"Let's see what you've got, Emerson."

I shake my hands out before fisting them, bouncing on my feet. Jaxon mimics my stance across from me in the ring and his eyes glint in excitement. I know he loves his coaching job but it's obvious how much he misses boxing when he spars with me or the guys. This is the extent of it for him, though. He never wanted the life of a professional. He just wanted to love the sport the way his late brother loved it so he'd be able to connect with him somehow now that he's gone. I don't know why it's just hitting me that him and Melanie actually share the same pain on some level. Both of them have lost their younger sibling and their parents both.

But I don't have time to dwell on that. Coach blows the whistle to signal the start of the match and all the students of Fighter's Den cheer us on. Jaxon's students are all bouncing on their toes in excitement as they watch their coach getting ready to fight. The guys are all standing on my side of the ring and calling out obscene remarks to egg us on like the dicks they are. This should be fucking good.

Jaxon strikes first, throwing a left hook that I duck and rear back from. My arm shoots out in a left jab that catches him in the gut and his students call out a chorus of "ooh." Jaxon is quick to retaliate, swinging a right to my rib and I grunt from the pain. Motherfucker has intense arm power.

"Let's fucking go, ladies!" I hear Cameron followed by his obnoxious laugh. Guy's a fucking goon.

"You got this one, big guy!" Asher encourages. He's actually the one I'm closest to from all the guys which says a lot because none of them really know me.

"Keep it moving!" That one was Nate, always responsible and making sure we're on track.

Jaxon and I had been circling each other but it's on again when I jog close and throw a right cross to his cheek. He moves back but not in time and my knuckles manage to graze him. He scowls and swings an uppercut that catches my chin and snaps my head back. I go back for another body shot, my fists pounding into his side before he sidesteps my attacks and throws his arm out. I use my forearms to shield my body and duck my head, immediately going into defence when he starts throwing punch after punch. Before I know it I'm cornered with Jaxon's fists raining down on me and leaving no way out.

"Get out of there, Emerson!" Coach barks. He's been training me for pros and he needs to see that I'm ready. I'm not looking so hot right now and I'm going to have to do something. Fast.

I bring my arms down and leave my body wide open for attack. I hear Coach release a spew of curses for that maneuver but I know what I'm doing. When Jaxon sees he has a clear shot, he rears his arm back all the way instead of sticking to short and quick punches when he was trying to get through to me. By the time he manages to swing his fist all the way forward I've ducked and stepped out of the way because he left himself wide open too. His fist meets air and I throw a left hook to his side, putting all my force into that punch. He staggers for just a moment before catching himself but by then my fist crosses his cheek and he crashed into the ropes. I'm on him instantly, another uppercut meeting his chin followed by a right hook to the side of his head. His knuckles knock into my mouth so suddenly that I feel my lip split and I falter. He swings again but I duck and go for his body at the same time he bends into defence and our bodies crash into each other. We both go down, landing on the canvas with a thud.

"Time!" Coach calls out and stops the match. The guys cheer on and Jaxon's students are booing because they wanted to see more. The little guys look fucking starstruck, no doubt wondering when they'll be able to fight at this level. "That's all I needed. Get back to work Cage and Emerson."

I push my palms against the canvas and get to my feet, swiping my forearm against my mouth and smirking at the thin slash of red blood that greets me. Jaxon is still on his back and breathing hard but he's grinning up at me despite the bruise forming on his cheek.

"One hell of a fight, Emerson." He chuckles. "I'm not sure I could go nine more rounds with you. Thank God it's just the one."

He's being modest as fuck. Only one round and I'm bleeding enough that I'm going to need an ice pack for my lip. I offer him my hand and he takes it, standing as I pull him up. We shake our clasped hands and clap each other's backs out of respect. Jaxon's a good guy. He can be an asshole but only because he's insanely protective of the people he cares about and that can get the better of him sometimes. That's why he does so well as a coach — he dishes out the tough love the rest of us wouldn't be able to.

"You guys looked like beasts in there," Cameron grins, ducking under the ropes and joining us. Nate and Asher are close behind. "I think half of your students were shitting their pants, Cage."

"So were you, West." Jaxon smacks his cheek, throwing an arm around him. They act like dicks with each other but they're best friends, bizarre as it seems. "Don't use my students as a cover up. They're better fighters than you, especially with me as a coach."

"Yeah, they look at your fighting and know exactly what not to do."

"Do you want to get your ass kicked by me?"

"Can't stay away from my ass, huh? Typical."

"Would you two give it a rest already?" Nate rolls his eyes, turning his attention to me. "How you feeling, man? Ready for your first pro match at the end of the month?"

