Lost & Found

Chapter 2

My plan is to tell Tris only the bare minimum:

I was a boxer when I was young.
I accidentally caused the death of an opponent.
I ran from my life and created a new one.
Coulter found me.

Keep it simple. Short and sweet, I tell myself.

"My real name is Tobias Eaton," my mouth begins spewing without my permission. "I'm a boxer from Baltimore. My tyrant father drove my mother to suicide when I was nine years old, then proceeded to beat me until I was old enough to fight back. He trained me to be a boxer, exploited me, controlled me, and stole from me. Ten years ago I killed a man in the ring, then ran away in the night."

Shit. That wasn't short and sweet. And it's just the beginning. As if it has a mind of its own, my mouth continues rattling off the details of my life story to Tris.

I tell her about finding my mother's lifeless body in the bathtub.

I tell her about the fights I got into while living on the streets.

I tell her about meeting Juanita (Nita) Daniels-Valdez (now Easton-Daniels), my wife, at a charity event her father invited me to. Apparently David really talked me up to his daughter, because Nita pursued me hard, and after a few months of occasional dates and regrettable sex, she told me she was pregnant. I married her two months later, but there was no baby. In the year since our wedding, Nita has done nothing but spend my money and nag me about making more. I also suspect she's cheating on me, but I don't have proof, and her father is a very influential man I can't afford to piss off without good cause.

I spill my guts, sparing no detail, and Tris just sits and listens. When I finally run out of words, I collapse into my office chair and put my head in my hands.

Tris stands gracefully from her chair, crosses to my closed office door, and clicks the lock. She adjusts the blinds on the windows that flank the door, then crosses to me and wraps me in her arms.

"Oh Tobias," she says gently, and at the softly spoken sound of my real name I begin to sob into her midsection.

I cry for the abused child I was. I cry for Gabe and for Al, who lost their lives too soon over mere sports, and for Coulter, branded a killer over someone else's stupid choice. I cry for my mother, for my years on the street, and for the hell I live in with Nita. I cry like I haven't cried since that first night on the freight train that took me away from Baltimore.

Tris holds me against her warm body and runs her fingers through my short, dark hair. She doesn't shush me or try to stop me, she just comforts me and lets me cry. Even when my tears are spent, she doesn't let me go.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"There is no reason to be sorry," Tris says in a firm but gentle voice, still holding me. "You are brave, and inspiring. You've been through so much, and you've built a life for yourself. You're a survivor, Tobias, and a strong man."

The sound of my real name is stirring. Tris doesn't treat me like a victim or look at me like a kicked puppy. Instead, she releases me and moves back to her chair.

"Your meeting with Zeke is in fifteen minutes," she says, sounding more like the assistant I'm used to. "The way I see it, we have three problems. First, we need to take care of your swollen red eyes before Zeke arrives. Second, we need to figure out what to do to help Coulter. Lastly, you need to get free from your bitch of a wife. If… if that's what you want, of course."

I can't help but smile. It feels good to have an ally who knows the truth and is on my side anyway.

.

The meeting with my second in command, Zeke Pedrad, is relatively uneventful. We eat sandwiches delivered by a shop down the street, and Tris sits in to take notes. These two are probably my best friends, and I find myself wondering if Zeke would take my life story as graciously as Tris did.