Blame It on the Pain

by Ashley Jade

  I give Alyssa a kiss and hug Momma goodbye since she won't be attending the fight tonight.

  As soon as Tyrone and I walk out into the hallway his eyes are on me. “Either my music has really started rubbing off on you, or you're hiding something,” he says.

  “What's the matter?” I deflect. “You don't want to be the Puffy Daddy to my Biggie?”

  He snorts. “Uh-uh. Nice try. Something's off with you. And you know I'm not gonna quit until you tell me, so you might as well save me the trouble and spill it.”

  “I can't.”

  “Jackson,” he insists.

  We walk out the apartment complex doors. “Look, I just need you to do me a favor and never mention DeLuca's name in front of Alyssa.”

  “What? Why? I mean, it's not like we talk about him all that much anyway, but he is the reason our lives are the way they are right now.” He pauses. “Shit, she doesn't know you're involved with DeLuca...does she?”

  I shake my head and avert my gaze.

  “I thought you told her everything that night?”

  I rub the back of my neck. “I told her that I was a murderer, yes. But I never told her that I'm tied up with DeLuca or that he's the reason I'm free.”

  He looks at me incredulously. “She never asked why or how you're free?”

  Oh, she asked. Right before she fell asleep after making love that night. “I told her I got acquitted because of self-defense,” I say. “Trust me, Tyrone. I have my reasons. I wish I didn't have to lie. It's just the way it has to be right now.”

  He thinks about this for a moment. “Can I ask you a few more questions?”

  “You can ask, but I might not be able to answer them directly.”

  He rubs his chin. “First and foremost...does this have to do with her safety?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does it have anything to do with the FBI?”

  I'm about to ask how he knows that, but then he says, “The night you were drunk, you said something about her having an FBI sugar daddy. So, I assume he's got something to do with it?”

  I shake my head. “No. He doesn't. And he was never her sugar daddy, I was just being a drunk ass.”

  “Oh, I know. I was there, remember? Okay, I have one more question.”

  “Shoot.”

  He gives me a look and I know he's about to crack the case. “If you were working for any other mob boss...would you tell her the truth about everything then?”

  I give him a small nod.

  “Shit,” he says. “Alyssa's got one hell of a history, doesn't she?”

  “I can't tell you, Tyrone. I wish I could. But it's for her own safety that she doesn't find out about DeLuca.”

  “You don't have to tell me, Jackson. I read you loud and clear, brother. I'm just worried now. I have no clue what her story is—” He pauses and starts listing things on his fingers. “But just knowing that her daddy was murdered, it's got something to do with the feds, and DeLuca himself is involved. Not to mention, the fact that she can't know about us working for him—”

  “And he can't know about her,” I interject.

  “And the plot thickens,” he whispers.

  “You've got the most important pieces, Tyrone. I just can't be the one to put them together for you because it's not my place to.”

  He nods. “I understand.”

  “You still okay with her moving in?”

  He waves a hand. “Yeah. She loves you, Jackson. And I know you love her.” He closes his eyes. “Sometimes you do whatever you can for the woman you love.”

  We walk into the club and he looks around. His eyes zero in on the cage. “And to answer your question. I'd be Biggie.” He snorts. “Especially tonight.”

  “Tonight? Why?”

  He puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles. “See? Now if you really were a hip-hop fan and liked that song, you would get it.”

  I raise an eyebrow and he gives me a small laugh. “Don't give me that look, it's nothing. I was just making a crack about the album that song was featured on is all.”

  Then he pulls me in for a hug, which is rare for him to do here in the middle of the club. “You're my best friend, Jackson.”

  I hug him back and tell him the same, but an unsettling feeling washes over me. I'm about to question him about why he's acting so weird, but Ricardo shows up and they decide to do some last minute training.

  Because apparently....they just got word that Tyrone's opponent for tonight got switched.

  That only makes this feeling in the pit of my stomach worse.

  One things for sure...I'm finding out the name of that album.

