Sucker for Payne
Page 14
“Cool,” Conner replied.
“Is he at all the fights?” I asked, still unsure of how the pro league worked.
“Pretty much. And his son is usually around. I can’t stand that little pecker-head.” Steele grimaced.
“Why?” I asked.
“For one, he’s an asshole. And two,” Steele held up two fingers, “he’s a silver-spooned pussy.”
“That’s harsh.” Lena chuckled. “Not a thing in the world wrong with a silver spoon, but what makes him such a pussy?” she asked, after she thanked the waitress for her wine.
“That kid has never fought a day in his life, yet he has opinions on how to win them.” Steele shook his head. “He’s condescending. No one likes him. Richard only tolerates him because of his wife.”
“How old is he?” I asked.
“Not sure.” He lifted a shoulder. “Twenty-five, maybe?”
“His sister, Navie, doesn’t seem like that,” I added. “Not that I know her or anything, but after I saw that horrible video, I googled her. There were a few interviews she did with her family, and I also saw she went to Yale.”
“I’ve never met her. Not formally anyway. She’s hot as hell though,” Steele said.
“Right…because that’s important.” Lena laughed.
“Hotness is always important. If you ain’t pretty, we can’t hang.” Steele winked.
Lena rolled her eyes. “I was just about to ask how you weren’t married yet, but never mind.” Steele tensed a little, and released a nervous chuckle.
I studied him, but he continued eating his dinner, leaving me to wonder if his initial reaction to Lena’s response actually meant anything.
***
Climbing into bed, I snuggled up to Conner’s back. His smell was intoxicating. It was like a flood of endorphins released in my body every time I got close enough to truly feel him. We lay in silence, knowing the world was continuing along at its normal pace on the bustling New York City streets; but in our bubble, there was peace…until I spoke my thoughts aloud.
“What was prison like?” The question was muffled, as my lips were pressed firmly into his back.
For a split second, I regretted bringing it up. The night before his big fight was probably not the best time to dig up old, painful memories.
The muscles in his back tensed, making me clench him tighter. My cheek rubbed the same spot trying to help him relax. It killed me on the inside that I needed to know. I never wanted him to remember a time in his life that wasn’t happy, but for our sake…I needed to know what he went through.
“You wouldn’t like it.” His voice was thick, but his tone was light.
I opened my mouth, scraping his skin with my teeth. Relief flowed out of my body like a wave at his joke.
He turned toward me, pulling my body into his. I snuggled close, waiting for him to continue. “It was crowded.” His brow furrowed. “Mostly, it was just routine, like the same thing every single day.”
“Is it anything like the movies portray?” I asked, after I saw he was okay discussing it. “Did you have to watch your back constantly?”
“Yeah, baby.” He hugged me close, taking comfort from my body. I thought he’d drifted off; he was so still. But after a few moments, he rubbed my hair softly, and kissed the top of my head. “I mostly stayed to myself. There’s a lot of drama there. At first, I counted the days, but eventually, I just did what I could to stay busy.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Sometimes, when I think about it, it makes me want to cry.”
“Don’t.” He lifted my chin so that I could see his eyes. “I mean it. Don’t cry for me. We’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
“Okay.” I smiled at his positivity. “Hate you.”
“I hate you too. Now go to sleep. I’ve got some ass to kick tomorrow, so we can get back home and back to normal. I hate this fucking city.”
I chuckled and kissed his lips. “Good night, hater.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Conner
“You got this, man,” Steele said in my ear. “Stay focused, and as soon as you get your shot, take his ass to the ground.”
“Got it.” I put my mouthpiece in and entered the cage.
My gaze remained trained on my opponent, even though mentally, I was struggling to focus. I could see the poster boards, and hands waving from all directions. I didn’t like it. It made me uneasy with all their eyes on me. Chaos ensued in my gut, swirling around and around, until a pang of nausea hit me. I swallowed back the bile, and popped up on the balls of my feet to stretch my calves.
Scott Miller stood in his corner, eyeing me. I gave him one nod, and that was it. It was all he was getting; it was all the crowd was getting. I came here to do a job. I took a deep breath as I took the center of the cage. It was go time.
“Get him low!” Steele called from my corner.
I will if I can.
The son-of-a-bitch was tougher than he looked. He was wiry, and hard as fuck to pin down. I tried two takedowns, and he got out of both of them. Before I could recover my footing, I took a blow to the ribs. Air gushed out of my lungs, making me squint in pain. Endorphins released, and my muscles relaxed after contracting from the blows. Nothing compared to the rush, except maybe alcohol, but that wasn’t an option anymore. Not since I had Willow.
Just like every other time I was in the cage, I smiled. Something came alive in me the moment I realized I was going to have to work harder for the win. Adrenaline shot through my veins with every punch he threw. I took three more before I began throwing my own.
I pushed him back, ready to tear into him, when they called the round. I strolled back to the corner, even though I was so amped up, I wanted to sprint.
“Don’t let him get too many in. You’ll use all your energy defending,” Steele coached from the corner.
“Got it.” I wasn’t going to let him hit me again. The fight had already gone one round too many for my taste.
