“No. I will not let you do this to yourself. I don’t want you to go, and I don’t want you to fight. Can’t you see that? There are other ways for you to be the best. I know you, just, don’t go.” I perched on the edge of the sofa, our eyes now staring at each other’s, although Maddison’s showed a vacant, glazed look, giving away just how drunk he was.
“My business. My goals. All for us. And you ruined it.”
“This isn’t all on me.” I ground my jaw, hurt at his view on our relationship, but I guessed there were always two sides to every story.
His eyes began to droop. “You told me you loved me, but you still left. Or maybe you just never loved me enough. Figures. I’ve played second place to Oliver for so many things in my life. I could just add you to that list as well.”
“No. Don’t say that. I loved you so much, that’s what the problem was.” I reached for his hand, desperate for him to hear the words that were still so true, and stop him from passing out. But he snatched them from my grip and stood, suddenly awake and now pacing the few metres of the room.
“Oliver was always cleverer than me. I let my temper get the better of me while he got away with whatever he wanted. But I ruled the school and could have had anything I wanted.” He wind-milled his arms in wide arcs. “But I had to be better than him. That’s what I set myself. I wanted to show both of you. And I did—I have, but you still weren’t happy.” He scrubbed his hands through his messed-up hair.
His words faded, and so did his purposeful steps. He stood, towering over me. “You broke us. And now you want me to give up the opportunity I’ve been working for?” He leaned down towards me. “Never. Now leave.”
“No. You need to know why.”
“Why what?” he scoffed as he turned around and stumbled towards the shelf to the side of him.
“Why I’m begging you not to go to London.”
“I’m listening.” He stretched his arms out to the side in an invitation, mocking my attempts to change his mind.
The story from my mother about my father wasn’t one I planned to share in detail, but I’d promised myself that I’d do anything in my power to stop Maddison. He already knew there was a history there. Maybe he needed to know just how close he was following in his footsteps. “My father was just like you.”
I looked up at him, hoping to capture his attention, and it appeared to work. He relaxed his stance and kept his mouth shut, so I took my advantage and told the tale that was suddenly so close to home.
“He didn’t start off that way, but he got involved in more fights, gambling, dirty work of some kind. That’s why my mother moved us here. To escape, because his work spilt over into our lives, and we were both in danger. He couldn’t get out, and I can’t stand the thought of that happening to you, or worse, you getting hurt badly, all for some money to fight a guy in a ring.” I kept my head up and my back straight, refusing to show the emotion that those words had dragged up from somewhere deep inside of me. And I suddenly couldn’t see anything other than Maddison as a shadow of my father. “Just think about it, Mads. Please.”
There was a stillness in the room. Neither of us wanted to shatter the peace, although I knew it was coming. My fingers moved to rub the small cat at my wrist—a habit I often acted on for courage.
“What is his name?”
“Mike Kenner. It doesn’t matter though. He lost everything because he got in too deep.”
“Boo-hoo,” he shouted. “So, your father started like me, doesn’t mean anything. You've mentioned him once and used him as the reason to leave me, and now he’s this example of what will happen if I don’t listen to you? This doesn’t change anything. Plenty of people fight or box. It’s not a crime. So, do yourself a favour and get out of my fucking house, and don’t come back. We’re done.”
I stood before him as my body quivered at his words. He’d crushed any chance that I could do this—there was too much hate. I used that to fuel the strength I needed to walk out without collapsing into tears. But I didn’t make it to the door.
“Who are you? You used to make me believe I could do anything. I don’t even recognise you.” My words choked in my throat. Mads showed no sign that he’d even heard them. I cast my glance back, but he stood, swaying on the spot, with a blank expression that was haunting. I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I fled the house and dove into the relative safety of the car.
I’d warned Leo he wouldn’t listen, but there was a small part of me that had hoped he’d hear me at least. All that hope had just died, and I was left with no other choice, but to pray that Maddison could look after himself.
Chapter 28
Grace 21 Years Old
Sleep was my silent enemy for the rest of the night. Every time I closed my eyes and began to drift off, my mind played a repeat of some of the more hurtful words that Maddison had chucked at me, or I had visions of Maddison all bloodied and broken.
Bob—my usual constant companion—even gave up on my restlessness and decided to make his bed on the chair instead. By dawn, I was wide awake, and no amount of convincing my body I needed the sleep could undo the situation.
Coffee. The first solution my mind could reach for right then.
I sat and nursed my warm mug and looked out the back window into the garden. The light seemed so pure this early like the possibilities of the day were still being decided.
Memories ghosted over my field of vision, of me playing outside when I was young, but I was rarely alone. Maddison and Oliver were always by my side. Shadows that ensured I was never on my own and had a friend by my side. My world was so full back then, and I had everything I could possibly need. But then, somewhere, somehow, it had grown narrow and complicated and small.
“Hey, you’re up early.”
My grip on the mug of now cold coffee slipped and dropped to the ground, shattering the quiet and the rest of my nerves.
“Oh, crap,” I jumped back from the spill of liquid and ceramic.
“Sorry I startled you, honey,” Mum said from behind me.
“It’s fine. I was miles away.” I stepped away from the mess and grabbed a paper towel.
