Repentance: The Story of Kace Haywood

by Meghan Quinn

“Fuck off.” I laughed.

  “It’s always about dick size with you, isn’t it?” Jett asked.

  “When is it not about dick size?”

  “Not sure.” Jett laughed, finishing his beer.

  Taking a serious spin on our conversation, I asked, “Are you ever going home or are you going to continue to pussy up and sleep in my guest room?”

  “Don’t want to leave you alone. I know how much the dark scares you,” Jett countered.

  “Seriously, man. You have to go home at some point. You have to move on.”

  “I know,” he answered sharply. “I fucking know.” He ran his hands through his hair, resting his elbows on the bar. “It’s just not that easy. The place is so empty now. I miss her.”

  “Natasha?” I asked, completely confused.

  Jett grimaced as he turned his head slightly toward me. “Fuck no, not Natasha. I miss my mom.”

  Ah hell. I wasn’t good at shit like this. I’d never been the kind of guy who carried around a great deal of empathy, so dealing with other’s emotions wasn’t my bread and butter. Give me a fucking punching bag, and I could smoke the shit out of it, but emotions? I would rather get knocked out in the first round.

  Jett had recently lost his mother to AIDS after reconnecting with her. Jett had grown up on the wealthy side of life. His dad was a business tycoon who’d used Jett’s mother to have his child so one day, he’s have someone to pass his business down to. Once she gave birth to Jett, his father had made sure that she never saw her child again, making Jett grow up without the love of his mother. Because Jett was so soured by his father’s lack of affection toward his mother, Jett made it his mission to grow to be a better man than his dad.

  Knowing Jett never showed an ounce of feelings, I had to man up and be there for him. He would do the same thing for me, even though we had a silent understanding that we never explored our feelings with each other.

  “Damn, I’m sorry, man,” was all I could think to say.

  “Me too,” Jett agreed. He took a deep breath and said, “I just wish I could have done more for her. I wish I’d had more control over the situation. I hate not having control.”

  “I can understand that,” I said lamely. Digging deep, I continued, “I need control too. I need control over everything. I think that’s why I trained myself for all those years and why it took so long for me to hand over my future to a trainer. Without control, I feel lost, almost confused.”

  “Exactly,” Jett said, pulling a little harder on his hair. “I feel anxious, like I can’t breathe.”

  “Like someone is sitting on your chest, clouding your thoughts and ripping your very instincts out from under you,” I added.

  “Do you think I could have saved her?” Jett asked softly.

  Wanting to sound as sincere as possible, I cleared my throat and placed a hand on his shoulder. “No, Jett, I don’t think you could have. I think you gave your mom a loving end to her life. She left on a good note, on a happy note. That is something you should focus on, not the other side of things, because if you focus too much on what you could have done, you will just drive yourself to an early death. It’s not healthy.”

  Jett nodded as he looked at his empty bottle. Taking a deep breath, he sat up and chanced a glance at me. “Shit, things just got profound.” He chuckled.

  Knowing I could easily make a sarcastic comment, I decided not to and agreed with him. “They did, but don’t ever think you can’t talk to me. I know I can be an emotional void at times, but I’m here for you, man. Always will be.”

  “I appreciate that,” Jett said, getting out of his chair. He took a look at his watch and let out a long breath. “I guess I’ll be heading back to my place.”

  “You can stay if you want.” I shrugged, not caring either way.

  “Nah, I think it’s about time we put this little live-in situation we’ve got going on, on the back burner. I think it’s about time we both get some pussy.”

  “Speak for yourself.” I winked.

  A slow smile crept across Jett’s face. “Bullshit. When?”

  “Locker room,” I said with pride.

  “From who, Jono?”

  “Fuck no!” I said, laughing. “One of the ring girls.”

  “Catch her name this time?” Jett asked, shrugging into his jacket.

  “Not quite.”

