That’s okay. The ones that do stay, they offer me a good glimpse at not only how they fight, if their name is selected, but also an insight into who they are as people. I may have come in to the fights as a complete novice, having only really duked it out with my brother when I was much younger, but I knew enough not to have a big ego. Some of these new guys, they think their shit don’t stink.
I can’t wait to me them in a match.
Satisfied I have the capability of beating the guys I see fight, I pull out my phone to tell Celia I’m not picked and to meet me at my place. After reading her agreement and pocketing my phone, I search out Stretch and give him a fist-bump.
“I’m outta here, man.”
“Already?”
“Yeah, I got some things to do tonight.” I don’t mention it’s Celia or that she agreed to watch porn with me because it turns her on so fucking much. There are just some things I like to keep private. And one of those is definitely that my chick can’t help the way her pussy gets so slippery every time we watch one of those movies. Especially the ones with lots of pussy eating and little “money shots’ as Celia finds though stupid and not arousing for her.
“Oh yeah, what’s her name?” Stretch asks with a wink and a laugh.
“Whatever man,” I tell him with a laugh back.
“Ain’t seen Cecelia around last couple of weeks,” he comments as his laugh dies away. His eyes are looking at the crowd, scanning those in attendance. I wonder briefly if he’s looking for her. But I try to shrug it off.
“And?” My laugh is gone, quick like it’d never come. This is getting really frustrating. I hate how the guys are always talking about Celia, how guys are always asking about her or suggesting things about her. I hate even more that I can’t completely fight against it either.
“Just curious,” he shrugs. “Seems she only shows when you fight. That’s interesting.”
“Not really. See you next week.” I turn to leave, not interested in this conversation anymore. I don’t get very far though when I hear my name. It’s not Stretch saying it. It’s fucking Fife, and some blond I don’t know. She looks completely out of place here. Frilly yellow sundress, wedge sandals, blond hair braided loose over her left shoulder. She looks like she belongs in Good Housekeeping rather than on a street in the Southside.
And standing next to the groupies with their halter tops and short shorts or skirts, she definitely looks out of place.
Celia may not dress like those girls, but she looks like she fits in. Hard life. Difficult choices. They’ve given an edge to Cecelia. This girl, she’s like a fucking goody-goody.
“Who’s that?” I nod my head toward the group.
“Think her name is Hayley or something,” Stretch answers as I move back toward him so our conversation isn’t overheard. “Showed up last week after you’d left. People thought she was some kind of snitch or something so some of the girls questioned her pretty good. Doesn’t seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed, if you get my meaning.”
“She with Fife?” She’s flirting pretty hard at him. Touching his arm, giggling and doing that weird head tilt that reminds of a dog rather than an endearing act by a person. I will never understand why some girls think that look is cute. It’s more insulting than anything. But apparently dickheads like Fife eat it up.
“Not that I know of. They didn’t talk last week, at least. Fred was trying to chat her up. She didn’t leave with him though. At least not that I’m aware.”
I shake my head. She looks so out of place here. And hanging out with the groupies, and especially Fife, makes me think not only is she out of place, but she’s a fucking idiot too. “Why the hell they talking about me?”
“No idea, man.” Stretch gives me a shrug. “I’ll let you know if anything comes from it though, if you’re still leaving, that is.”
“Yeah, I’m going.” I’m bothered by this. Fife is not a fan of me at all. I can’t imagine why he’d be having a conversation about me with some stranger.
As though she knows we’re talking about her, Hayley or whatever, looks away from Fife and right at me. She smiles. It’s a sweet smile, full of teeth and sugar. I don’t smile back. I don’t acknowledge her at all. But she still continues to smile and then offers a small wave.
“Looks like you have a new fan,” Stretch laughs at me as he punches lightly against my shoulder. “I’d be careful of the sweet looking ones though, they always seem to be more trouble than they’re worth.”
I open my mouth to tell him I have no desire to test his theory. I have someone sweet and spicy and full of everything I need waiting for me. Instead, and I don’t know why I don’t say anything to that effect, I tell him to fuck off and I leave.
Looking back, and hindsight being the bitch that it is, I can see my folly.
It would have been so easy to dispel every fucking rumor running rampant about me. About Cecelia. It would have been so easy to shut all the talk down in one breath. Cemented truth and offered proclamations that nothing could penetrate. It would have been so completely fucking easy. And though it might have come off as a shock, or possibly even not believed initially, at least I could have known, looking back, everything would have been fine.
Instead, my relationship with Celia stayed between us. Instead, it remained in the shadows. Looking back, I can see how fucking foolish that was. I can see how big of a disaster it turned out to be.
NINTEEN
It’s been raining for two weeks straight. The fights don’t take a rest though. Just like in the winter, we battle through the elements until a winner is crowned. The first night of rain, I’m not picked to fight. So I text Celia to let her know she doesn’t need to show up. I tell her I’ll be leaving after the first rounds are over.
While leaning against the side of a rundown apartment building to keep out of the elements, I find I have a neighbor sharing my space.
“You’re Chace, right?”
