Healing Melody

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Healing Melody Page 13

by Grey, Priya


  “I can’t believe I cried like that. I’m such a pussy,” I mutter.

  “Grown men cry, Kade. It’s good to let out your emotions,” she says.

  I look at her and grin. Then I kiss her one more time.

  As our lips part, she looks at me and sighs.

  “That song,” she says. “I wrote it the night you were at the fight. My label released it today. It hit number one.”

  I’m surprised by the defeated look on her face.

  “Most people would be happy about a thing like that,” I say.

  She looks at me, her face filled with worry. “They want me to tour this summer, Kade. I’m petrified. People are going to be so cruel,” she fears. “When they see me, looking like this.”

  “Fuck them,” I tell her. “You can take it.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  “Not at all. Every day will be a battle. But you’re a fighter.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m not like you.”

  “Yes, you are,” I tell her. “That’s why when we fuck, it’s so amazing. We’ve got the same spirit. We just got the shit kicked out of us for a bit. We both lost our way. But you’ve got a gift, Melody. You’re still here so you can share it with the world.”

  “So, it’s now or never, you’re basically telling me.”

  I shrug. “There’s never going to be a good time. Just like there’s never enough time to train for a fight. You just have to get in there and slug it out. But I don’t need to tell you any of this. You just wrote a song about it.”

  “You know the only good thing that came from my accident?” she whispers.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I met you.”

  As I pull her closer to me, I’m filled with a sense of gratitude. I’m happy to be here, with her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I’m standing outside the octagon in my gym, watching Luke spar with that kid, Rico. But my mind is elsewhere. It’s focused on her. I can’t stop thinking about Melody, about last night. We bared our souls to each other. Lying on her living room floor, I told her about Max, about his illness, how my life fell apart after he died. I told her about Shane, how he paid for Max’s treatment. But in exchange, he hires me out through his website, and now he owns my gym. I told her everything… even how close I came to killing myself. Melody just listened and let me speak. I got it all off my chest. It was such a relief to finally share this burden with someone else. To tell someone all the shit I’ve been feeling.

  Last night, I was more honest with Melody than I’ve ever been with another human being.

  I hear a loud thud. Luke has thrown Rico to the mat.

  “Guys, take a break,” I shout.

  They both look at me and nod. In all honesty, it’s me who needs a break: a break from thinking about her.

  I head to my office to go over some paperwork. As I plop down in my chair, I hear Shane say, “Damn, this place is getting crowded.”

  I turn and see him standing in the doorway. His two goons, Vince and Leo, are behind him.

  “We’ve had a couple of new people join this week,” I tell him.

  “Because they heard about your beat down?”

  I shrug. “Maybe.”

  Shane walks into the office with a grin. He hands me his phone.

  “Have you seen this?”

  I glance at the screen and watch a video clip of my tornado kick knocking out Mitch Cork. It’s my first time seeing it. I gotta admit: it’s a work of beauty.

  “He was out before he hit the floor,” Shane says.

  I hand him back his phone. “I had a moment.”

  “Yeah, you fuckin’ had a moment. That shit was legend, Kade.”

  “Like you said, maybe there’s still some fight in me.”

  Shane takes a seat opposite my desk. He looks around my office. Although technically, it’s his office… for now.

  “Well, now that the fight is over, I want to get you back on the site.”

  “About that,” I say. “I can’t do the site any more.”

  I see Shane’s relaxed manner change. His face hardens.

  “That’s not how this works, Kade.”

  “If you want me to pay you back all your money, I can’t go back on the site.”

  Shane leans back, confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  I slide open my desk drawer and remove an envelope. I toss it at him. His eyes widen as he looks inside and sees the wad of hundred dollar bills.

  “There’s more,” I tell him. “I just can’t take it all out of my bank account. Something about withdrawal limits. I need to wire it to you or something.”

  Shane stares at me like he wants to kiss me. Like I said, there’s nothing he loves more than money.

  “How much we talking?”

  I shrug. “Probably enough to pay back all I owe you in the next few months. My last client, she’s somebody famous. She took a liking to me; and she wants to put me on retainer. She’s paying me two hundred thousand a month to help her out. I didn’t want to mention it until I knew the deal was legit and the money was for real.”

  He stares at me, still shocked.

  “Two hundred Gs? A month?”

  I nod.

  His face gets deadly serious. He leans forward. “Kade,” he says slowly, in a low tone. “I ain’t gay. But if I ever try it, you’ve got to be the one who fucks me, because that cock of yours must be magical. It’s the gift that just keeps on fuckin’ giving.” He grins then stands up. “Fuck me, this is going to be a good month!” he shouts.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Shane this happy. I glance at Vince and Leo, who are standing outside my office. For a split second, I catch an expression of surprise on their faces.

  Shane closes the door on them. He walks over to me, puts his hands down on the desk and stares me straight in the eyes. He’s got a wide, toothy grin plastered across his face.

  “I swear to God I want to kiss you right now,” he says.

  “You know, for a guy who says he’s not gay, there’s a lot of subtext going on here.”

  Shane ignores my comment. He sits back down and takes a deep breath.

