by Jones, P. A.
“Nikki.” The voice of Gerome rescued me from the sin I was going to commit. I was going to kiss Tristan and that was a sin I’d never dreamed of doing again.
I stood up and turned around without looking at Tristan. He was my past and he should remain that way.
“Hey, what took you so long?” Gerome asked as soon I walked out of the club. “And why are your clothes so dirty.”
A strong hint of a cigarette came out of his mouth.“Did you smoke?”
“No, are you kiddin?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Don’t try to fool me, Gerome. Tell me you smoked.”
“A single one.” He turned his head away. He knew I hated smoking and I’d never liked it.
“Doesn’t matter if you took a single one or couple of hundred. I’d made this clear that I don’t like smoking and you have to give up.” My face heated.
“Why do you even care? You still love that jerk. Sucker.” He grabbed my arm.
“Don’t touch me. I’m here with you because I’m trying. Did you dream that I would fall into your arms when you came back after two frickin’ years.”
He kept silent.
“And you, jerk, I thought you were dead. What was I supposed to do? Mourn for you until my last breath? I can’t do that, Gerome. Still I’m trying hard to get over all that and be good to you.” I moved a few steps back. My eyes were burning. “At least try to act like a sensitive person.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. But trust me, he is not worthy of all this.”
“I know, but we are bound to him. You see the condition of our fighters; only Rick could win two matches. I wonder why Dad was keeping these jokers around.”
My cell flashed. It was Mr. Shaun.
“Not now.” I wasn’t expecting a call from that bastard. He was the worst man I’d ever met in my life.
“Why is he calling you now?”
“I don’t know, Gerome. Now if you let me talk to him…” I shrugged my shoulders in the air.
Gerome walked away.
“Hello.”
“It’s not going good, Nikki.” His deep, authoritative voice sounded from the other side. “You are not doing good.”
“What do you want, Mr. Shaun?” I sputtered in fury.
His poisonous laugh came straight at me. “The company is draining, dead. You better do something in two weeks or else I need to make some decisions.”
“But…”
He cut off the phone. The phone automatically slid through my hands.
I can’t let this happen. I ran inside the club. I was looking for Tristan. He was training on a back rower. I grabbed his arm and pulled him up.
“What the fuck?” he yelled as he turned back to face me. “Nikki, you?” His voice lowered automatically. ”Why are you crying? What happened?”
“I’m begging you, Tristan, please win this event. For me, for Stephen.”
“But, can you tell me what happened?” he said.
“I don’t know. Please promise me that you will win this tournament at any cost.” I pleaded with him; he was the only choice left to me.
“Okay, Nikki, calm down.”
“Do you promise me, Tristan Scott? For any moment that was true between us. At least for a single moment of truth we shared. Can you promise me for that?”
His dark, black eyes turned fluid first and then became focused more than anything else. “I promise you, Nikki Jordan, that I’ll win this trophy for you. I don’t know the reason, but I’ll do this for you.” He squeezed my hands in his palms.
“Thanks a lot.” I fell on his chest. He grabbed me in his arms.
“Nikki?” Gerome’s sound came and he pulled me away. “What were you doing in his arms?” he whispered, taking me away from him.
“Begging him to win.”
“Why did you have to fall in his arms for that? You could have ordered him over the phone as well. Keep a distance from him, Nikki,” he said.
I kept silent. The only thing that mattered to me now was the tournament win.
Chapter 11
Nikki
I walked into the coffee shop alone. I was acting against my own intuition. For the last two days, my mind had been stuck on that moment. The moment when Tristan was about to kiss me. It was like I’d lived my whole life for that one single kiss and I missed that opportunity at the end. What is this feeling? It seems to be on the surface, but I know there is a large piece of it under the water. Why am I so stuck on him, even after seven months? That didn’t happen with Gerome. When he was gone, I accepted him dead and started working on my own things. He never affected me like Tristan, not anytime. Maybe that was because I’d had Stephen in my belly.
“Whatever.” I wanted some quiet time and I knew where I would get that. Cafe Coffee House, my favorite. Gerome and I used to come here when we were dating. I Even used to come alone and tell stories to Stephen when he was in my belly.
I smiled unintentionally; there were lots of memories associated with this place. This place gave me strength when I needed it most. Even in the post-rehabilitation time, when I was fighting with the drug addiction, I used to come here alone, drinking coffee and thinking about my own life. If it was the coffee or the place, what was the reason? I bet I would never get to know it.
I checked in, and my usual box was filled.
“Any chance I can get that?” I asked the waitress there.
“No, ma’am. That man has been coming here for past month and he takes that place every time. He even waits for a couple of hours if the place is filled.”
“Is he alone? Why doesn’t he take some other place?” I was curious.
“He looks like a poor soul. When I asked him the same question, he said he’d left his memories here one day and he is trying to get them back.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hmm, interesting. I came for the same reason.” I sighed. “Anyway, I will take any nearby booth. Please send me one hazelnut coffee.”
“Sure, ma’am, you take booth 'B' in fourth row, and I would be there before you notice.” She smiled.
“Thanks.”
