sel dokter soo moàr gaife aa’s je nie
noodig hep?

—Jou skoàpskop, lachte nijdig Kees, dá’ hoor je t’met of’ral

eenderlai, dá’-tie altait en altait vaif keer te veul gaift.… en dá’-tie
komp, dèur komp, aa’s de minse al lang weer bestig sain.…

—En hai gaift moar, hai skraift moar, gromde Dirk mee.

—Netuurlik! viel Kees weer in, tut ’t aêre joar.… kraig je je print aa’s
tie tog selfers s’n oapeteek hep … hep tie ommers soo langest aa’s
tie wil.… hai is tog nog de eenigste mi oapeteekie.… is tog
ofskoft!.…

—F’rduufeld g’laik, driftte Dirk opgewondener, t’met van de heule

ploas hoor je dá’ de kerel nie van de grond is of te dwaile.… hai plakt
aa’s ’n klomp in ’je hai.…

Ouë Gerrit hoorde onrustiger toe, staarde door naar de lucht, wel
voelend dat Kees gelijk had. Maar dat juist maakte ’m woedender.
Want hij kòn, kòn nooit ofte nimmer àf van Troost, zooals ie niet
àfkon van z’n zwager, den notaris. Die hadden ’m in d’r klauwen,
ijzer, ijzervast … Sàin nie allainig, allegoar!.…

—Enne veur wá’ goan je nie nà dokter Zwanke, die hep s’n arme-
rotsooi van gemainte pas an dokter Troost of’rdaan.. dá’ komp
Zwanke!.. verduufeld ’n jonge dokter.. pas ’n poar joar hier, moar ’n
bliksems-rechskoape kerel.… en ook mi’ sonder aige oapeteek.. en
nooit komp ie ’n keer teveul.… je kraigt puur nies niemendal
drankies van sain … en frindelik.. [326]sien je.… gesmaird.. fain..
netjes.… netjes!.… of goàn d’r noa dokter Moas.… se kukkerint.…
nog altaid bestiger aa’s hai.…
—Daa’s net, zei Dirk weer, verbaasd kijkend om Kees’
spreekradheid, hij die anders nooit wat zei.

Maar de Ouë was opgesprongen nu, driftig, bleek van gift.

—Wa’ jai?.… wa’ hai jai d’r mee van noodig? wá’ mo’ jai je bek d’r
in? Van sàin af?.. ke’k dâ! ke’k dâ?.… Si’k nie an sàin
vastspaikert.… netoaris is hèms swager.… die kraigt.… seker paa’s
’n joar sain losgeld?.… nooit nog ’n sint afdoan.… die hep al main
pachtaktes, main koopaktes.… nooit hep ie die main wille afstoan.…
die hep main hiepeteek! aa’s ’k van Troost noar Zwanke goan.…
stuurt ie main rekening tuus.… Die hooge goàste.… sitte t’met
allegoar an malkoar vast.… hoho! viere en vaife en nie g’nog!.. daa’s
één klus.… sel ’k moar segge.… enne al wa dokter sait komp ’r
deur.… woar je komp.… sit ie in.… en s’n swoager is d’r wethouër.…
rechterhand van burgemeester.… aa’s je an d’een komp.… bran je
d’aêr.… hu! hu! viere en vaife en nie genog.… sullie hewwe main
vast.… vàst!.… stikkevàst.… aa’s ik main roer.… stoan ’k op
stroat!.…

Z’n stem sloeg over in gillerige stoot-woorden. Driftig heen en weer

ging z’n lijf door de kamer, bochelden z’n schouders meer òp, rukte
ie aan z’n baard en lokken.

Driftiger beende ie voorbij vrouw Hassel, die achteruitschoof op ’r

stoel, met bang oogenlicht dat opflitste, telkens als Gerrit d’r voorbij
donkerde, alsof ze voelde, met woestig angst-instinkt, dat ie haar wel
slaan wou.

De kerels slobberden weer stil uit hun koffiekoppen, door Guurt

volgeschonken. Ja, ze wisten wel dat Troost heerschte in Wiereland,
als ’n god, dat van hem alles afhing bijna. Dat ie met al wat landheer
was op besten voet stond, dat één woordje van hem, genoeg was
om ze in alles te bemoeilijken. Dat ie ze ook bij die heeren in
bescherming kon nemen, en kleine vooruitgangetjes voor hen
aftroggelen, als ie wou. Ze [327]wisten ’t wel, maar ze beseften ’t
maar heel zelden en dàn nog met angstigheid in ’t hart.

