“What? Where’d that come from?”
I exhale heavily, adrenaline pumping through my veins, making me need to pace. “Do you flirt with the guys you serve?” I ask again. My feet cross the beige carpet, leading in a path in front of her bed from the door to her night stand. On my next pass, I move to run my hands through my hair, waiting for her to answer when I see it.
When I see everything fall into place.
“What the hell is this?” My feet come to a stop in front of the night stand as my hands reach out. There’s a piece of paper resting near her lamp, the name Craig written sloppily above a phone number. The words ‘call me’ shout into the silence. The silence Cecelia still hasn’t broken with an answer. “What the hell is this, Cecelia?”
“It’s not what you think it is,” she starts and I hold up my hand. It’s such a clichéd line. And I do not want to be pandered to.
“No? So this isn’t some other guy’s number?” My conversation with Hayley comes back. It’s the only thing I can really remember completely about the whole night. Probably because I was so adamant it couldn’t be true when it’s looking more and more like I’m wrong. “I mean call me crazy, but this looks like some other guy’s fucking number. In your room. Next to your bed. Where you can call him if you want to!”
“Why are you acting like this?” Celia starts, her raspy voice cracking. “Yes, some guy gave me his number. Yes, I took it. I put it in my pocket, he gave me a nice tip with it so I acted like I cared. That’s what usually happens, I act like I care.” She glares at me, talking to me like I’m stupid. “I had every intention of throwing it away, like I always do, but then I got really busy and didn’t have time last night. I was rushing as it was to get to the fight since we closed so late because of a bachelor party. I completely forgot all about it so when I got back to my room, I found it when I was changing.” She takes a breath as she stares at me. “When I got back I had to rush to get ready so I threw it on the night stand with every intention of tossing it. Like I always do.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I hear my own voice ready to tell Hayley this exact same thing. But I also hear Hayley’s voice telling me how indiscriminate she’s heard, seen, Celia with other guys. “So you’re not stepping out on me? Because all things considered-“
“What things?”
“I don’t know, the fact that I hear from so many guys how they have had a taste of you. How I have to hear from some fucking stranger that she’s seen you do some questionable things. And how you have-”
“Oh you mean little Miss Rich Bitch? Yeah, take her word for it.”
“Why would she lie?”
“Why wouldn’t she lie? And for that matter, why would I lie to you after everything we’ve been through together? That makes no sense, Chace!”
That’s the first night, after a fight, that Celia and I do not spend together.
I don’t know what to believe. And I’m angry. Angry that she would keep a number, even if her reason is justifiable, but it’s the idea of hearing it, of someone having seen it, only to discover it’s actually true. So I walk out of her room. I walk out of her apartment. I go home and I don’t look back.
TWENTY
Work sucks. We have a really big project that we’re behind schedule on and the site Super spends most of the week yelling at us to get our asses in gear. Well, he yells at everyone else. I’m the only one pushing forward, moving and keeping a quick pace. I have to.
Since I walked away from Celia on Saturday, I haven’t heard from her. Though I’m hardly surprised. No, that’s not true. I figured she would have tried to clear things up. Even if it’s admitting to, well, anything, at least then I could figure out where we should go from here. Instead, nothing but silence.
I’ve never really gone this long without speaking with Celia. We’ve had our ups and downs, but will always come back to one another. It’s who we are. Who we’ve always been. But somewhere along the way, things changed. Or perhaps she’s changed. Then again, I can’t be sure because she is avoiding me.
Not that I’ve really made all that much effort into contacting her either. But still.
I am working extra-long days so by the time I get off of work, all I want is go crash. Which I do. Alone. Which is definitely not something I’m used to.
By the time Friday night comes, I still have yet to see or hear from Cecelia. It pisses me off to no end. Even more so once the guys start in on me. And I have no way to defend against their words.
“Did you know Cecelia works real late into the night sometimes? She and that foxy red-headed bartender bitch she hangs out with sure do like drinking with the customers.”
“Man, she totally called me for a hook up the other day. Too bad I was with my side chick to hit that. Next time though, bro.”
“So Chace, saw your slut the other night. Man, that tattoo on her back is something wicked. Especially watching it as I bent her over my couch.”
“When’d you hit that, Fife?” Banksy asks, laughing. They’re all laughing.
“While Chacey-boy here was at work. Cecelia works the late shift. This bitch has a day shift.”
My heart drops at Fife’s words. At all of their words. Celia is drinking? She’d always swore, because of my problem, she wouldn’t. She may have spent most of her work history in and out of bars, but it has never been something she cared about. And because of me, she never wanted to disrespect my recovery by imbibing. But fuck, I know she’d taken that guy’s number, and I wanted to believe her so badly that it was an accident, that she had meant to throw it away. But if she’s calling one of these assholes? Especially when she knows how disrespectful they are not only to me but to her as well? Fuck!
What is she thinking? Is she even thinking at all?
Worst of all of it though are the words from Fife. I want to believe the bit about the tattoo, his view of it, he’s making it up because she’s worn clothes that show it off before. When the summer nights are so hot she wears those loose shirts with the open back. I want so badly to believe that is the truth. But the other part? The part about being with her while I’m at work, which would fucking work out, that has my stomach turning over.