Booth 'B' in fourth row was very near to my favorite booth, booth A in third row. I could go and check on the person sitting there. Maybe he had left for the day and I could get that booth. “Yes, I’ll do that.” I changed my route and picked the desired one.
The booth 'A' was next to me and I wanted to peek who the poor soul was. I dropped my bag down and bent to pick that up. While standing back, I peeked into the booth. A pair of dark black eyes traced my path. It can’t be. He can’t be here.
The booth curtain opened. It was Tristan. “Nikki, you? What are you doing here?”
“Hmm...nothing. Came for a cup of coffee.”
“Why don’t you join me? This is your favorite booth, isn’t it?” He asked.
“Yes.” What should I do? So he was the poor soul the girl was talking about.
“Then come and join me for a cup of coffee, if I’m not disturbing your plans with your husband.” A shade of helplessness passed through his eyes. But then his eyes settled back to their normal color.
“It’s okay, Tristan. I’ll pick another one.” Talking to him was sounding like a bad idea.
“Ma’am, are you going to take your coffee in this booth?” The waitress I’d met on the reception was standing with a tray. I could smell hazelnuts from the coffee cup.
“Yes.” I changed my mind, though I was uncertain if the decision was correct or wrong.
Tristan went back to his seat. I looked inside; there were four coffee cups on the table.
“Can you please clean this up for me and bring me a fresh coffee?” he asked the waitress who placed my coffee on the table.
The booth was now filled with the aroma of my coffee. Like it used to fill it when I came here alone.
“Same style? Extra caffeine and black?” she asked.
“Yes, please.” He closed the curtain as the waitress grabbed the empty cups and left.
“So…” He
paused, looking at me. “How are you? I guess I didn’t ask you that before.”
“You never asked me this question formally. I remember how rude you were back then.” I giggled. I remembered our first meeting. He declined to help me save that cute guy getting pummeled in my dad’s club. How much that event affected my life?
“Maybe.” He tried to smile.“You look the same, beautiful with cheerful eyes.”
Only the cheer in these eyes is gone.“Why this much coffee? And the waitress told me you’ve been coming here for the last month. Why? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Did I ever mind you asking me anything, after I…” He stopped again. He didn’t complete his sentence.
“What happened to your injury, Tristan? I know it was serious. I worked on that.”
“Do you need to hear everything now?”
“If you don’t mind. I’m curious, because I’m a therapist.” I wasn’t, actually. “At least half therapist.”
“An accident happened and it was cured.”
“Don’t lie to me, Tristan. I know you better than that.” He was lying to me. That was new, why he didn’t want to tell me. Was it related to me?
He thought for a moment. “A bouncer in the club beat me bad. But he did me a favor. My muscle tear was cured in that beating.”
“A bouncer? You could beat Chase easily, even in your injured state.”
“I was drunk, Nikki. After that, I could never drink again,” He said in a strained voice. That moment must have been painful for him.
“Well, it worked for the better. Isn’t it better, Tristan?”
“We can say that.”
The waitress came with the coffee. “Here is your dark coffee with extra caffeine, sir. Let me know if you want something else.”
“Thanks, Sissy. I’ll call you if I need anything.” He smiled at her.
“You seem to know her well,” I said, as soon as the waitress went back.
“When you come to a place daily for a month, then you know all these people. I even know the janitor’s name.” A thin smile covered his face.
“But why?” I asked. Why had he been coming here for a complete month.
“When you can’t drink whiskey, you have to come here to get some caffeine in your system,” he said calmly.
“What happened? Why not whiskey? Your life has changed a lot, Tristan. I bet I was the reason somewhere. Or maybe Trisha, wasn’t it?”
“You should have known by now how close we are.” He looked straight in my eyes.
“I knew it from the day Gerome came back. I saw you in your bedroom the day after I came to meet you.” I told him straight, though half of it was a lie. But why should I care for him, anyway? But at the same time, I wanted to ask him about the date he’d planned for us. What had he really planned for us that night? I might not ever know that.
“Where? Bedroom?” His pupils widened. “Yes, so you saw us there.” He chuckled. “It’s good that you are aware of that. It gives our story the closure it required.”
A closure? I never thought about any closure. The harder I ,the closer he got to my heart. Inside, I still loved him for what he was with me. I cherished those moments and I hungered for them. But he was ready to close the whole story.
“It wasn’t a story, Tristan.”I shot at him sharply. It wasn’t a story for me. It was real; my heart bled for real. I cared for him, really. I loved him for real.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you. But I just mean, we couldn’t complete it. Anyways, that worked out for the better. Look, you and Gerome are closer than you’ve ever been. Aren’t I right?” he asked.
I thought I saw pain in his eyes again, but it vanished in a blink. “Yes, it did.” I sipped my coffee. But it tasted different. Maybe the barista had changed. Not a single thing turned out good that day.
“Did I tell you, the waitress is changed? And you might want to try something different than the hazelnut coffee.”
“Oh, that explains the bitter taste.” I hated the new cook. He or she was the worst; it was the worst coffee I’d drank in my whole life. “Anyways, I should leave now. Gerome must be waiting for me.” I lied to him again. Gerome had been gone for the last two days and I didn’t have the slightest hint of where he’d gone.