’t Hoorde nou eenmaal, met ontzag naar dokter, notaris, bankman,

op te kijken, dat moest zoo maar blijven. En gretig heerschte Troost,
met z’n familie-vertakking, over Wiereland en omtrek, ’t sterkst onder
arbeiders en pachtersvolkje. Vooral notaris heerschte mee, waar ze
nog grooter angst-ontzag voor voelden. Want die baas-speelde nog
direkter over hun wel en wee, over hun grond en pacht, hun schuld
en rekening, aktes en hypotheekjes. Die kon ze wat voorgoochelen
met cijfers, waarbij ’t hun ging duizelen. Die deed in hun koppen
angsten ontstaan, van allerlei soorten. Angst voor landheer, angst
voor borgstelling, voor pacht, voor koop en verkoop. Die kon ze laten
wachten op zaken en afhandeling van akten, dat ze de heele boel
bedierf, verliep. Die kon ze bevoorrechten, weer achteruittrappen,
sarren en de noodschroeven aanzetten, al naar ie bliefde. Flauw
beseften er enkelen, dat notaris, dokter, bankenman hier rijk werden,
van hùn arbeid. Want luider ging ’t gemompel, dat dokter arm
gekomen was in de streek, voor veertig jaar, en nou rijk pronkte,
schatrijk, z’n equipage uitstalde, zoo goed als notaris Breemsma; dat
hìj, in z’n praktijk uitgezogen had de pachterskliek en kleine
burgertjes; dat hij zwol, vetter wier van hùn sappen. Er ging soms
onderdrukt gegrom. Ze wisten wel, maar durfden niet spreken,
dùrfden niet. Ze likten liever zoo’n man met macht, ze aaiden,
paaiden ’m, bogen, kropen voor ’m, belasterden, bespogen hun
makkers om wit voetje bij notaris of dokter. Godsdiensthaat barstte
los op kantoor, bij notaris, die er stil van profiteerde. Alle nieuwtjes
van elkaar kwamen ze hèm brengen en voor loon, zoog ie ze uit,
nog meer. Ootmoedig groetten zij rijkdoorvoede, geurende kinders
van notaris, dokter, notabelen-familie. Alleen, in dronkemansbuien,
onder het schoremst werkstelletje barstte opgepropte haat los tegen
dokter, notaris, burgervader. Bij kermisopstootjes en vechtpartijtjes
op feestdag-avonden, schroeide en woelde haat en scheld-woede
tegen notabelen rond, jeukten de knuisten om ’r op los te hakken,
ging er een [328]stroom van nijd en afgunst, verzet en dierlijk gegrom
door het zuipende, lollende volk rond, ’t lagere, verschooierde,
werkelooze, dat notaris, dokter en burgervader zèlfs, bangelijk uit
den weg ging, toch wel wetend, dat ’t maar bij wat stuiptrekken bleef.
En als één tuindertje of kweekertje waagde driftig te worden, wat te
schelden op dokter en notaris, werd ’t overgebracht, stond de heele
kliek tegen ’m als één man. Waar ie kwam, stootte ie dàn z’n kop.…
voelde ze zich verlamd en geknakt in z’n handelsrelaties, tot ie weer
kroop, excuus maakte, likte, likte, zich loenschig vernederend als
geen ander. Kleine, schuchtere werkstemmetjes van onmondig,
stomp stoetje ploeteraars en aardwroeters werden gesmoord. En in
den Raad, stedeke-raadje, middeleeuwsch kliekje van boerige,
bekrompen verstandjes, waartusschen ’n enkele scherp kijkende en
sprekende, die listiglijk ontzien werd, of uitgestooten, troonde
burgemeester, burgervader, achterlijk stompzinnige, gekroond en
versierd met adellijk naampje, waarvoor gekniebuigd werd, hoedjes
en petjes gelicht. Van hèm ging onderdrukking van „welvarend”
plaatsje ùit, koel en wettelijk. Enkelen pruttelden wel over barre
stommiteiten van burgervader, die met z’n officieel, nooit-
glimlachend, strak-leelijk gezicht, door de straatjes en wijken liep,
zich voelende als ’n afgezant Gods; enkelen joolden wel om
stumperige kleinheid en bekrompen brein-nietigheid van dit
mannetje-één, uit de burgerij; enkelen gierden wel in stilte, om z’n
malle airtjes van politiehoofd en stedeke-heerschertje, die alles te
leeren had van z’n scherpzinnigen gemeente-sekretaris, praktijk en
theorie. Maar zóó, in ’t openbaar, boog men voor hem, man van
adel, man van dubbelen naam.