I honestly don't fucking know. The boxing I'm confident about. It's everything else — the crowd, the cameras, what the whole arena will think of the mute — that's freaking me the hell out. I want to tell the guys, actually fucking talk to them because I've been thinking about it for so long, but the more I prolong it the more impossible it seems. They're so used to the Wolfe that doesn't speak that me talking would be such a curveball. And it's not like I have difficulty communicating with them the way things are now. I realize I sound like a pussy making all these excuses but it never feels like the right time to use my voice, to show them that part of me. Right now is no different.

I offer a shrug instead of everything that was going through my head and the guys nod expectantly. Of course they do. They don't even know that I've been speaking for three weeks now. They don't know anything about me and while I didn't give a shit about that before, it bothers me now.

"Hey," Asher calls quietly to get my attention. The rest of the guys are talking so Asher pulls me to the other side of the ring and crosses his arms. "You good?"

Not sure why he's asking, I just nod. He stares at me like he's not buying it. "Something bothering you, man? You seem different. It could just be me but I don't know."

Do I seem different? Fuck if I know. Of course a lot has changed with me personally but I didn't think that was visible on the outside. I shrug again, not sure what Asher wants to hear.

"Alright," He concedes after watching me for a few calculating moments. "How're things with Lenny? Ria told me you guys are living together."

I bristle at the mention. I hate it when people know about my business just because of how private I am and I can't stop how bothered I suddenly feel. Asher can probably see it on my face because he holds his hands up in surrender.

"We don't have to talk about it. I didn't tell any of the guys either. It's just...I don't know...it's not so bad having someone to share this stuff with. And knowing Lenny, you have your hands full and could unload a little."

My lips twitch reluctantly. Melanie's a handful alright and I guess Asher would know that best. The two of them have their own fucked up version of a relationship where they argue more than they get along but I know they care about each other a lot.

I bump his fist in thanks and he nods back. That's what I like about Ash. He's just as private as I am so he understands the boundaries I put out. The guy was part of some messed up shit and none of us — except Nate — knew about it until he nearly lost his life around eight months ago. That was a scary fucking day. We've had a lot of close calls in this group. Emily being kidnapped, Delilah getting in a car accident, and Asher getting shot. All of us have been through so fucking much it's no wonder we're a family, even though I feel like an outcast most of the time. But that's on me. I do it on purpose and if I want that to change then that's on me too.

"Everything good here?" Jaxon makes his way over to us. He eyes Asher and I curiously when we nod back but lets it go. "I've got to head out now if I'm going to make it to Lizzie's parent-teacher interview in time. Good spar, Emerson."

I clasp his hand once more in goodbye. His eyes move over my shoulder and he smiles. I never see Jaxon smile at anyone except his family so I already know what to half-expect when I turn around. Lizzie is waving at us as she heads to the ring, grinning wide. I think Lizzie could make just about anyone smile, including me. I've always had a soft spot for the kid. When she was a little younger she'd chase after me and tell me all of her stories, talking to me in a completely normal manner as if I wasn't mute. She made me feel less different and more comfortable with the group and I think the rest of the guys would agree that she's really the one who brought us all together. I can't even remember Fighter's Den before the kid.

"Ready to go, Daddy?" She asks when she reaches the ring, craning her head up to look at us from between the ropes.

"Just give me five minutes to grab a quick shower, baby. I'll be right there." He tells her and steps out of the ring, giving her a quick kiss before jogging off toward the locker room.

"Liz-Liz!" Cameron comes over to our side when he notices her, looking down with a grin. "What's up, kiddo?"

"Hey, Uncle Cam-Cam." She grins back. "Just waiting to go to my parent-teacher interview. It's the last one before middle school starts in September."

"You nervous?"

"Nope. I have straight A's in everything. I think I'll be fine."

"Atta-girl." He holds his fist out and Lizzie bumps it with a smile.

"I never got straight A's in school," Asher recalls.

"Try straight C's," Nate mutters. I guess he would know. Those two grew up together from when they were kids.

"That doesn't surprise me, Uncle Ash." Lizzie giggles and he glares back teasingly. "Let me guess — you always stole Uncle Nate's notes?"

"And your Aunt Ria's. The Hunter twins are the only reason I graduated. School was not for me but fighting sure was."

"Way to teach the kid a valuable lesson," Cameron deadpans. Then his smile turns lopsided again because he can never stay serious for too long. "You fuckers wouldn't have survived me back in the days. I was so cute you could've eaten me up."

The guys and I groan at his less than accurate remark while Lizzie frowns and holds her palm up. Cameron sighs as soon as he realizes his mistake and fishes out a bill that he hands to her. Lizzie's been collecting swear jar money from us for so long I think the kid could pay for college at this point.

Lizzie gestures a hand to me so I lower myself and crouch down to her level, looking at her through the ropes of the ring. She grins at me and points to my lip. "Don't forget to ice that, Uncle Wolfe. It looks painful."