  ***

  A little over two hours later, I'm standing in the middle of the crowd ready to punch someone.

  Tyrone denied me access to the fucking dressing room. I spoke to Ricardo about it but he said that I know the rules before a fight, and since I'm not fighting tonight I have to respect them.

  Then I told him that I thought something was wrong. I told him what Tyrone said earlier and I told him what the name of the album was- 'Ready to Die.'

  What the fuck is going on?

  Ricardo looked spooked and tried calling DeLuca on his phone to figure out what the hell was going on with this new schedule change, but of course, he didn't answer.

  Then he went in and tried talking to Tyrone, but he said he shut down and won't talk to anyone. He's in his own little world right now preparing for the fight.

  When I see him walk out and into the cage, I know it's true.

  He's not Tyrone right now. He's his own version of the Hulk.

  But when I look at him and his eyes connect with mine. He gives me the look. “I got this,” he mouths.

  I nod my head and pat the space above my heart. To most people, we probably look like two sappy lovers. But fuck those people, I wouldn't have gotten through these past few years without him.

  He's been the only good thing about making a deal with the Devil.

  I look at Ricardo and he gives me the thumbs up sign. “Everything's okay,” he mouths.

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Until I see his opponent walk out.

  It's the same guy I fought last week.

  Tyrone and I have a similar build for the most part. He's 6'2 to my 6'3, but unlike my 235lbs, he fluctuates between 230-245lbs, depending on when and how long Momma comes to visit.

  I smile because I know he's on the upside of the scale due to Momma being at our apartment this entire week. Then I frown because I know that the extra weight won't make that much of a difference against a guy who weighs 388lbs and is 5 inches taller than him.

  But I can't let myself think like that. Tyrone's one tough competitor. We both hold the title of being the best fighter in the club. Which is also why we train together.

  He's never even lost a match. He'll, if I'm being honest, he's taken fewer hits than me now. He's only been hit twice, two separate matches.

  His secret?

  When he gets close to reaching his limit...he becomes fucking psychotic.

  I'm not kidding, either. He turns into a full on psychiatric patient. To the point where he begins actually scaring his opponents. It's why his fans call him 'Hulk'. The guy just loses it up there.

  In fact, I'd be willing to bet that Tyrone's fights bring in more money than mine do. He's way more entertaining to watch than me. If he's not scaring the audience to death with his antics, then he's making them laugh by taunting his opponent.

  They announce Tyrone and the crowd goes wild and I join them. “Break bad on em', Hulk,” I call out.

  He hears me say this and blows me a kiss. Ricardo shakes his head and laughs and the crowd goes even crazier. The first time he did it, I wanted to pummel him, but he thought it was hysterical; and so did the crowd, so he kept doing it.

  Then they introduce his shithead opponent. For whatever reason, his eyes lock with mine. I hardly ever do this, since it's not my fight...but this time, I issue my own stare down, letting
him know that on a personal level if he plays dirty with Tyrone...he'll be dealing with me.

  Instead of heeding my warning like I hoped he would. His lifts his pointer finger and traces it across his neck horizontally. Then he gives me a wink.

  My stomach coils. Something's not right.

  I look at Ricardo, but he's too busy whispering words of encouragement in Tyrone's ear to look at me.

  When Lou-Lou walks out on stage, I try getting her attention, but she just gives me a weird look and shrugs before wishing Tyrone luck.

  Fuck it. I'm walking up there myself. Maybe I can get Tyrone's attention that way. Since I'm standing in the middle of the large crowd, I begin shoving people out of the way.

  The match begins but I'm still a good few rows back. That's when I start screaming my head off and pushing people out of the way. When they notice that it's me and see how angry I am, they start moving with no hesitation.

  I've never acted like this before unless I'm in the cage so they know something's up.

  I'm screaming Tyrone's name like a lunatic but I don't care. I look back up at the cage and what I see brings me to my knees.

  Everything happens in slow motion.