En Kees heelemaal vergroeid en verwoest, kon niks zeggen. Hij

schooier.… wat wou hij?.… hij die te hongeren lag om ’n cent.
Maar diep, diep in ’m brulde, gierde wild-woest verzet, tegen ’t
stelletje dat ie verdoemde, in z’n wraak-borst, zonder dat ie ’n letter
zeggen, spreken kon. Als ie aan Wimpie’s gezicht dacht, dien
stumper daar neergesmakt, begon ’t al erger in ’m [329]te gieren,
voelde ie ’n onrecht, hem, hèm alleen aangedaan; dacht ie, dat de
rijken nooit dàt, die ellende hadden. Nooit nog had Guurt es gezegd:
„laat ik Wimpie ereis zien”, of een ander uit ’t vuile nest. Hij wist, dat
Ant ze verboden had er te gaan, bij die ketters, en dat zij Ant
verafschuwde om ’r vuilen, valschen nijd. Maar ’t griefde ’m, griefde
’m diep, dat niet één van zijn bloed, naar z’n Wimpie ooit vroeg. ’t
Griefde ’m, hij kon ’r om uitbarsten, zwaar vloek-hameren van nijd.

In stikwoede was ie mee opgeloopen met de kerels, naar ’t land.

Door z’n werk zou ie zich koelen aan den grond.

Tot ’t late licht ze verschemeren kwam, wroetten ze weer in de

zandaarde, met gezichten in één donkeren buk naar den grond, in
haastenden arbeid en werkjacht, als krom-gegroeide beesten,
voortschuivend tusschen het rondom wijd-weg-drijvend, diepe
goudlicht van lenteavond, pracht van glanzen en lichtspel. [330]

[Inhoud]
 ELFDE HOOFDSTUK.

Met wilden schrik in z’n oogen kwam ouë Gerrit ’n paar dagen later
op ’t land, achter z’n huis uit, op Dirk en Piet àf die tusschen de
boonen schoffelden. Kees hurkte op ’t paadje, met z’n groote
handen snel tusschen het sierfijn uitgeknipt wortelenloof, wiedend.

—Nou maa’ne, klonk ontsteld Gerrit’s stem, daa’s ’n bakkie! Hoho.…

hoho!.… ’t raip in de heule keet oarebaiê.… op ’t Duin bai de
oarepels!.…

Z’n stem beefde. Meer kon ie niet uitbrengen van ontroering, keek ie
pal in verbaasde oogen van Dirk.

—De heule keet!?.… tien aggele?.… donderejenne.… komp gain

duut van t’regt.…

—Wà hoek, vroeg Piet suffig na, die al broeide in de warme zon, en
kreukeltjes trok in z’n gezicht, als om beter te verstaan.

—Nou de heule hoek in ’t Duin.… hoho! heule blad f’rvrete!.… aa’s

kittels stonge de vruchies.

—Main kristus, riep Dirk, nu pas angstig bewust wordend de schade,

daa’s ’n bakkie, dá’ mo’k sien!!.… da’ mo’k hoàring of kuit van
hebbe!.…

—Sien?.… sien?.… huhu! d’r is niks te sien.… en wait òp sitte de

slakke hier duimdik in de kole.… Rooit noà niks! noa niks!

—Moar, komp ’r t’met rege, schreeuwde Piet, bestig veur ’t raip!

Bezorgde klank zat ’r in ’t gepraat. Dàt was oogstverlies! Ouë Gerrit
voelde dubbele benauwing. Voor zich uitstarend suffig, stond ie te
berekenen hoeveel ’m dat schelen kon.… [331]Most ’n meroakel-
slechte oogst worde.—En midden in z’n gepeins en onrustig
gereken, schoot knaging, dat ie zich dat zelf gelapt had.… Hai was
ommirs ’n dief.… ’n gannef!..

Star stond ie, met rooien kop van angstigen bloed-aandrang te

rukken aan z’n baard. Stil, met iets van bang ontzag, bleven de
jongens, de schoffels in de hand, ’m bekijken. Dat maakte Gerrit
onrustiger nog. Hij voelde, dat ze wisten wat ie dee.. aêrs souë se
sain nie soo ankaike.… godskristus.… Wà’ stonge die kerels dà’
f’rsloàge noa sain te loere.… noa sàin..