I look to my left, see the newest groupie addition standing beside me. She’s once again in a sundress, purple this time, with a lighter shade sweater draped across her shoulders. She’s soaked, hair slicked back, and I can’t help noticing her nipples standing at attention under the thin material of her dress. Her tits are small, but her nipples are prominent.
“Yeah,” I respond pulling my attention back toward the street where the guys are fighting. I wasn’t paying attention when names were called, too focused on getting out of the rain, so I just watch their moves.
“I’m Hayley. Hayley Roberts.” She offers me her hand, nails neat and painted a purple to match her dress and I just stare at it like she’s crazy. When I don’t shake her hand, she drops it to her side, but still smiles at me. “You are a really good fighter.” Her voice is soft, kind of breathless, with a high almost Valley-girl lilt to it.
“Uh, thanks.”
“Have you been fighting long?”
I contain the desire to roll my eyes. She sounds like a fangirl. Or someone trying to do an interview for Seventeen magazine or some shit. “A few years now.” I never take my eyes off the fight, watching through the downpour as one of the guys goes down. I hear Brees counting down, but before he gets very far, the guy gets back up.
“Wow that’s so cool. I just moved to the area.” I look at her then, looking her up and down because really? She laughs at my look. “Well, not this area. We live in Wicker Park, Daddy and I.” Little rich girl runs through my head and Hayley keeps talking. “You ever go to Wicker Park?”
“Not really,” I respond watching the end of the first match. “Not exactly rolling in money to be seen at a place like that.”
“I wouldn’t turn you away.” Her fingers trail down my arm as she steps closer. I look down at her face, at the freckles that line her nose, and into her brown eyes. She must take my attention as an invitation as she steps closer still, the front of her dress brushing against me. “I wouldn’t turn you away at all.”
“That’s great,” I say stepping out
of her reach. I check my phone for the time, see Celia should be off soon and decide to head out. “It was nice meeting you, but I gotta go.”
“I’ll see you around.”
I don’t know what to make of Hayley Roberts.
When I show up the following week, I’m selected, and during my matches, I hear a distinct female voice cheering my name. I ignore her as best I can, ignore the comments from my opponents about my “new pussy” and any comments they make about Celia. I manage to make it to the Friday main event after beating Certs, and while waiting for the final round to start, a round I will face Jacko in, Celia shows.
Of course she shows right when Hayley is trying to talk to me.
“Wow, you are just so great. I’d heard how amazing you are, but seeing it in person is so awesome.”
“Yeah thanks.”
She giggles, twirling a strand of blond hair, worn down tonight, around her fingers. “My daddy would be so mad if he knew I was here.” She says this like it’s a secret she’s sharing with me. Sharing like I should care. Given the trajectory of my life, moments that led me to this, me on these streets fighting like I do, I don’t care why she’s here. “He’s in banking. Has a very respectable job. I can just imagine his face if he were to find out who I’ve been hanging around with Friday and Saturday nights.”
“And who are you hanging out with?” I ask and then regret it. It sounds too much like I’m interested, which I’m not.
“Well, you’ve got to be honest, Chace. This isn’t the most legal of things.”
“No shit.” I look up and see Celia standing across the way, watching this interaction. I feel guilt, low and deep in my belly. I’m not doing anything wrong, but it’s the look on Celia’s face that has me thinking I might have been. “Great talking to you,” I say and move to walk to where Celia is standing, arms crossed over a pink spaghetti strap shirt with a skull print on it, matching her black and pink plaid skirt, black knee-high socks and her worn Adidas shoes.
“Who is that?” she asks as I move to kiss her. Instead of hitting her lips though, I hit air.
Standing up straight, trying to ignore the rejection, I sigh heavily. “Who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” There is no smile on Cecelia’s face.
“I don’t know, some groupie. She’s been here a few times I guess.”
“And what does she want with you?”
“To talk, I guess? She was telling me all about daddy and how he wouldn’t like her hanging out with these types.” I roll my eyes.
“Uh-huh.” Celia says, her eyes narrowing behind me. I turn to look real quick, and that’s when we both see Hayley blow a kiss in my direction. “Seems one of the groupies has taken an interest in you. Funny. All the other girls flock to you like a bitch in heat and you ignore them, this one though, you give her the time of day.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When was the last time you spoke to any of the females here? As I recall, you told me the answer to that is never. So why her? Why now?” Celia is angry and normally her anger is a turn on. Right now, it’s bothersome. I don’t mention how she talks to some of the guys, how she seems to flirt with some of them if they speak to her. I don’t bring up the things they tell me, how they claim to have seen her outside of these matches, when I’m not with her. I keep it all to myself.
It’s not worth fighting over. Especially when I have a match to win.
And I do. I knock out my opponent in no time. Beating Jacko has always been easy, tonight is no exception.
While Celia and I go home and celebrate my win, there’s a tension there that has never existed before. It bothers me. She’s not jealous, and maybe I want her to be a little bit. Instead she’s angry and I can’t handle that. But I use the emotions it’s created to my advantage taking down my Saturday opponent just as quick as I beat Jacko.
