8 years later...

"Oh, God," Laura moans, her back arching as I bury my face deeper between her legs.

"Shh," I whisper in warning. "You're going to wake Emily up, darlin'. I'd rather you come before that happens."

I look up and watch her nod fast with her lips pressed together, chuckling and getting back to work. I groan at the taste of her when my tongue pushes into her entrance, growing hard at the way she soaks my tongue. She's so ready for me that I can't bring myself to wait another moment. I sit up on my knees and slam into her in one smooth motion. Laura digs her face into the mattress, face contorted with pleasure when I start thrusting hard and fast. I never get tired of being inside of her. She's too goddamn sweet and addicting.

I lean over her and wrap my lips around her nipple, sucking while my cock works her. She locks her legs around my torso and lifts her hips up with every thrust to match my pace. At this point in our sex life, she knows exactly what I like and I know exactly what she likes. That's why both of us draw near climax all too soon. I can feel her start to tense up around me and I'm not fair behind at all, biting down on the bud while her nails claw down my back hard enough to break skin. I kiss my way up her neck until I take her lips between mine, my tongue fucking her mouth as hard as I fuck her. Laura moans when I reach between us to flick her clit and then her walls squeeze me as she comes.

I push my hips into hers, my cock twitching when I feel it pulse with the force of my own orgasm. Both of us groan, clawing at each other and kissing with greed as we finish off. God fucking damn, this never gets old.

When it's done both our bodies go limp. I pull out of her and lie down beside her, the two of us panting hard and trying to catch our breaths. Laura turns to hug my body and I kiss her forehead, dragging my hand down her back lazily. I enjoy the simple moment and how we have it all to ourselves. Life has been so busy I feel like I don't see my wife enough.

I officially retired from boxing one year ago. It became the biggest part of my life after leaving South Bloods behind. I took refuge in the sport and let it define me, found solace and meaning in it. I made the most of my years as a fighter. Everyone called me The Strike for a three-punch combination move I'd mastered during my career. I preferred it to Raze any day. I even used boxing as a way to propose to Laura a few months after we had Em. I proposed to her from the ring while she was there, sitting in the crowd, because that's how we first met. She seemed to appreciate it based on the way she jumped inside the ring and tackled the hell out of me, screaming yes.

The best parts of my life happened inside a ring and this past year without boxing has made me adrift with no real purpose. Luckily, Laura is doing a lot better than I am. She opened up her own gallery a couple of years ago and though she's never sold out, I know that's just down the road somewhere. She's too talented.

"Are you okay?" She murmurs, playing with the scruff of my beard.

"Just thinking," I admit. "I don't know what comes next for me."

She props herself up on one elbow. "Well, what do you wish you could be doing? If it was anything in the world."

I hesitate a moment, not knowing how she'll take the answer. "I miss being a leader. Boxing was great but it didn't fulfill me the way being a leader did."

She nods thoughtfully but doesn't look surprised. "Well, maybe you could combine both. Boxing and leading."

"What do you mean?"

"What if you became a coach? You've always said training makes or breaks fighters and there's little to no fighters that impressed you during your career. So become a coach. Make fighters that you can be proud of, ones that understand the sport as well as you do."

My brows come together. Coaching? It's never really come to mind before. But I guess it wouldn't be completely out of my ballpark. I've always analyzed every fighter that I fought, thought of ways they could improve their fighting to make them formidable opponents, and found myself wishing I could give them tips so they'd put up a decent fight.

"I don't want to teach bratty kids, though. I'm tough as balls, darlin'. I'd only want to coach men that could handle my ass-kickings."

"So do that," She laughs. "Let aspiring fighters come to you when they're ready to be trained as professional fighters and help them go pro. Whip them into shape. You might even grow attached to them and find new men to take care of."

I snort. "What, take them in as my sons or some shit?"

"Why not? You may be a leader but you're a nurturer. You take care of people. These men might need you as more than a coach and you could be that for them too. Your leadership has no limits, babe. The world needs it."

"I don't know about that," I mutter but I can't deny that I'm starting to think about it. And the more I think about it the more appealing it sounds.

"Keep an open mind." Laura kisses my cheek. "What do I always say? We're meant to learn from the people around us. Coaching will be a whole new experience for you and open doors you've never visited. Maybe you'll find more soulmates down the line."