Nou saie sullie niks, om Kees.… moar ’t sou komme.… Jesis! da’
skeulde sain t’met ’n poar honderd pop!.… dà was nie bai te
rooie!.… nooit nie.… nooit nie!.… Hoho! die kerels.… dà kaike noar
sàin.… Ja nou, da’ voelde ie.… sullie hadde dokter ook sproke.…
die hep ook sien.… en sain waif.… en Guurt.… en alderlai
volk!.….…..

Angst, zware angst, klauterde weer naar z’n strot. Van de heele vrije
lucht om ’m, kon ie nog maar heel kleine teugjes inademen. Rond
z’n keel, schroefde benauwing; lichter luchthaaltjes gingen er nog
net even door, met moeite, als of ie stikken moest.—De
manschappen waren langzaam weer aan ’t werk gegaan. Met groote
passen liep ouë Gerrit tusschen de regels en bedden in. Bij de put
op ’t erf, zag ie vrouw Hassel staan, met kousen in ’r handen. Haar
grauw-suf gezicht maakte ’m woedend.… Dat waif was z’n armoe.…
en dá’ die vervloekte Kees op ’t land werkte; ongeluk lai op ’t huis!.…
Dá’ waif kostte sain geld.… En sai.… sai.… sai hep sien s’n
spulle.… dà’ loeder!.… da’ loeder.… nou sou die ’r de kop kenne
splaite.… aa’s tie moar mocht!.… mi’ de skoffel op ’r pins hakke.…
want sai hep loert.… sai hep f’rteld.…

Razende drift kwam in ’m opduizelen.… Tien aggele honderde

guldens kwait, mit de koole.… puur kwait!.… En niks om te
betoale!.… nou most ie poere en teekene veur s’n dokter-skuld,—
veur ’t waif.… veur Piet’s been.… veur drankies!.… ho! ho!.… daa’s
Kees op ’t huis, dá’ komp ’t al uut!.… dá’ komp ’t al uut! [332]

Dirk en Piet keken naar de driftstappen van den Ouë. Nooit hadden
ze ’m zoo bleek en woest-vertrokken van gezicht gezien, bij ’n oogst-
tegenvaller.

—Nou Ouë.… wá’ hai je? Je sien puur ’n laik! hou je kalm! aa’s ’t
eene teuge loopt, loopt miskien vaif mee, goeiigde Dirk.

—En de sinte!.… de sinte!.… de dokter hep weer ’n hypeteekie

nome op main grond.… veur skuld van moeder en Piet.… en de
sinte.… aa’s d’r strak-en-an de landheer komp!.… bai màin hoale
sullie de sinte.… jullie suip moar.. suip moar.. hep lol in
Amsterdam.… ho! ho!.… ho! ho! jullie gokt d’r op los.… moar ikke.…
ikke stoan d’r veur.… aa’s de boel veur de wereld lait!.…

Woest staarde z’n vergramd kindergezicht de kerels áán. Nijdig,

ingekrampt, met grauw-bleeken kop, liep ie ’t erf op achter-end in,
om wat te drinken.

Guurt met ’r rokken de hoogte ingesjord, in knoopsel achter haar

schortbanden, klomp-kloste drentelig en druk op ’t beklinkerde
erfstraatje, sjouwde met kommen en waterbakken heen en weer,
bukte telkens,—met één been stevig neergeplant op den grond, het
andere, wijd opgelicht in kuitstrekking,—over put heen, in rammelige
bonken wateremmertjes òpbeurend en leegspattend in klettering
over ’t straatje. Om ’r heen klaterde en bruiste ’t water. Ze schrobde
in zwaren boen, forsch, met d’r dik-bloote armen in heftige stooten
vóór- en achteruit, dat harige bezemborstel griste, siste en schuurde,
’r zwaar lijf te waggelen stond van drukke doenigheid. Den Ouë had
ze net zien aanhollen, bleek en haastig.—

—Wa’ is dur? zong met Wierelandsche intonatie ’r stem.