“Yeah, I saw that. Anything on your mind?”
There was plenty on my mind. “Just memories. Thinking about how things were.”
“You sound like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, and you know, nothing good ever comes from missing the past.”
She set about making another cup of coffee, but her words had given me a jolt. I’d spent so much of my life wishing the time away and back to when we were little. Was that part of the reason I was never happy—because I’d never given anything a chance?
“Here. You look like you could do with the cup.” She handed me a new mug with steam swirling from the surface. Anything planned for today?”
“Lunch shift,” I answered on autopilot as I was still processing the epiphany of sorts. The distraction of work was sorely needed. I’d go insane if I were stuck at home all day.
“Well, I hope you perk up. And remember, stop moping.”
The day dragged, and by the evening, I was mentally and physically exhausted from the lack of sleep and my anxious mind. My phone had been silent all day. No messages from Maddison, and nothing from Leo. Even with all the words from last night, there was still a grain of hope left that perhaps… maybe… our late-night conversation would have prompted a change of heart from him. But I should have known better than that.
Lying and staring up at the ceiling, I felt like I’d failed. Maybe I compared everything to the past and had never given what I had now a real chance to survive? That was one thought, but it didn’t account for the repeat of Mum’s life. Somehow, I was watching the same events happen to me that, and despite only knowing of my mother and father’s journey for a short time, I was rehashing.
And that was cold comfort when falling to sleep. The question of fate, and if we’re destined to follow a path already set for us, sparked dangerous stories in my mind.
“Oliver!” My cry died in the early morning quiet of my room, and the instant I tried to grab hold of the dream, it vanished like wisps of smoke in the air. But as I came around to full consciousness, I realised I didn’t need to remember the details.
All I needed was his name.
Why hadn’t I thought of this before? It was obvious, and I scolded myself for having a mental block on anything to do with Oliver. Maddison had told me last night, but I was just too upset to interpret his words. He’d felt abandoned by Oliver as well. If he wouldn’t listen to me, perhaps he’d listen to Oliver. Although, like me, Oliver might not be on the top of Maddison’s ‘to see’ list—but I had to try.
I scrambled for my phone but stopped dead as I held it in my hand. I’d not had his number for years. I couldn’t contact him. The hope that had ignited; disintegrated as soon as realisation broke. But I did have a way to get to him. I dug into the bottom of my wardrobe where I’d stashed the box of letters; happy to push them and the questions they’d awoken deep into the recesses of the cupboard and my heart. He’d put his address on the last few, in the hope of a reply. Well, now I’d give him one.
I scribbled a note to Mum, hoping she didn’t mind that I’d be borrowing her car for the day. After all, a spontaneous trip to London was likely to be on her ‘no’ list, especially given that’s where she’d fled.
But this wasn’t something I could shy away from, or risk her barring me from leaving the house. And I knew she’d try that.
The sat nav pinged on as I started the engine, and I programmed the address, hoping that it would be an easy journey. I’d never driven farther than town, and now I was embarking on a trip across the country to try and stop my ex-boyfriend from making a huge mistake.
The doubt crept into my mind the second I pulled out of the drive and turned right, listening to the robotic voice instructions.
If I’d really loved Maddison, truly, wholeheartedly and unequivocally, shouldn’t I have been supporting him? But I knew, love didn’t work like that. It was about give and take and compromise, not just handing over blind support. This couldn’t be the only option for Maddison, and I truly believed that.
The journey dragged as I kept the car in the slow lane of the motorway and my hands glued to the 10-and-2 position. My phone hadn’t stopped buzzing, but I refused to even glance at the screen while navigating traffic. Mum would have to have a fit on her own and wait for me to phone her when I stopped.
The traffic jammed up the closer I got to London, and I forced myself to find some patience. Easier said than done. My heart had been beating the entire way like I’d run the whole journey, not stayed, sitting behind the wheel.
The robotic voice and small triangle pointed me in the direction of Oliver’s house, and a ball of trepidation knotted in my stomach as I worried over what he might say, or worse, that he’d refuse to help. Maddison hadn’t held back in his drunken barrage last night, and I’d not spoken with Oliver about his own feelings towards Mads. But I had to believe that he wanted the best for him. Like I did.
You have reached your destination. I breathed a sigh of relief as I parked on the street outside a surprisingly residential-looking house. I’d anticipated a swish modern apartment block maybe. Either way, I was here, and now the knot of nerves had migrated to my chest.
I fired a brief message to Mum with the promise to explain all, later, before I turned off my phone.
The brass numbers read 87, and I rang the doorbell. My foot tapped on the concrete step, as I scanned for movement through the pane of glass. I took a breath, and another and switched feet to drum up another beat. A dishevelled-looking Oliver appeared around the door, and I jumped forward before he had a chance to say a word.
“Oliver, I’m sorry for turning up unannounced, but I need your help. Can I come in?” I pushed forward, not waiting for the invite.
“Um, sure. Grace? What are you doing here?”
“It’s Maddison. He needs your help. Our help.” My words came out in a rush.
“Okay…” he scrubbed his face. “Give me a minute to grab a shower, and I’ll come home.”