I can’t show that though. So I try my best to ignore. I try my best to focus on Brees calling my name to fight. Try to focus on defeating Marcos – which I do – and then beating Silas and Cadillo. Which again, I do. But I can’t focus on anything the moment she shows up.
I can’t focus because there Cecelia walks, resting almost too fucking perfectly under Frankie’s arm as she smiles and laughs at him. She sees me, notices me notice her, but doesn’t really acknowledge me. Frankie does. Gives me a quick wave as he continues on with his conversation with my fucking girlfriend.
I am so completely focused on watching this disaster play out before me that I don’t notice Hayley until she touches my arm. “Sucks you have to see that.” Still watching Celia and Frankie move to lean against the side of a building together, I seethe inside. And I’m only half paying attention to Hayley until she says the one thing I don’t want to hear. “I saw them.”
“You saw what?”
“I just got here,” she says like I should have noticed she had been missing. I didn’t know it, and it isn’t something I cared to know. “I saw them as I was making my way in.”
“What did you see?”
“They were…well, they were up against one of the buildings going at it pretty hot and heavy. It looked like there might have even been penetration.” She says the last word as though it might bite her if she says it too loud. I want to laugh because it’s nothing but innocence and a lack of real exposure to the world I’ve known for the last eight or such years. I don’t laugh though, because this is so far from funny. “I just, I didn’t think they’d walk in together, you know? At least tried to hide it. Show some decorum.”
I nod at her, my eyes back on the easy way Celia and Frankie are conversing. They’re standing apart now, with her leaning completely back
against the wall and him leaning into it. I must be staring pretty hard, because Cecelia looks my way, her smile falling no doubt from the look on my face. I’m so fucking angry, I don’t even notice Hayley’s hand is still on my arm.
I hear Brees call my name and it sounds distorted. It sounds like I’m under water. I step away from Hayley and over to the ring. I’m fighting Banksy.
I do roll my eyes as he smiles at me like he’s already won. I really can’t stand this guy.
I don’t register the rules. I don’t register the fight. I don’t hear any more words Banksy has to say to me, though I know he has to have been talking. None of it matters to me. Not even the moment Brees declares me the winner, thrusts money in my hand and tells me where to meet tomorrow night for Saturday’s matchup.
The only thing I recall is looking one more time at Cecelia, seeing her still standing next to Frankie. After that I storm off. I don’t take her home with me. I don’t celebrate my victory with her. I go home alone.
Of course just because I do this doesn’t mean I get away from her.
I ignore Celia’s knocks on my door. Ignore her voice mingling with Frankie’s as they discuss what my potential problem is and how none of this makes sense. I ignore the moment when she leaves, the front door closing as Frankie tells her goodnight. Hours later, long after my phone has been blowing up with phone calls and voicemails, followed by text messages from her, I shut my phone off.
By the time the sun is rising Saturday morning, I’m restless, full of anger, and needing to move after being locked up in my room all night. I dress quickly in sweats and a t-shirt deciding to run my aggression out. I’ve never been a runner before, but after I’d started fighting, it was an easy way to build up endurance for the fights.
Opening my bedroom door, I notice all the lights are off and Frankie’s door is closed across the way. Shaking my head, I cross the apartment quickly, opening the door to find Celia sitting just outside.
She immediately notices me and jumps to her feet. I wonder how long she’s been out here, sitting, waiting. It wonder if she’s slept out here considering she is still wearing the same clothes she had on last night. “Why are you avoiding me?”
Ignoring her question, I jog down the stairs but she catches me just as I reach the lobby.
“Chace!”
“What?”
“I asked you a question. Why are you avoiding me?”
I laugh low and bitter. “You are a piece of work, you know that?” It’s a rhetorical question. “Acting like you don’t know what’s going on. Pretending to be something you’re not. And here I am, the fucking moron who believed it all.”
“Believed what?” she asks as we step outside finally, away from prying neighbors. “Is this about the guys? What they say about me?”
“It’s not just them, Cecelia. I see it. I see things.”
“What? What do you see? Huh?”
“You flirt with all of them. Give them your time of day. You, shit, you walked in with Frankie tonight. He had his fucking arm around you for Christ’s sake!” I’m raging now. All my pent up everything has broken through the surface. This betrayal, I can’t handle it. “And someone saw you two together. They saw you together.”
She just stares at me. I can’t tell if it’s a look of guilt or confusion. I settle on guilt though, because the only thing she’d probably be confused about is who said it. “Wow. I can’t…I can’t even believe I’m hearing this.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe you would play me like this. All these years and what? Worthless. Wasted.” She tries to speak, perhaps to make excuses or give me some sob story but I hold my hand up stopping her. “You know, thinking about it now, I wish I’d never have met you. I wish I would have listened to my father when he made it a point to tell me to stay away from the likes of you. Maybe if I had, well, hindsight. Knowing you has been the biggest mistake of my life. And that’s saying something right? Especially considering how I’m a fucking addict and all. Leave me alone. I never want to see you again. Got it?”