  I swear, I think he just came in his pants thinking about all the money he’s about to receive.

  “You know what the best part of all this is?” he says.

  I shake my head.

  He looks at me, his expression now serious. “You’re going to make me even more money with something I got planned. And by the end of the month, you’ll have your debt all paid up. You won’t owe me a single cent.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It feels like I’m getting let out of jail early.

  “What you talking about?”

  Shane leans back in his chair, relaxed, like a man who has it all figured out.

  “Your fight with that Irish dude. It made me a lot of money, Kade. Everybody’s talking about it. You’ve built up quite a reputation. People want to see you fight again. They remember when you broke your leg because you wouldn’t tap out. And now that you beat that Irish mick, well, word out on the street is that you’re the second coming.”

  I hold up my hands and shake my head. “I got lucky this time. I was in the zone. I can’t fight again without proper training time. I need more than a week’s notice.”

  Shane nods. “I hear ya. But what I’m saying is… I think I can build up the next fight. Make it a big purse.”

  “Okay,” I say with a shrug.

  Shane leans in. “I think most people will be betting on you to win. Odds will be in your favor.”

  I see the glimmer in his eyes. I’m suspicious, and then it hits me.

  “I ain’t never thrown a fight, Shane.”

  He leans back in his chair. “Well, there’s always a first time. Isn’t there?”

  I can’t stomach the thought of it. Losing on purpose goes against everything I believe in. The cage is my church. It’s sacrilege to throw a fight.

 
“Kade, you know what the difference between you and me is?”

  I look at Shane, sickened by his proposal.

  “You don’t see the big picture,” he says. “I bet against you on this next fight, and you throw it: Your debt with me is wiped clean. You’re a free man.”

  “I can’t do it, Shane.”

  No matter how much I want my freedom, there are certain lines I can’t cross.

  He gets up from his chair. “There ain’t no such thing as a moral victory, Kade. You should know that by now. There’s just money. It makes the world go round. Those who have it, get the opportunities. Those who don’t, end up somebody’s bitch.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t throw a fight.”

  Shane looks pissed. He’s used to getting his way. He takes a deep breath and sighs. After a moment of contemplation, he speaks.

  “How about this? You throw this fight, not only is your debt squared with me, but I’ll also let you get your gym back.”

  I look at him in disbelief. He knows how much this place means to me. I built it from scratch years ago. Now that Max is gone, the gym is the only thing I have left that I’m proud of. It kills me that I no longer own it.

  And now Shane is using it as leverage.

  He’s about to open the door and walk out but stops himself. He turns to me and says, “Don’t let your pride get in the way, Kade. Especially after everything you’ve been through. Throw the fight and the gym is yours.”

  Then he leaves.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  It’s 1 am. I can’t sleep. Two days ago, I had my final round of plastic surgery. Now I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror. The swelling has gone down. I’m meeting with a special make-up person later this week to learn how to properly blend the various skin tones on my face. No matter how good the make-up job, I’ll never resemble my old self. I have to accept I never will. The disfigured face staring back at me in the mirror belongs to me. It’s not going anywhere. It’s who I am now.

  After taking my mask off in front of Kade, I’m slowly accepting that reality.

  That being said, the thought of standing on stage and having people take pictures of me still fills me with dread. As I envision the experience, my body tenses. I take several deep breaths to prevent another panic attack.

  I look at my feet, expecting to see Mingus. I want to cuddle him in my arms, feel his comfort and unconditional love. He’s not there. I get up, leave my bedroom and search the house. I call his name; no response.

  “Mingus!”

  Still no response.

  Strange…

  Suddenly, I panic. My heart races. My hands go numb. Did he runaway? Did he sneak out of the house and get hit by a car?

  I search every room and thankfully find him cuddled into a ball behind a couch.

  “There you are,” I say with relief. But I notice something isn’t right. Mingus is quiet. His eyes are glassy. Then I notice the vomit on the floor.

  I nervously pick him up. His breathing is scant and his belly is swollen. What do I do? I run and grab my cellphone from the kitchen counter. I call Suzie. I need her to take Mingus to the vet. But the call goes straight to voicemail. Where the fuck is she? It’s 1 am! If she’s sleeping, wake-up! I call Randy, again voicemail. Nobody’s answering! I need someone to drive Mingus to the vet ASAP! He’s not well and he needs immediate attention. I consider calling Kade but then realize he lives too far away. I need to get Mingus help now!

  I hear the little dog wheeze. Shit, he really doesn’t look good.

  I don’t want him to die.

  I can’t let that happen.

  I have to drive him to the vet myself.

  I quickly search my phone for the nearest animal hospital. There’s a place fifteen minutes away. As I leave the house with Mingus, I catch my reflection in the hallway mirror. I’m not wearing my mask. I’m not ready to have anyone, other than Kade, see me without it. I quickly throw it on and leave.

  I haven’t driven a car since the accident. Jitters crawl up my spine. As I step inside my car, my heart is pounding. I’m having flashbacks to the night of the accident – that truck flying out of nowhere, the shattered glass. I try to shake the images away. I need to get Mingus help. I have to push through this fear. With my trembling hand, I insert the key into the ignition and start my car. I glance at the passenger seat. Mingus looks like he’s knocking on heaven’s door. “You’re going to be okay, buddy.”