“No,” I grabbed his arm, halting him. “He’s in London. He’s got a big fight tonight with a guy who runs the scene here. He won’t listen to me, but I hoped he might think things through if you talk to him. Or we can do it together. He can’t do this, Oliver. He needs to stop—it’s too dangerous. Even his friend Leo is worried he’s going to get hurt, or worse, end up in something he can’t get out of.” My words ran into one another as I stressed the importance of this.
“Okay, okay, calm down. Do you have the details? Where it is?” Oliver took my hands in his and focused his eyes on mine.
“Yeah, Leo told me everything.” With Oliver grounding my anxiety, my voice was barely a whisper.
“Okay. We can go and try and talk him around. But you need to stay calm, okay. I won’t let anything happen to him.”
I flung my arms around his neck in gratitude, the relief of his words releasing me from the internal hell I’d been walking through. By coming to Oliver, sharing this, I already felt that spark of hope that had all but been extinguished flicker in my chest again.
“Hey, it’s all right. We can do this together.” It took him a moment, but his arms slowly inched around me. I hadn’t realised how much I needed someone else to support me in this.
“If the fight is tonight, why don’t you fill me in on the details and we can work it all out? I promise, we’ll get there and speak to him—and force him to see reason.”
Chapter 29
Maddison 21 Years Old
“Come on. I have to meet this guy first. Apparently, he wants to size me up or some shit.”
“All right. But, hey, there’s still time if you don’t want to go through with this.”
I turned to look at Leo. We’d been in this together from the start, but he didn’t have the same drive as me. Sure, he could fight, but he was always in my shadow. He didn’t have the ambition needed to do what I was about to do. He didn’t have what it took to be in this league.
“Listen, Leo. I am not backing out. This is my fight. My time. Now either get the fuck behind me or piss off.”
We’d arrived at The Venue and made our way in via the back. A couple of guys on the door parted the way for us, just like the instructions had said would happen. I had to meet with Mikey, the guy who ran everything before he’d allow me in the ring. Zuri would see me before the fight.
First impressions, it wasn’t that different from The Club. The entrance opened out into a warehouse-style space. The ring was in the centre. Concrete floors were as lavish as this place got. The only thing going for it was the size. This place could hold a whole lot more people than back home. My instructions were to head up to the office. A set of metal stairs in the far corner showed the way.
I looked at Leo before heading up. In a few hours, I’d be the centre of attention here, and I’d walk away a whole lot richer, finally getting the payday I deserved.
I knocked on the door and entered. It was all black leather sofas and a big-ass desk that tried to be intimidating, but it wasn’t. “Hey, I’m Maddison Ray.” I walked over to the guy behind the desk and offered my hand.
He drew his eyes up, slowly, like I’d just offended him or some shit. I kept my hand out, though. This guy wasn’t getting to me. His eyes finally met mine, and all I could see was Grace staring back at me. Shit.
“Let’s get one thing clear.” Mikey stood without touching my hand. Instead, he moved to button his suit jacket and took purposeful steps from behind his desk. “This is my fight. I’m doing this as a favour. You have no record here, and by all rights, shouldn’t be in my club. But I’ve seen you fight. You might think you own that ring you play in back home.” He stepped towards me, circling like a shark. “You don’t. You haven’t been to one of my fights.” He stopped in front of my face, and those eyes just stared right through me. “Don’t fucking embarrass me!” he s
pat in my face. “Do you hear me?”
“Yeah, I hear you.” I’d had enough of being talked to like some fucking kid. “What’s your full name, Mikey?” I had a hunch, but I had to know.
“You can call me Mr Kenner until you start making me some money.” Fucking hell. This was Grace’s father. My lips curled into a smug grin.
“Is something amusing to you, Maddison Ray?”
“I think we have someone in common. You might remember her, Grace.”
Mikey’s eyes bored into mine, the wrinkles of his brow furrowing as he scowled. “Grace, who?”
My eyes flicked to Leo, who looked like his eyes would pop out of his head any minute. Mikey was playing the cool card, but he was entirely too calm not to know who I meant.
“Grace Shaw.” I leaned in, getting in his face. “My girlfriend.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” He kept his face blank, but I didn’t buy it.
“Sure, you do. I’ve known her since she was seven. Turned up in our village out of the blue. Mum’s name is Charlie. Ring any bells yet?”
“You know Grace?” That steely veneer cracked, and in that split moment, I saw everything come together.
“You could say that. She’s my fucking girlfriend.” My grin was victorious.
He was on me in a flash. Mikey grabbed my collar in his fist and used his weight to twist and slam me against his desk. “Don’t fucking talk about my girl like that.” His teeth clenched together and up close, I noticed the scars hidden under age lines, the dented nose, the gold tooth, all the signs of him doing in the past what I was about to do—fight.
“She’s not your girl. She doesn’t even remember you.”
“What the fuck would you know? You’re just a jacked-up little shit who thinks he’s a man.”
“But I’m the jacked-up little shit who can arrange for Grace to come here to watch me. Think about it.” I’d got his attention.
The Two Halves of my Heart: A Friends-to-Lovers Romance Page 23