“Nice meeting you.” He shook my hand.
A bolt of electricity passed through our bodies. How can I tell you, Tristan, that I still love you?
I left ten bucks on the table and headed out from there. It turned out to be another bad day. But I never got the answer. Why did he come here alone? When he has a girlfriend? And why the same coffee house?
Chapter 12
Nikki
Here I am, biting my nails. The events unfolding in front of my eyes were shocking and earth-shattering. I was standing in my home in front of mirror. Three hours were left before the main battle between Tristan, Rick and two opponents from the rival team. It was a tag team match, the final match which would decide the fate of me and Stephen.
“Are you ready, babe?” Gerome came and rubbed my shoulder. “I know it’s a daunting moment, but I trust Rick and Tristan. They will get us to the other end of the tunnel.”
His words were reassuring. But my mind was still doubtful about everything. “What if we lose this one? What other option do we have?” I couldn’t see any. Everything looked dark if we don’t win the match.
“Do you trust Tristan?” he asked. A shadow of pain ran through his eyes. For the last couple of days, he’d been acting weird. He was running around, collecting things, buying new things and just…busy. He didn’t bother to ask me anything. I asked him what was he doing, but he always avoided my question.
“What’s going on with you, Gerome? You’ve looked unsettled for the last couple of days.”
“It must be anxiety for the final match. You know how much I want it to go in our favor,” he said, biting his nail.
“I can see that.” I sighed. He also had the same anxiety as me. At least someone was with me in all this. “Thanks, Gerome, for being with me. You are more help than I’d ever imagined.” I was really thankful to him. In spite of all the turbulence of emotions I was going through, he stood there with me, at least as a support.
“I wish I was with you back when you needed me most.” He continued rubbing my shoulder.
“Shall we?” I asked. I was eager to meet my team, Tristan and Rick. I wondered how Tristan would be feeling now. After meeting him four days ago in the coffeehouse, I was all unsettled with my own thinking. I really loved him, but he looked happy with Trisha. But I never got to know why he came there alone for a complete month. He must be hiding something from me, but what was it? Even no alcohol, and his return to the game was surprising. I knew his condition; no way could he come back in the game. But he was there, kicking everybody’s ass around. What really happened with him? Where did he get this angel booster from? And what was with the tagline? ‘There are angels in this world and then it’s me.’ What had he really meant by that?
“You ask me and then disappear in your own thoughts. Don’t worry. If we win today, we will cover all our debts.” Gerome smiled and kissed me on my cheek. “I’m sorry, Nikki, forever hurting you in anyway. But trust me, there was always a reason behind this all.”
“It’s okay, Gerome. I’d forgiven you long ago. Let’s go now.”
***
Twenty minutes later, we were in the club, watching the duo of Tristan and Rick practice. Tristan was on a roll; he was battling with three players simultaneously and still he wasn’t breaking a sweat.
“Why is he fighting so intensely right before the match?” I asked his personal coach.
“Don’t worry. He’s good. He is the greatest fighter I’ve seen in the last decade. Nothing beats him in the ring. Sometimes I wonder where he gets all his strength from. It should be something emotional. Otherwise such a feat would not be possible.”
Tristan rolled on the ground and kicked one of the opponent in shin. The next moment, the op
ponent was on the ground and Tristan was on his chest, beating his head on the ground.
“Is that even allowed? Beating his head like that?” I asked in fear. I thought Tristan would get busted for his action.
“Don’t worry. You can kill someone in the ring and still, you get out clean. That’s how the underground MMA ring works.”
“You mean the illegal championship we’re running here.” I knew it was all illegal, but killing? Seriously?
“Don’t worry. Nobody will get killed. Tristan knows his limits and he is a moral person. That’s why I like him as a player,” Coach said.
“How was it, Coach? Hi, Nikki.” Tristan came outside of the ring. A player was wiping sweat from his body with a towel.
“Fantastic, but you have to work a bit on your legs. Now go and do some more practice. We start in an hour,” Coach said.
“Are you sure, Coach? More practice? We have a match in a couple of hours. Shouldn’t he be resting or taking therapy?”
“No, the last thing I want him to do is get his back rubbed by a woman’s hand. There’s no room for emotions before he fights the match,” Coach yelled.
Then you made a wrong decision, Coach. The moment he was fighting for me, emotions were all involved.
“I’ll see you at the match, then.” Coach shook hands and went away.
***
“Hey, Nikki, how are you?” Trisha came from somewhere and patted on my shoulder.
“Hi, Trisha.” I couldn’t guess how I should treat her after seeing her hanky-pankyness with Tristan in the open. But she acted very nicely to me; I couldn’t blame her for Tristan's choices. “Fine, thanks. How are you doing?”
“Nice. I wanted to tell you something. Very important, indeed,” she said. Her muscles on her face were contracted, her eyes were rolling here and there. It must be something important she was going to tell me.
“Trisha, what are you doing here? Can you come and bring some juice for me?” Tristan called her from a distance. He was training on a machine.
“What’s that, Trisha?”
“I’m sorry, Nikki, Maybe some other time. I’ll call you.” She turned away.