  The beast is sliding a knife down the middle of Tyrone's back. This was supposed to be a fucking fight, not a goddamned stabbing. Ricardo's going off like a motherfucker on the sidelines trying to get to him, but the beast's team of people start throwing punches and kicks, attacking him.

  I start scaling the cage, not giving a fuck about anyone or anything, only Tyrone.

  I hop on the beast's back and shove my fingers in his eyeballs so hard there's blood dripping down my fingers. He pulls the knife out of Tyrone, grunts and throws me off his back with enough force that I slam into the cage, but I don't care.

  I get up, run right back up to him and headbutt him as hard as I can.

  He looks woozy and backs up, but at the last second, he starts charging me with the same knife that he stabbed Tyrone with.

  That's when Ricardo hops on his back and I hear a cracking sound.

  The guy falls limp and I know what's been done...and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy about it.

  But I have more important things to worry about.

  I rush over to Tyrone. He's shaking, and his blood is pooling all around him. I take off my sweatshirt and tie it around his wound tight. He finally looks at me, but when he does, his eyes are glazed over, and I know he's out of it.

  I scream his name and tell him to hold on. “I can't lose you, Tyrone,” I scream. Hell, I'm probably sobbing, who knows.

  I hear Ricardo on the phone calling for the mob doctor to get to the cage.

  “Love you, J-man,” he whispers.

  “I love you, too,” I say. “You're gonna be fine. The Doctor's on his way.”

  “Tell Momma I love her and Shelby...tell Shelby I love her,” he says. “I did this for her,” he whispers.

  “What the fuck do you mean?”

  He begins nodding off but looks at me. “I made a deal with DeLuca. I asked to be out of the club. I wanted to end my contract.” He gulps in a mouthful of air. “I wanted to start my life with Shelby. She didn't know I was doing this, though.”

  “And what did he say, Tyrone?” I scream, already fearing the answer.

  “He told me I had to fight one last opponent...and then I was out.”

  I shake my head. “No. You had to know it wouldn't be that easy.”

  He begins nodding off again, but I force him to stay with me. “I know, Jackson. But he promised. His only stipulation was that I had to go a full 10 rounds with the guy you fought last week.”

  His eyes close but he keeps talking. “I knew it would be a tough fight. I mean,10 rounds with that beast? You only went 3 with him. But DeLuca told me to drag it out to 10 rounds and take my hits and my punishment like a man. But, I never thought it would end up like this. I should have, though, Huh? I mean, it's fucking DeLuca. Still, I didn't anticipate being stabbed.”

  DeLuca was setting Tyrone up to be killed. There's no way he could have lasted 10 rounds with that guy without defending himself. I barely survived 3 and I did fight back. If Alyssa hadn't screamed, I never would have made it past that.

  Weird thing is? That beast looked at me right before Tyrone’s fight, like it was some kind of personal message.

  Tyrone starts shaking again and I have to hold him down in order to make sure there's pressure on his wound. His eyes flutter and the feeling of dread washes over me. I lower my lips to his ear and whisper, “You're my brother and I love you. You better make it through this because I need you. Don't you fucking bail on me, Tyrone.”

  The Doctor finally shows up, declares he needs to go to a hospital right away and they take him out on a stretcher.

  I sit there in shock, my eyes are still wet and Tyrone's blood surrounds me. It feels like my heart just got crushed into dust.

  But then venomous rage fills my blood.

  And I know exactly who it's for.

  The Devil himself.

  Fuck sitting down to try and talk to him. Fuck laying it all out on the table for him. Fuck offering him an ounce of my loyalty in exchange for Alyssa's safety after he pulled this shit.

  There's another way to ensure that she's safe.

  There's another way to get payback for those I love.

  This bastard has now hurt two people that I would do anything for.

  Fuck this club, fuck his contract, and fuck him.

  I stare into the camera and narrow my eyes. “I'm coming for you, DeLuca,” I sneer, low enough so that only I can hear.

  I see the camera move and I know he's watching me.

  Good.

  Chapter 34 (Alyssa)

  Last call ended 20 minutes ago.