Taking my stance in the center of the cage, I looked over at Willow, which was a mistake. Her eyes were gleaming, and I knew from her appearance, she was concerned. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, and she continued to glance around the arena, taking in the overzealous crowd. I didn’t like seeing her like that, especially when there was nothing to be concerned about.
A pang of guilt set low in my belly. It had actually been a fun five minutes for me, and she’d been tense the entire time, biting her lip to the point she was probably ripping skin.
Round two began, and I threw two punches to his gut, followed by an Axe kick. His step faltered and that was all the opening I needed. Pouncing on him like he was my prey, I folded him into the position I needed him in, so that I could apply an arm bar. Three squeezes, then a tap. I released my hold, rolled to my feet, and walked back to my corner.
“Payne! Payne! Payne!” Kids were screaming. Dudes were high-fiving. Women were jumping up and down in their barely-there tops. Steele was grinning from ear to ear, and all I could think about was getting my girl and making sure she was okay.
The ref took forever to check on Miller. I walked to the center, annoyed that I had to wait for them to announce the winner. What I hadn’t factored in was the announcer making a spectacle of it. This was no longer the little cage I’d been fighting in. No, this was the pro circuit, and they were damn sure going to live it up for the paying fans.
“One down . . .” Steele slapped a hand on my shoulder when I made it to the side of the cage.
“One to go,” I finished, and immediately began searching for Willow in the crowd. Steele and the other members of my crew were trying to push me down the tunnel to the locker room, but I needed to set eyes on her first.
I sidestepped well-wishers, and grown men whooping and hollering as I passed, frantic to find her. I turned a trashcan over, dumping out the contents in the process, and stood on it, thinking if I could just get higher, I’d be able to spot her. It took everything I had in me
not to get on the PA system to demand people to shut the fuck up. They continued to congratulate me over and over, not even bothering to notice I was in the middle of a mini mental breakdown.
I got separated from Steele while searching for Willow. That’s when I realized she may have already made her way to the tunnel. I started that way, ignoring the congratulatory slaps on my back.
“Willow back here?” I asked, walking through the doorway.
“Haven’t seen her. Is she supposed to be?” Steele’s eyes grew darker once he took in my worried expression. “Did she say she’d meet you here?”
“No.” I’m stupid and didn’t lay down concrete plans, not expecting the crowd to rush the cage after my win.
“Okay, man. She’s probably just waiting out the crowd. It was packed out there.”
“No, she isn’t. I know she isn’t.” Dread filled my gut. I knew something was wrong.
Sweat filled my pores. I felt sick. I hurried to pack my bag, and changed my clothes. I’d kill someone if she was injured. I swore I’d never go back on the inside, but I never had anything worth risking it for. Now, I did.
“Call her. Maybe she got overwhelmed.” He handed me his phone.
I got her voicemail. “She’s not answering.” I closed my eyes. “There’s no way in hell she would have just left.” I pushed the phone back at him, and ran my still-wrapped hands through my hair.
“Don’t—”
I stepped up to him nose to nose. “Don’t tell me not to worry.” I was holding my shit together by a thread. My chest rose and fell in what falsely conveyed as calm breaths. I wasn’t calm. I was freaking the fuck out on the inside, and aside from knowing that I had to find her, I couldn’t form a coherent thought about anything else.
That’s when Lena came walking in. She looked around, confused. “Where’s Willow? She isn’t here?”
My fears were becoming realized. “Wasn’t she with you?”
“No, we got separated, and—”
I threw my bag on the ground, grabbed my phone, and ran toward the exit.
“Conner!” Steele tried to grab my arm, but I pulled away from him and blew past Lena. “I’ll stay here and look, man. We’ll find her!” I continued further away from him, and he kept calling for me. “Let’s make a plan. Conner!”
I didn’t respond, my mind already searching out possibilities of where she could be. I went out behind the building and searched every crevice. Then I walked through four different alleyways, trying to think of the darkest spots imaginable. I stepped over two homeless people and a small dog, searching behind a dumpster. For a split second, my mind went back to Vegas, when I’d taken the whiskey from the poor old man on the street. I bent over, my head all but dangling, feeling like I would puke. I spit and stood to my full height.
Glancing around, I felt out of control. I was in an alley, looking for my girlfriend—who I wasn’t sure had just taken an alternate route to the tunnel and was waiting on me in the locker room.
My fears from my past were taking over. I’d overreacted, scared out of my mind that maybe Mikey had shown up after hearing about my fight, and done something horrific to her because of me. His popping up in my life after two years had me convinced he had something up his sleeve. Steele probably thought I was nuts. I should have told him who Mikey was the night we had our run in. If, for no other reason, he could have helped me keep an eye on him.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. “Yeah?” I answered Steele’s call, praying he had Willow with him.
“She’s okay.”
“Where is she?” Heat scorched my neck, and fire ignited in my chest; the flames were reaching for the sky.
“She’s just shaken up—”
“Where the fuck is she, Steele?”
I couldn’t make out the muffled voices in the background. “We’re in the locker room.”