  “Classic Kace.” Jett shook his head. With a serious look on his face, he added, “Seriously though, I’m proud of you, Kace. You’ve come a long way. You can only go up from here.”

  “I hope so,” I said with a smile.

  I had a house, I had a job, I had a purpose and a goal to maintain. My life was just beginning, and I couldn’t be more excited about what my future held for me.

  Chapter Three

  My present…

  Right hook, left hook, upper cut, upper cut.

  Right hook, left hook, upper cut, upper cut.

  The vibration from hitting the bag in front of me ran through my body as I continuously tried to knock out the bag swinging from side to side. I repeated the cycle over and over in my head at a rapid pace, my arms flying at an uncontrollable rate until I couldn’t breathe anymore.

  Sweat dripped off my face, burning into my eyes, fogging my vision, but I didn’t let it or my shortness of breath stop me. I continued to smoke the bag, to take out my frustration, to help forget. I was always trying to forget.

  Right hook, left hook, upper cut, upper cut.

  Breathing became labored and the burn running through my muscles was more than welcomed by my body. I lived for the burn, for the numbing agent that temporarily eased the sear in my soul.

  Upper cut, upper cut, upper cut….

  “Fuck!” I shouted as I cross-punched the bag, sending it into the air for a moment of relief. With one last spin, I dodged the bag and threw another right hook into it before tearing myself away.

  Catching my breath, I leaned against the cool wall of the training room in Jett’s hotel only a select few had access to.

  The door opened and Goldie popped in, wearing her typical workout gear of short shorts and a tank top.

  Goldie unfortunately was one of the people with access.

  Lyla followed, wearing a sports bra and shorts, looking more provocative than Goldie.

  Lyla was another person with access to the gym. Fuck me.

  The one woman who haunted my dreams was a constant presence in my daily routine thanks to Goldie, my best friend’s girl.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were in here,” Goldie said, startled by my appearance. “Are you done?” she asked, taking in the scene in front of her.

  The hanging bag continued to sway from my forceful punches, sweat marked the mats in a ring around the bag, and my entire body was on fire from my workout. I abused my body every chance I got, and today was no exception.

  “I’m done,” I answered curtly, tearing my gloves off with my teeth.

  “I thought you worked out at night,” Goldie said as she stepped up on the treadmill and started pressing buttons.

  “I do.”

  Avoiding Lyla’s glare, I tore off the tape encasing my hands, wadded it up, threw it in the trash can and grabbed my water. I didn’t want any drama.

  Seeing Lyla was inevitable, but fuck if I didn’t want to bump into her every day, just to see her beautiful face. It would be like running into your ex every damn day, but the funny thing was Lyla and me had never been in a relationship. We just suffered from explosive sexual tension, which in my opinion was worse. My body craved hers in every way possible, but I wasn’t allowed to have her, and fucking someone else wasn’t even a quick fix. It just made the urge to make Lyla mine even more demanding.

  I was heading for the door when Goldie called to me. “Don’t you want to boss me around in here? You never pass up the chance to make me sweat.”

  The sexual innuendo in her tone did not escape me.

  I enjoyed training others, torturing them on the treadmi
ll and then forcing them to do plyometrics until they were ready to collapse. Goldie was the most fun to train because she was a sassy, stubborn woman who always put up a fight, so forcing her to do burpees on command was a real pleasure. But with Lyla in the room, I really wasn’t in the mood.

  Without turning around, I shook my head and said, “Not today.”

  “Kace, what’s wrong?” Goldie asked, sounding sincere.

  “Nothing,” I shot back, making it to the door and ignoring the troubled look on Lyla’s face.

  I grabbed a towel from a shelf on the way out and wrapped it around my neck to absorb some of the sweat that continued to trickle down my soaked skin.

  The physical exertion I’d just put my body through was now a giant waste of time because the stress I’d been trying to reduce had come back full force the minute Lyla walked through the doors.