I shake my head with a smile. Laura's free-spirit has never once wavered in the years I've stood by her side. It's staggeringly different to my grounded one but she's the one who gives me courage to try new things.

"Okay," I agree softly. "I'll look into it. Marco coaches the Boston gym I own—Fighter's Den. I'll ask him if he's willing to let me give him a new position so I can take over."

"Coach Resnick." Laura wiggles her brows. "Hot."

I grab her by the waist and she squeals, bursting into a fit of laughter when I roll on top of her and kiss the hell out of her face. To this day her smile makes my heart stop a beat. It's the same smile that changed my life and made me who I am.

"Let's get dressed." I peck her mouth when I hear shuffling down the hall. "I think we woke our daughter up."

"Dibs on the shower!" She kicks me off and jogs away, laughing when I smack her on the ass and watch her go.

I quickly pull on a pair of boxers, just making it time when Emily bursts in the room with a grin. She has the same smile as her mother. Same eyes too. Her hint of sass is my doing, however.

"Breakfast time!" She announces. Then she scrunches her nose. "You need more clothes, Daddy."

I laugh and look down at my state of undress. "Your father has an impressive figure. Let me show off, darlin'."

"Gross!" She pretends to throw up. I roll my eyes. So goddamn dramatic. "Let's go! Breakfast!"

I lean down and pick her up, throwing her over my shoulder. She squeals with laughter as I bound down the stairs lightening fast and pretend like I'm going to drop her. We're both red in the face by the time we make it to the kitchen.

Emily sits at the kitchen table colouring while I whip up some chocolate chip pancakes. I get a text as I flip one pancake over and read through it. It's Mitch.

As the years went by we were forced to drift apart. He works for my city business and went into safe-house guarding but he still has some active connections to South Bloods after volunteering to be one of the men to keep eyes on them. I may not lead them anymore and I never will again but the fear of putting my family danger is too persistent. It's better that I make sure I know what they're up to at all times and that no one brings my name up again. South Bloods think I'm dead, after I made another deal with the leader of the Asesinos to spread a rumour about getting caught in a street killing last year, which is why I've had to distance myself from Mitch so our friendship can't be traced back to my family. He's a good man—he chooses to keep an eye on South Bloods for my sake even if our friendship is the cost. The text is nothing more than a status update and I respond with a simple enough message. Maybe one day down the road we can pick up our friendship where it left off again.

For now I have to stay under the radar. I started from scratch when we got to Boston, forging all kinds of records so there'd be no way to connect Raze and Greg together. It hasn't been easy. I have to lie my way out of a lot of things. Emily is growing older and sometimes she asks how her parents met. Laura and I told her the truth for the most part, that we met at one of my matches and I chased Laura down, but altered some details. I don't know that I'll ever tell her the truth about my past. I don't know if I'll ever tell anyone. I have no way of knowing if my past will truly stay past but...everyone has one, right?

"Daddy, you're going to burn the pancake!" Emily calls and I curse, flipping it over. It's slightly charred but edible enough, right?

"Make a new one." Laura appears by my side, snorting with laughter. I raise the spatula threateningly and she sticks her tongue out.

"Mama, look," Emily whispers excitedly, pointing at the kitchen window. "It's Daniel!"

"Who the fuck is Daniel?" I demand.

Laura smacks my arm. "Language. And Daniel is the boy she has a crush on. Lives across the street."

"Good. My gun happens to shoot that far."

Laura isn't even fazed. She's long since accepted I'm an overbearing father. "Oh, please. He's too nice for Emily."

"What does that mean?"

"Honey, the only male figure in her life is you and you ooze testosterone. That's the example she's growing up with so she's definitely going to end up with a hot-headed man that's the furthest thing from nice."

"And I'll kill him too."

"Wrong." She taps my nose. "Because deep down you're just like that so you're going to get along with him even if it's the last thing you want."

"And you happen to know all this how?"

"Because I'm always right, love." She stretches up on her toes to peck me.

I watch as she heads over to Emily and smothers her with kisses until they're both laughing too hard to catch their breaths. I can't help but watch my girls with a smile, knowing I'd be anywhere but here if it wasn't for them. And maybe I can't change my past or who I used to be but I can keep moving forward, keep learning new things, and keep helping others. A certain shy and sassy painter taught me that. We lock eyes and she winks like she knows what I'm thinking. I raise a brow right back because she really has no idea just how much she's changed my life.

As all soulmates should.

THE END

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