The following week, things are still tense between us. I make the mistake of suggesting Celia talks to all the guys, so why can’t I talk to Hayley. That is apparently the wrong thing to say because I don’t see or hear from Celia for a good two days after that. I don’t know what’s going on all of a sudden, but I don’t like it.
The night of the fight, I text her to let her know I’m fighting and she surprisingly texts back telling me she’ll be by after her shift it over. I feel good that maybe we can fix whatever is going on.
“Hey, Chace,” Hayley tells me as I get ready for my first fight. “Have a good week?”
“It was okay,” I answer and start trying to loosen my muscles.
“Who was the girl you were talking to last week? She your girlfriend?”
It’s an innocent enough question. At least, it should be. This situation though, I know it’s not. “Why do you want to know?”
“I was just curious is all.”
I narrow my eyes at Hayley, knowing she’s got more to say. “Why?”
She shrugs, her pale shoulders exposed against a pink dress. “It’s just, well, I heard some things about her. Cecelia right?”
The air leaves my lungs though I try not to show it. “And what did you hear?”
“Just that, she’s not really…discriminating about who she gives her time to.”
“Good thing you don’t know what you’re talking about then, huh.” I walk away, ripping my shirt off to go fight my first round. It’s a blur. As is my second round. Celia shows up in the middle of the Friday main where I pummel Brutal before he can say a word.
Saturday night is no better. If anything it’s worse.
Standing off to the side, watching people show up, watching organizers shuffle names around to draw, I am so focused on trying to keep my head clear that I don’t notice Hayley walk up to me until she starts speaking.
“Chace?” she says my name, startling me.
“Oh hey.” I barely pay her a look, trying to stay relaxed. Trying to keep from thinking about anything other than what I need to do tonight. Especially after the way last night ended. Cecelia may have left with me, we may have fucked, but it’d felt forced, felt like just going through the motions. Felt like I didn’t know her at all.
“I just wanted to apologise for what I said last night.”
I look at Hayley, see her face contrite, her lips tipped in a frown. “Why?”
She shrugs. I watch as she twists her fingers together, the act looking unnatural even though I don’t know this girl at all to know what is and isn’t a normal twitch for her. “I just, well, I feel like I spoke out of turn.” A small smile paints her lips. Her face is still apologetic. “I mean if you’re okay with this type of thing, who am I to say anything, right?”
“Okay with what, exactly?”
Hayley inhales deeply, her fingers now playing with a loose string on the front of her dress. “I mean just that Cecelia you know, hangs out with the other guys.” Her eyes are wide as she says this. Her voice soft. “I didn’t realize it, at least not at the time, but she works at that Coco Pazzo place off Hubbard, right?” I nod because that’s true. But what that has to do with anything, I have no idea. Nor do I have any idea why it should matter to this girl.
“I just, well, I mean I saw her there a few times when Daddy wanted me to accompany him on his business meetings. I saw her. Working, you know?” she stammers out.
“And?”
“There are a lot of guys who frequent the bar. They flirt a lot with the bartenders. Probably trying to score a free drink or something, you know?” She giggles like it’s no big deal. I wouldn’t know this though. I don’t go to bars so I’ve never needed to buy a drink or barter for a free one. Hayley doesn’t know this though. I have no plans to inform her either. But I can’t help but think about Cecelia, being hit on constantly while working.
“What are you trying to say?” I’m getting frustrated. All the calm I’d been working on achieving is quickly floating away.
“I just though you should know, I may have seen some of them pass her their number. And I may have seen
her take the numbers.”
My name is called to fight after that.
So I don’t get a chance to tell Hayley she’s wrong. I don’t a chance to say it doesn’t matter, that I know Celia wouldn’t do that because she probably took the number, pretending she was keeping it, only to toss it after the guy has left. I don’t get to do anything but go fight with a cloud of irritation surrounding me.
I don’t remember ripping my shirt off or stepping into the ‘ring.’ I don’t remember who it is I fight, in any match. I don’t recall anything until the moment my hand is being raised in the air, the ‘pig’ districts ringmaster declaring me the winner and then six grand in cash being thrust into my hand.
Everything is a blur.
Everything is chaos.
I’m troubled by this. By the fact that I am so lost in a haze of confusion and the building of anger and betrayal, that nothing registers to me. I can’t help but wonder if my years drinking, using, and abusing my body have led to this state of mind. But then I feel that’s a copout for the bigger picture. And that bigger picture is the possibility that someone who is supposed to have my back may in fact be the one stabbing it.
I see Celia standing off to the side and I walk to her without uttering a word. Grabbing her hand, I drag her along as we head to her place this time. It’s a longer walk, but I need the time to calm down, to come back to reality.
She doesn’t speak as we trudge up the stairs to her apartment. She doesn’t speak as she unlocks the door and leads me to her bedroom. I’m thankful her roommate doesn’t appear to be home. Neither one of us utters a word until we’re behind the door to her room, caged in her personal space.
“I have a question for you.”
My voice is rough. Full of gravel.
“Do you flirt with the guys who come to the bar?”
The Bitter (Addiction #1) Page 15