  Mingus doesn’t whimper a reply. I only hear him wheeze.

  Filled with worry, I pull my car into the street. I begin following the directions from the GPS to the animal hospital.

  In my rearview mirror, I see a red Volkswagen bug following me. It’s Charlie. Fuck, not again. It’s just like the night of the accident. My trembling hands clutch the steering wheel. My breaths are short and quick. I don’t know if I can do this.

  Then I hear Mingus whimper in the passenger seat. This isn’t about me. It’s about him.

  I need to get Mingus help.

  I take a deep breath and continue following the GPS directions. As I drive, I keep glancing at Mingus. I place a hand on his nose; it’s hot and dry.

  “Just hold on buddy. We’ll get you fixed up, I promise.”

  The GPS directs me to make a left turn. When I glance in my rearview mirror, Charlie is still following me. I can’t waste any time by trying to lose him. I need to get Mingus help immediately.

  Luckily, there’s no traffic on the way to the animal hospital. Within fifteen minutes, I’m slamming my car door shut, and cradling Mingus in my arms. I rush through the clinic’s front door.

  I must look quite a sight, wearing my mask and pajamas, carrying my poor puppy in my arms. But I don’t care. I just want someone to tell me Mingus is going to be okay.

  The guy working the front desk says the vet can see Mingus immediately.

  Thank God.

  “He’s not himself. He vomited. His belly is bloated,” I nervously tell the vet as I carry him into the room.

  The vet, an older lady, looks at me and offers a comforting smile. “Let’s take a look. He’s in safe hands now. You can calm down, Miss?”

  “Swanson,” I reply. When she tells me to calm down, I realize how hysterical I’ve been. I can’t lose Mingus. I love the little guy.

  The vet ponders my last name, and her eyes light up. She’s put two and two together… my mask plus my last name. She realizes who I am. I’m grateful that she doesn’t say anything. The last thing I want to discuss right now is who I am and deal with questions about my accident. We need to focus on getting Mingus back to normal.

  After a thorough inspection, the vet informs me that Mingus has something lodged in his throat.

  “Really? How could I not have known?” I reply, angry with myself.

  “It happens. Puppies tend to chew on anything,” she explains. “Sometimes they snatch something up they shouldn’t have. We’re going to have to sedate him, but I think we’ll be able to remove it.”

  I watch, worried, as the vet and her assistant sedate Mingus. Then I’m shocked when the vet removes a chewed up tube sock from Mingus’s throat. “Here’s the culprit,” she says with a smile. “We were lucky you brought him in when you did. We didn’t have to perform surgery. We got it before it hit the gastrointestinal tract. He should be okay, now. Just give him some time to wake up.”

  “Thank god,” I cry. “Thank you so much. I can’t thank you enough.”

  The vet and her assistant smile and exchange glances. Once her assistant leaves the room, I notice the vet staring at me. I can sense what’s coming.

  “If it isn’t too much bother,” she says, “Would you mind if I took a selfie with you? My daughter is one of your biggest fans.”

  I touch my mask. I used to take selfies with strangers all the time. But now, the thought of my image circulating online sends chills down my spine. I shake my head. “I’m sorry. After the accident, I don’t take selfies anymore.”

  The vet no
ds, clearly disappointed. I feel bad, especially since she just saved Mingus’s life.

  “If you want, I can write your daughter a letter and sign it.”

  The vet perks up. “She would love that. Thank you so much.”

  “Not a problem.”

  The vet’s assistant enters the room. She looks at me with some hesitation. “Miss Swanson, I think you should know that there are a lot of reporters outside.”

  I was expecting Charlie to be waiting for me in the parking lot, but a lot of reporters? How did they get tipped off? Then I realize anyone working at the clinic might have sent a tweet. A tweet can go viral in seconds. What am I going to do? The thought of navigating through a crowd of reporters asking me questions, shoving their cameras in my face, sounds like a nightmare. Shit, I feel a panic attack coming on.

  “Excuse me,” I say to the vet and her assistant.

  I step into the hallway and take several deep breaths.

  I can’t face the reporters alone. I’m so frightened. I need help. I reach for my cell phone. Suzie and Randy are still not answering. I know he’s far away, but I need him. I quickly dial Kade’s number. I’m so grateful when he answers.

  “Hello.”

  “I need your help,” I blurt into the phone.

  He must sense the nervous tension in my voice because he quickly responds, “I’ll be right there.”

  I tell him I’m not home and that I’m at the animal clinic. I give him the address, and he says he’s on his way.

  When I hang up, I feel a sense of relief. I’m not alone. I have Kade. I walk back into the room and see Mingus slowly moving his legs.

  “When will he be okay to leave?” I ask the vet.

  She shrugs. “He should be fully awake and alert in thirty minutes.”

  “Great,” I reply. “I have another question. Is there a back entrance to this place? A way I can get out of here without going through the front and dealing with all those cameras?”

  “Sure,” says the vet.

 

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