I warm a little at her thoughtfulness as I wink back, ruffling her hair. As dumb as it may sound Lizzie was the first friend I ever had. Yeah, I had the guys but she's the one who got through my rough exterior with her childlike curiosity. We have a good thing going even now that she's more grown up.

"What up, Em?" I hear Nate say and look up, following his line of vision to where Emily is making her way toward the ring. She waves at all of us.

"Hey, guys." She greets when she reaches us, putting an arm around Lizzie. "How's training going?"

"Coach is kicking our ass as usual," Asher snorts. "Your husband had the pleasure of stepping in the ring with the big guy."

Emily's eyes scope me out and she smiles when she sees me. "And hopefully left him in one piece?"

My lips twitch in good humour and I offer her a little thumbs up. Her and Lizzie laugh in return. It's crazy how similar they look even though Emily isn't her biological mother but somehow, they have the same smile.

"Your husband can hold his own, thank you very much." Jaxon appears a moment later, hair dripping with water that he shakes out all over Emily who squeals in return. He grins and wraps his arms around her, bending his head to kiss her cheek. "Or are you forgetting how talented I am, baby?"

"So much arrogance," Emily scrunches her nose, shoving him back.

Jaxon isn't the least bit deterred. His smirk is his only warning before he grabs her by the waist and dips her back to kiss her deeply. With one arm wrapped around her and another hand shoved in her hair, he kisses the fuck out of her until the rest of us are forced to look away. Lizzie rubs her temples in exasperation and walks away. Poor kid has probably seen this too many times to count.

They finally pull apart and Jaxon straightens them up, gazing down at Emily in what could only be sheer fucking adoration. "You love my arrogance, gorgeous. Don't you forget it."

"Like you'd let me," Her mouth quirks, running her hands through his hair.

Those two have been together for six years now but you'd think they just got into a relationship. Not that the rest of the guys are any better. They're all whipped for their women and that's something I never really understood before because I've never made a connection like that. I'm not saying I'm a prude who's never thought about women or felt a natural desire to be with one but actually sharing my life with them? Being with one woman who knows everything about me and accepts me in all my fucked up glory? I never entertained the idea because it seemed that far-fetched, something that was never meant for me. I'd made my peace with it without feeling sorry for myself the same way I'd made my peace with never intending to talk again.

It's ironic I've been proved wrong on both accounts.

Now I'm talking and, well, I'm not as alone as I thought I'd be either. Either way both of these things have me lost as fuck. I almost don't recognize myself anymore and it's just so goddamn overwhelming. Great, but overwhelming.

I look away as something weird tugs at me and for reasons I can't explain feel the need to be alone. I step out of the ring and head to the locker room, slipping away while everyone else chatters on. I've been so in my head lately that I can't think of how to make sense of this by myself anymore. Only one person, the only person who knows me better than I know myself, is who I need right now.

So I go to him.

***

The graveyard is quiet except for the soft crunch of leaves underneath my boots, reminding me that fall is in its peak before it leaves us.

I don't even have to look at where I'm going. I could make the journey with my eyes closed because I've done it so many times. Lately I've been a little too distracted and this is the longest I've gone without a visit but I would never forget. Never.

I stop in front of the headstone that sits peacefully in the corner of the graveyard, just the slightest bit away from the rest of the crowded land. Just how he would have wanted, being the private man that he was. I guess you could say I got that from him. I take a seat on the grass and cross my legs to get comfortable. I always end up killing a couple of hours when I'm here even if I don't mean for it. It was always like that with us. My hand automatically reaches out to touch the cool and grey concrete and my thumb brushes over the inscriptions.

"Happy birthday, Gramps," I whisper. The place is deserted but I'm still scared to be overheard. More than that, this is the first time I've spoken directly to my grandfather and even though he's not alive I know he still hears me. I can picture his thick brows going up in surprise followed by some dumb joke to make sure I don't get uncomfortable. I smile at the thought of how he'd always use humour to get me to loosen up, punching my arm in good nature. I'd kill for another one of those punches.

"You surprised, old man?" My thumb brushes over the engraved writing again and my throat locks up in response as always. Phineus Emerson. Father. Grandfather. Teacher. Grandfather (because my boy is worth a thousand mentions). He had the inscription ready years before he passed and I'd broken down, fell to my fucking knees, when his lawyer showed me these were the words Gramps requested to lay buried underneath. I hold back a fresh wave of tears. "You always said I'd speak my truth one day. Why'd you have to leave before you could see it for yourself, huh?"

Despite my efforts, a few tears push out of my eyes before I can stop them and I quickly swipe them away with my jacket-covered arm. I clear my throat to get rid of the extra raspiness and the boulders that's fucking stumped in there.