  Jackson, Tyrone, and Ricardo never showed up after the fight.

  I've tried calling Jackson's cell multiple times but he still hasn't picked up or responded to any of my text messages.

  I would call Momma, but she doesn't believe in cell phones.

  It's obvious that something is very wrong. Which is why I locked up the bar and I'm currently standing in front of Jackson's apartment door, pounding on it as hard as I can.

  I thought for sure that Momma would be here, but seeing as I'm still not getting a response, that only makes this bad feeling I have worse.

  With no options left, I have no choice but to walk down the hall to Lou-Lou's front door.

  She answers on the second knock. Her eyes are red and puffy, it's obvious that she's been crying and she's upset about something.

  “Look, I'm sorry I'm interrupting whatever it is that you're going through right now, but I can't get a hold of Jackson, and no one is at the apartment—”

  “You don't know what happened, do you?” she says, her voice raspy with emotion.

  I swallow hard against the lump in my throat and tell myself to breathe before I shake my head.

  “There was an accident at the club tonight. Tyrone got stabbed by his opponent when the match started.”

  My hand flies over my mouth and a sob escapes.

  “Everyone's at the hospital because he's having emergency surgery. That's probably why you can't get a hold of anyone.”

  “Thank you.”

  I start running down the hall, but to my surprise, I hear Lou-Lou's footsteps behind me.

  “It's after 2am, Alyssa. You'll never catch a cab because they're too busy picking up drunk idiots and it will take you an hour to get there on foot. Also, it's not exactly safe to go walking in the city by yourself this time of night. If you want, I can drive you,” she offers.

  I nod my head, too shaken up to form actual words. My heart is breaking for Jackson....and Momma. Oh, god, poor Momma.

  I pray as hard as I can for Tyrone the entire ride to the hospital.

  I give Lou-Lou a questioning look when she pulls up to the front of the hospital but makes no move to get out. “You're not coming in?”

  She looks down
. “I want to, but I don't think anyone really wants to see me.”

  “Look, don't take this the wrong way, but it's not about you right now. Tyrone needs all the positive thoughts he can get. Plus, I think Ricardo would appreciate you showing up and offering your support.”

  She gives me an odd look and I can tell she's ready to argue, but instead she gets out with me and hands her keys to a valet attendant. “Do you think they'll give us any information? We're not immediate family and we didn't come in with him. And you already said that Jackson wasn't picking up his phone.”

  Crap, I didn't really think about that.

  I scan the emergency room. The look on both the security guard's face and the nurse at the desk, tells me they're both going to be hard nuts to crack.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see my doppelganger's blonde ponytail and pink scrubs.

  “Penelope,” I call out, while taking Lou-Lou's hand and rushing over to her.

  I quickly explain the situation. She looks sympathetic, and before I know it, she's leading us past the front desk and walking us toward a special section of the intensive care waiting room.

  She tells us that Tyrone's still in surgery but she'll keep us updated if she finds out any information. I quickly thank her before Lou-Lou and I round the corner to the small waiting room.

  That's where I see Jackson and Ricardo in some kind of standoff, looking like they're about to rip each others faces off.

  “You've gotta be kidding me,” Lou-Lou mutters. “Stop it!” she screams.

  It's no use. In the blink of an eye, Jackson advances toward Ricardo and holds him up against the wall by his throat. “You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?” he sneers.

  “You're out of your mind, Jackson. For fucks sake, I snapped that guy's neck. You think I would ever let anything happen to either one of you?”

  Jackson shakes his head. “You knew about them switching his opponent before the fight. You had to know something was up. You told me everything was okay right before the fight. But, it wasn't fucking okay. You knew about the meeting because he had to go through you to get one! You knew he wanted out and you never fucking told me. And now, my best friend is in surgery fighting for his life.”

  Jackson slams him up hard against the wall again, but I see Ricardo's eyes flash and that strange feeling washes over me. The very same one I had that night Jackson fought Dean in the bathroom and Ricardo showed up.