I take off into a run, not bothering to look back or hear her out, completely ignoring the sob that I hear tear from her. There’s nothing she can say to me now that would change my mind.
She’s destroyed us. Ruined everything we were. And while my words might have been harsh, they have to become my truth. I can’t allow her that power anymore. I have to realize Cecelia Santos is not the girl she claimed to be. And there’s no point trying to pretend otherwise.
TWENTY-ONE
I’ve not yet calmed by the time I’m due to fight. We’re fighting in the ‘dog’ district. Like the ‘pig’ district, which got its name because it stinks, or my district, ‘raven’ because it’s very dark, ‘dog’ is named because there are tons of stray dogs running about. It’s about a mile or two away from my area so I run there.
I’m so amped up by the time I reach the make-shift ring, I’m not even out of breath. I make it a point to ignore the talk going on around me. I make it a point not to even look in the direction of the speaker, lest he thinks I’m giving him or his words credence. Lest he thinks anything he has to say is getting to me. It is. It has. But I don’t want anyone to know it.
I ignore the girls standing along the perimeter, their giggles and cheers grating my nerves if I pay too close attention to them. And I definitely ignore Hayley, even when she tries to come speak with me. She tries, once again to apologise for giving me information and essentially bursting an eight year bubble.
I blow her off, though. Ready myself for my fight and try not to focus on anything but the adrenaline coursing through me.
I make it through my first round. A guy named Bill who doesn’t talk shit. A guy who just wants a chance to beat people up so he gave the fights a try. He does all right but in the end, I take him down. We shake, he wishes me luck and he goes on his way.
Second and third rounds are a little harder. Ace, my former coworker who is bulkier than I ever remember him being, is first. He’s come a long way, according to many of the other fighters, so I have my work cut out for me with him.
He talks of getting a beer later, catching up because he didn’t know I fought all that much. Guess he’d heard about some guy named Chace on a winning streak but never made it this far so he never put two and two together. I tell him sure, though I’m sure it’s just talk. Either way, at least he keeps his trap shut when it comes to my personal life.
And then I fight against Loco, some weird guy who says he’s in the country illegally from Mexico but doesn’t look or sound like he’s from south of the border. If anything, I’d guess he’s bored with his life and since people say all kinds of stuff at these fights, no one is going to exactly check his references.
For my final fight, I once again blow Hayley off as she tries to come offer me a wish of good luck. I merely nod at her, tell her ‘thanks’ and begin pacing to put myself in the zone of defeating my opponent. When it’s time to fight, I move to the ring, see it’s a guy named Zed who I’ve heard his good but I’ve never fought before.
Stan, one of the district’s ringmasters rambles off his typical spiel as Zed and I stare at one another. There’s no communication between us other than a look of intimidation. But the moment Stan starts the fight, that all changes.
“Where’s your girl?” Zed asks, his eyes staying on mine, no doubt daring me to look. I don’t, but it doesn’t stop my eyes from wanting to. Every fight I’ve been in, since the moment she found out, Celia has always shown. If she couldn’t show for the start of them, she sure as shit worked hard to make it for the final round. And I always knew she was coming. Even if it meant she was there at the end to congratulate me, I still had faith that my biggest cheerleader would be there. Not this time though.
I walked, or well, ran, away from her and she hasn’t tried contacting me again.
Good. Maybe she got the message.
I’m not someone you betray like this. I’m not someone you play this kind of game with.
“What’s wrong? She don’t like you no more?” Zed questions when I remain silent. “Girl like that? Fuck man, I’ve heard things about her. Man the shit some of these guys want her to do to them. Fucking funny shit there.” I throw a punch and miss. He’s able to duck out of my way before landing one of his own. It connects right against my eye, stunning me briefly. “It true she’s your good luck charm?”
His question catches me off guard and he’s able to get another hit in. I feel the blow against my ribs and wonder how bad the bruising will be.
“Maybe she can be my charm.”
“Fuck you,” I tell him through a wheeze. He just laughs and lands another hit, once more against my ribs.
“Go Chace! You can do it!” I hear Hayley shout and it throws off my concentration.
Zed just laughs. “Nice cheering section you got over there. Your girl know about that one? Preppy princess trying to fuck around with a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Seen that enough in my time to know how so far from decent you living.” I swing again, connecting with his jaw, forcing Zed to stumble, but it doesn’t throw him off at all. If anything he just laughs at me harder. “Oh son, you are in one shit of a mess.”
I don’t realize it, but he’s right.
Zed is older than me. I know from hearing things he’s a good fighter. The thing though, I’m not even really giving him that much of a fight. And I’m not holding back. But it’s a combination of his words and circumstance that is causing my undoing.
Celia is not here tonight. Even without looking around to check for her, I can feel that she’s not here. Because I’ve always known. I know I told her to stay away from me, but the part of me that has been so connected to her for so long can’t understand her absence. It’s as though I’ve lost a limb, missing and I know it but it still feels like it should be there regardless.
And I sure as hell don’t want to think about her being my good luck charm though for all intents and purposes, I didn’t start winning until she showed up.
The Bitter (Addiction #1) Page 16