I hung up before he could give me any more information. I ran five blocks without stopping. I hadn’t prayed—really prayed—in years, yet in that moment, before I opened the large metal door, I prayed that Willow had no physical injuries. But I knew something was wrong. Steele had confirmed as much. I just didn’t know if I was strong enough to deal with it all if someone had touched her.
The tension in the room was thick. Steele sat facing Willow, who was seated in the corner chair, her legs tucked underneath her, making her seem like a small child. She looked fragile and tired. Lena was seated next to Steele, clearly shaken up.
Willow glanced up when I knelt next to her.
I took her in my arms, thankful she was with me. “What happened?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Willow
I’d never forget the fear in Conner’s eyes, willing me to tell him I was all right. I glanced over at Steele, who stood with his thick arms crossed, pity etched deep in his expression. Lena stood next to him, both her arms folded around her middle, her demeanor rigid but relieved.
“I needed to use the restroom halfway through the fight, but held off because I didn’t want to miss any of it. After you won, I went, knowing I’d have enough time before meeting you here.” I shivered at the memory.
Conner stroked my hair, urging me to go on.
“I didn’t think to check the toilet paper roll before I locked myself in the stall. There were other women in there, so I didn’t think anything about asking the person next to me to hand me a couple of squares under the stall.” I swallowed thickly, trembling at the memory.
“But when the person next to me handed me the toilet paper, I could clearly see that it was a man’s hand. I took it from him, finally pausing to listen for other voices. I didn’t hear any, and for the first time since I’d entered the bathroom, I realized I was alone with a strange man.”
“Fuck!” Conner swore. Agony filled his face, and Steele moved toward us.
“I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me. But Navie . . .” I winced, knowing she was hurt. “I didn’t get the chance to make sure she was okay, because Lena and Steele burst through the door just as she was going hands-on with him.”
“Who? Who’s he?” I asked.
“It was the same guy who cornered you in Vegas,” Steele spoke up.
Conner put his forehead on my hand that was clutching the arm of the chair. Confusion set in as I realized what Steele had said.
“What guy?” I asked Conner.
“We need a minute,” Conner said to Steele and Lena.
“Man, we still have to give a statement to the police. They’re with Navie now, in the next room.” Steele didn’t budge.
“We need a minute,” Conner repeated, but this time he pinned Steele with a look so dark, a whole new concern grew in my gut.
“We’ll be outside.” Steele wrapped an arm around Lena, and they both walked out, leaving us alone.
Conner stood beside me, the silence stretching out so far, I wondered if he was ever going to explain. Then he growled and hung his head. “His name is Mikey Godwin. We served time in the same prison. We never got along. He found me in Vegas, the night—”
“The night of Steele’s fight?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Did he touch you?”
“He—scared me,” I admitted.
“Did he touch you?” The darkness in Conner’s eyes scared me.
“No. Navie walked in and…Conner, she got hurt.” I wiped a tear from my eye and sniffed. Lord, I felt so bad. That girl had saved me, and got hurt in the process.
“What happened?” He walked back over and knelt in front of me. “Tell me, baby. Tell me everything.”
“After I took the toilet paper, I pulled my pants up and tried to think of what to do next. I grabbed my phone out of my purse and sent a text to Lena, telling her where I was. I hadn’t thought to do that before. I should have just made it back to you first.”
He grabbed my face. “Don’t you dare do that. Don’t blame yourself for this.”
I shook off the inner turmoil and continued. “I stayed in the stall, waiting, but he ri
pped it open. He broke the lock.”
Tears pooled in Conner’s eyes. I took a deep breath and finished telling him the chain of events. “He told me that payback was a bitch, and that you were going to feel the pain of losing the one thing you loved.”
“Baby.” Conner let out a sob and pulled me into his arms. I held on just as tight, both of us breathing the best we could through our tears. I was still shaking when I pulled back.
“Navie walked in when he had me backed up into the corner. She questioned him, and I yelled for help. The next thing I knew, she was wailing on him. He grabbed her by the hair and threw her down. Her back landed against the sink. She lunged back at him, punching, kicking, anything she could do. She looked like you would look fighting him. I tried to help her, but I wasn’t much help. He hit her twice. Conner, she was bleeding.”
Conner stood abruptly. Pacing back and forth, his hands kept flexing into clenched fists. He looked ready to tear the roof off the place.
I called his name twice, but he didn’t answer me. I stood and walked over to him. “Conner?” I pulled his face down to mine so that we were eye level.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“No. You can’t.”
“The fuck you say? I’m going to murder him.”
“Listen to me. The police have him. They caught him. They are talking with Navie now, and—”
Before I could finish, two detectives walked in, followed by Steele and Lena.
One recorded my statement, while the other took notes. I told them everything I knew, including what Conner had just revealed about knowing the guy from prison. Conner paced the length of the locker room during the entire retelling of my story.
Lena sat shocked on the arm of the chair I was sitting in. Every time I mentioned Conner, or his past, she tensed up. I hated that my best friend was learning everything all at once. I would have felt guilty, had I not been so shaken up.
Steele stood quietly in the corner, listening to me, but kept his focus solely on Conner; making sure he was okay, I imagined.