"You should be here and gloating in my face," I can't tell if I'm more angry or upset but it makes my voice tremble. "You should be saying something back to me. We should be having the conversations I know you wanted us to have so badly. You should have pushed me, damn it. I would have spoke for you if you pushed me."

My breath catches right before a sob rips out of me and I duck my head. I don't know who I'm trying to hide from but I just can't. I already feel like the world is seeing too much of me and I'm not ready for them to see this either. I cry softly into the crook of my elbow, my other hand rubbing the grass as if I can somehow touch Gramps. The prickle of dirt reminds me there's six feet between him and I and that I'll never be able to touch him again. I punch the ground without a second thought. Angry. I'm definitely more angry.

"Please hear me," I beg so softly I can barely hear myself. "Wherever you are, please hear me."

The answering silence is a punch to the gut. Gramps had a voice that was louder than life. Whether he was laughing, or cussing at some sort of sports match on TV, or cheering me on at my amateur matches, he was always the loudest in the room and he compensated for my silence. For the first time ever I'm louder than him and it feels so fucking wrong.

"Should I be doing this?" I almost beg him. "Should I go back to the way things were or should I keep pushing? I thought the answer would be obvious but it's not, Gramps. I don't know how to do this. I feel like such a fuckin' failure."

It's weird but for a moment the air around me tenses, like when you can feel someone glaring at you or you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. Whatever it is, a small laugh gets the better of me because I can almost imagine Gramps smacking me upside my head and telling me to watch my language. He used to do that whenever I made my "fuck" face. According to him, I made a specific face when I thought of the word "fuck" in my head and he'd always catch on, was always right too. That smack kept me in check and it does the job even now. I swear I almost duck like I can see it coming.

"Sorry," I chuckle and rub the grass again. "I just...I just don't have the answers. I can do silence but this? I'm out of my league here."

I wipe away the remaining tears on my face, sniffing hard against my stinging nose, and sigh deeply.

"Speaking of out of my league..." A smile gets the better of me and I look away as if Gramps can see and is going to give me shit for my ears going red. This is why I'm always here. I swear I sit on this grass and Gramps is right in front of me. "I met someone. Someone I know you'd love. She kind of reminds me of you actually. Both of you are too bold for your own good, always getting yourselves in trouble. And she's trouble alright, Gramps. She'd give you a run for your money."

I shake my head, thinking of Melanie and the spitfire she is.

"I talked for her," I admit quietly. "I know I say I'm lost and confused but when I talk to her things just make sense. She makes me forget I have doubts to begin with because of the way she believes in me. I don't know what she sees in me but I definitely don't see it in myself."

I sigh then and lean forward until my forehead is touching the headstone. I swallow the sudden gravel in my throat.

"She's tough as balls. She isn't easy to get through to. She's scared to open up and care about someone else. But she did all of those things and she did it for me. And I...I'm hiding something. I feel like I should tell her but it might change the way she sees me. She thinks I'm too good or innocent but I'm capable of some fucked up things, Gramps. What if she finds out and I don't live up to her expectations? What if she regrets trusting me and leaves?"

It's something I've been thinking about for too long and avoided admitting it even longer. I wouldn't even let myself think about it and now I've finally said it out loud and I realize just how true it is. Melanie believes in me almost too much and I don't want to be another person on her list that lets her down. But I'm also lying to her and that's not any better. Everyday I'm flooded with guilt that makes it hard to breathe.

"I wonder how you would feel about this," I murmur. "I'm doing this for both of us, you know. Would you support me or tell me to let it go?"

Even as I ask the question I somehow know the answer too.

"You'd support me," I nod with conviction because I have no doubt about it. This part of my life is something I'm not too proud about but I know I'm doing it for the right reasons. "You know how this feels, Gramps. You would understand."

I rub the top of the headstone and it gives me the kind of comfort I can't find anywhere else. No matter how fucking confusing and messy everything is right now this is my one constant. It was always Gramps and I against the world and I know I can still count on that. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing or what's going to happen next but I know he's with me.

"I love you," I tell him and my voice catches, getting the better of me when I'm hit with sudden realization. "I'll be damned. That's the first time I said those words out loud to you, huh, old man?"

I pat the solid ground beneath me. That was my grandfather. The most solid, sturdy, and tough guy you'd ever know.

"I'll come back tomorrow and say it again," I promise gruffly. My eyes fall shut and for a moment it feels like he's right behind me, his hand on my shoulder. My chest twists deeply. "I'll say it to you every chance I get."

___________________________

A/N

Oh my Wolfe! I cried writing this, it was so emotional and raw. I felt like it was so important to share what kind of relationship him and his grandfather had and offer some kind of backstory since Gramps is so important!

Also, any guesses about what secret our Wolfie is hiding? Did this chapter give off any more hints?

Please VOTE, comment and share if you liked this chapter!

Happy Reading :)