  Our last real conversation that didn’t involve fighting ran through my mind on constant replay. All she wanted was a little something from me, a little give. She wanted to know who I was, why I didn’t lead my own life, why I refused to accept happiness. But what she wanted I couldn’t give her because that meant explaining myself, and explaining myself wasn’t an option.

  I’d asked her to let it go, to not worry about it, but that wasn’t good enough for her. She needed more; she needed a man with a heart, with the ability to share his life, something that was impossible for me to do.

  The touch of her small hand against my bare chest still branded me. I could still feel her soft body pressed against mine, the weight of her full breasts resting against my skin, her hardened nipples grazing me ever so slightly.

  Fuck!

  I shook my head, downed the rest of my water bottle, and started toward my room. I had some plans for the community center to go over before we were allowed access into the building. I wanted to make sure it was as safe as could be before I allowed the employees inside.

  When Jett had approached me with the idea of managing the place, I’d accepted the opportunity. It was a job I was more than willing to take on because the act of helping others appealed to me. Even though I wasn’t the most approachable person, I still felt the need to help others achieve their dreams since mine were gone.

  “Kace,” Lyla called, making my entire body go numb.

  Why? Why couldn’t she leave me the fuck alone?

  I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. I couldn’t look her in the eyes, the beautiful green eyes that haunted me at night.

  “Kace, can I please talk to you?”

  No, I thought.

  I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to fuck. I needed to fuck her out of my system. That’s what it was. I just needed one more moment in time with her legs wrapped around me, crying my name in the throes of ecstasy.

  That’s what I convinced myself of at least. Well, tried to convince myself.

  “I have things to do, Lyla,” I answered.

  “Turn around,” she said softly and pulled on my shoulder.

  My stomach sank from her tone. I clenched my jaw and willed myself not to turn around and push her up against the wall so I could take what I wanted.

  Taking a deep breath, I looked her in the eyes. Her face was full of concern and questions I had no intention of answering.

  “What?” I asked, rather rudely, but better to be rude than put my heart on the floor for her to stomp on.

  Caught off guard for a second, she searched my eyes. “Can I just talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure, talk.” I gestured for her to continue.

  Gaining courage, she said, “I want to apologize for last night. I wasn’t very nice to you at all, and I shouldn’t have been throwing myself at other guys while you were there.”

  Last night, another way our paths had crossed. Our lives were tangled together because our best friends were engaged. It was an unfair circumstance I had to live with.

  “I don’t care what you do with other men,” I lied.

  In fact, I’d ached last night watching her engage with someone other than myself. Lyla was my crutch, a pleasure I couldn’t allow myself to have. My life was going nowhere. She didn’t need to be sucked into my void. I couldn’t offer her the things she deserved.

  She gave me a pointed look. “That’s why you interrupted my conversation with Diego?”

  She had me there. Diego was my friend, and I’d taken it upon myself to educate him on my unreasonable expectations when it came to Lyla. Basically I couldn’t be with her, but I didn’t want anyone else to be with her either.

  “He’s bad news,” I lied again. Diego was probably one of the most upstanding guys I knew besides Jett. He would never do anything dishonest. The minute he’d found out about my situation with Lyla, he backed off immediately.

  “Sure.” A small smile spread across Lyla’s lips, her soft and full lips.

  “Is that all?” I asked.

  “I just wanted to apologize. I know you’re going through a tough time….”

  “What?” I asked, anger starting to boil up inside of me. “Who told you I was going through a tough time?”

  “I was talking to the girls, and they were saying something about the summer—”

  “Don’t fucking talk to them about me,” I gritted out, interrupting her. Goldie and the Jett Girls loved to gossip and push my buttons. Of course they would talk about me to Lyla. “They know nothing about me, so it’s best you all mind your own fucking business. Got it?” I tried to contain my rage, but it was hard not to get in her face, to startle her enough to leave me alone. She didn’t need to be snooping around in my past. That was the last thing I wanted her to do. She didn’t need to be exposed to my weaknesses.