Gerrit was doorgeloopen, zonder antwoord, recht op ’t achterend af,

met verblufte achterlating van stomp-neuzige klompen tegen
drempeltje.—’t Maalde en draaide in z’n kop, of ie zoo ’n beroerte
zou krijgen. Vast en seker gong ie noar de grond. Nou mòst ie
dood.… dood!.… Daar had ie nou juist angst voor, schrikkelijke,
klemmende angst, die vastschroefde iets in z’n keel, dat ie geen
lucht kon krijgen; die zwaar plette op [333]z’n handen, z’n armen, z’n
beenen.—En tusschen z’n angst, zalig verlangen toch naar z’n
spullen.… Nou ie zooveul had kon ie s’n aige nog betere.… Kort
maar bleef ’t gevoel voor z’n goed. Gauw overrompelde ’m weer
wilde angst, nauw keel-toepersend gedreig om ’m heen, van
allemaal dingen waar ie vroeger nooit ’n minuut aan gedacht had.…
Waar z’n spullen zouën blijven, als ie dood was? of onze lieve Heer
’m zou ranselen, dat ie ’r bij neerviel?.… of Dirk, of Piet ’t eerst z’n
spullen zouen zien?.… En of slechte aardbeien met rijp nog wat
konden opbrengen.… En of ie met z’n baard voor onze lieve Heer
verscheen?.… Zoo, dolle gedachten duizelden door z’n kop, en
benauwings-toeschroeving van z’n strot, erger, stikkender. En overal
holde dreig-angst met ’m mee, wààr ie ’n stap deed. Angsten, als ’n
altijd omringende macht van zorg-schimmen, waar ie naar greep, die
ie wou wegduwen, maar vervloeiden in z’n handen, door z’n vingers;
toch strak-zwijgend weer om hem heenstonden, als ie keek. Of ie z’n
oogen sloot of open deed, dat hielp niets. Altijd bleef ie ze zien, met
oogen dicht, nog duidelijker en zwarter. ’t Bangst maakte ’m de
angst-beklemming op z’n maag, dat ’r noodzweet op z’n gezicht
klamde. Dat was doodskramp, benauwde ’t in ’m, druk van den
duivel. Z’n hoofd voelde ie woelen in iets lauws, vochtigs, dat àl
sterker verhitte, tot ’t ging gloeien, koortsen, branden op z’n huid,
wangen en hals, en dan plots afkoelde om nà ’n paar minuten weer
áán te gloeien.

Maar hij zou wel bedaren, suste ie zichzelf weer, rillend in

kakebeving. Nooit had ie ’r toch om gegeven.… Veur wá’ noù
wel?.… aa’s sullie moar niks wiste.… aa’s tie sullie moar beet had.…
aa’s tie sullie allegoar moar ’n loertje kon droaie.… God ook’n
loertje.… want gekkighaid.… die kon nie overal te g’laik saine.… Dá’
was puur malligheid om je bang van te moàke … aa’s hai ’s nachts in
de kelder was gonge.. had ie puur pal ’t luikie veur ’t roampie set.…
hep onse lieve Heer vast nie sien kenne.… moar aa’s God.… aa’s
God nou erais sàin die sorge had toebedeeld?.… Kon die moar
skraive.. en lese!.… hoho! kon die moar.… Dan sou ie sien.… [334]of
dá’ in de baibel stong .… enne of d’r vroeger ook sulleke minse
weust binne aa’s hai!.. Nee.… tug nie lese.… miskien stong dur, dat
ie nog meer, nog meer onhail kraige most!.… Bai s’n broer stong
alles goed.… tien voet van sain of.… Dá’ was woarskuw van God.…
Moar.… moar.… huhu! aa’s tie nou es,.. bai Grim keek.… da’ stong
alles in ’t raip.. sou die.… sou die ook soo gannefe aa’s hai?.… Sou
die?.. Moar die had wel de duufel in, moar.… tug nie bang aa’s
hai!.… Nie bang.… sel ie moar segge.. en niks niemedal gain angst
in s’n strot.… soo klam.… soo in doôssweet, aa’s hai. Enne bai
Reeker.… hewwe muise.… twee bed bolle affrete!.… En.…
kaike?.… hoe stong die d’rbai?.. Joa.… woedend aa’s die was.…
netuurlik.… Enne bai de Grouw.… oarepelestruike doodvrore.…
Hoho! Neenet!.… hai was ’t puur nie allainig. Nou had ie nie allain.…
nie koorakter!.… Nou.… hai sou moar bedoàre.… ’t was puur niks!
kaik.… nou was ie weer kalm!.… Enne nie bleek ook … Nee.. moar
aa’s tie dá’ gevoel had.. dá’ bai s’n moag.. hu! wà benauwd!.… aa’s
tie nou erais dood most.… En was d’r nou ’n hel?.… Godskristus, dá’
’n mins op die deele heulegoar gain vastighaid hep.… ’s Nachs.… ’s