  She took a step away from me, a little shocked from the anger pouring off of me. Guilt ran through me from startling her so much. I didn’t want her to see this side of me, this bitter, hateful man, but I didn’t know how to be any other way. It was rare when I could really be myself and those moments were usually with Jett, who knew my sins, knew the demons I faced every day.

  “Why won’t you just talk to me?” she asked.

  Rubbing my face with the towel, I tried to stomp out the frustration I felt before I lashed out in a way I knew I would regret later.

  “Lyla, it’s none of your business. You’ve made it quite clear I’m not the man for you, so why can’t you just drop it?”

  “Because I think we have something in common.”

  The woman was delusional. I shook my head and draped the towel over my head, forming a faux hood. I pulled on the ends while I looked at her. “You couldn’t be further from the truth. We have absolutely nothing in common.”

  The cautious woman who’d confronted me morphed into one of defiance now. She poked my bare chest and said, “You know, Kace, you’re not the only one with a shitty past. You’re not the only one suffering, so stop acting like it. There are plenty of people around you who’ve had as much misfortune as you, maybe even worse. I mean, what really happened? You can’t be a boxer anymore? Big fucking deal. There are worse things than that.”

  I shook my head and didn’t allow her to provoke me. I knew she was trying to get the truth out of me, but what she didn’t know was I’ve been holding my truth in for so long, I’d become a master at denying and deflecting.

  “You act as if you’re troubled, Lyla,” I stated coolly.

  She crossed her arms and stuck her chin up in the air, a defiant stance I knew well, thanks to my interactions with Goldie.

  “If I was I wouldn’t be telling you.”

  It was almost cute how she was trying to hold back, but what kept me from pushing her buttons some more was the darkness that shadowed her eyes. At that moment, I remembered that in fact, there really was something troubling her. Something deep, something that penetrated her surface and hit her hard, a kind of trouble that only one who was fighting the same kind of demons would recognize.

  My face softened some as I took her in. “If you want to talk about it, I�
�m here,” I stated.

  “You can’t be serious. Do you really think I would talk to you about anything? Ugh, you’re so frustrating,” she said, turning away, clearly needing space. I watched her long legs move gracefully down the hallway before she stopped and turned back. “I don’t get it, Kace. I really don’t. I thought we had a connection. I thought there was something between us. I don’t understand why you keep pushing me away when I can see in your eyes how much you want me. Why are you denying yourself?”

  “You know why.” I spoke softly.

  “I really don’t,” she shouted. “But I fucking wish I did.”

  Not giving me a chance to respond, she returned to the gym, most likely to vent to Goldie. I could only envision what my night was going to be like when Goldie confronted me later about treating her friend poorly. There was one thing you could always count on when it came to Goldie; she spoke her mind.

  I needed to cut that conversation off before it even had a chance to happen, so instead of going back to my room, I went to Jett’s office. I never needed to schedule a meeting to see him.

  Since the Lafayette Club, Jett’s old club for city elites, was non-existent at the moment, Jett’s office was in the same apartment as his living space, making it very uncomfortable to pay him a visit since most of the time he had Goldie on his desk, eye-fucking her and making her promises about what he was going to do to her later.

  Luckily for me, Goldie was working out, so I didn’t have to be a witness to the engaged couple who had yet to set a date.

  Not bothering to knock, I pushed through Jett’s door and headed toward the little room in the back where he housed his office. Jeremy, his assistant, was just exiting. Jeremy took in my shirtless appearance and didn’t bother to cover up the blatant perusal he gave me. What did I care? It was flattering when someone checked me out, guy or girl.

  “Mr. Haywood, what a pleasure,” he said with a smile, an almost wicked grin on his lips.

  “Jeremy, nice to see you. Is Jett in his office?”

  “Yes. Can I get you anything? Maybe another water bottle?”

  “I’m good. Thanks though,” I said politely and pushed past him into the office. The pleasantries were over.