Meyer asks, “Grey, did you hear me?”
I turn around to face him. “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing Grey, nothing.”
Jimmy strides over. “Hey, hey, now; calm down the both of you. Grey, you know the deal. Just get yourself ready and head on out. I’ll be there in a minute.” This is the normal way we do things. I explode at Meyer and Jimmy smoothes it over. I spin on my heel, heading toward the cage. Chanting flows through the room as I walk up the steps.
“Pace, Pace,” echoes throughout the room. A year ago, this chant would have been welcome. I would have been so enamored with it. Now, though, the reality of this whole thing makes me nauseous. I don’t want anything to do with this crooked world. In hindsight, the contract I signed holds me to things I’m so against…losing at their say-so or winning when they say I can. I glance at the guy across the mat.
Jarod Palmer, on the other side along the linked fence, seems skittish. He looks like he was plucked out from behind a desk in an office. He’s taller than me and thinner. This will be an easy win. I guess I should be glad I’m not supposed to throw this one. That would be difficult to pull off. I force my feet forward and step into a straight punch, landing it in his abdomen. He tries to move away, but I’m faster. Quickly I follow with a roundhouse kick to his side. He loses his footing and staggers back into the cage. I surge forward, readying another punch. He sweeps my legs out from under me, though. I wasn’t expecting that from this guy. I go down hard on one knee. He attempts to put an arm around my neck in a guillotine hold, but I maneuver out of it and pull him to the side. He loses his balance and falls to the mat. My body covers his and time is called. Immediately I scamper to my end. Jimmy calls through the links, “Good one, Champ; two more.” He tries to take Jackson’s place, but his shoes can’t be filled by anyone else. I can’t help but make a frustrated grunt.
The whistle calls the next round, and I’m on Jarod like a hawk on its prey. I get him down, forcing all my weight into his back. My arm encircles his neck and pulls tightly. A second later, less than a minute into the round, he taps out. Again I leave for my corner. Jimmy repeats himself. “One more, Champ.” Instead of ignoring him, I turn to meet his stare. “This is bullshit.”
He looks away miserably. I know at this point it’s not his fault, but I can’t reel in my frustration. In the last round I take Jarod down with his own move, sweeping his legs out from under him. He falls to his side. As I descend onto him, he rolls, toppling over my back clumsily. The entire situation makes me want to scream. If I were up against Parker or anyone else of that caliber, a mistake like that would never have been made. I twist away, holding him in a choke. He taps out and the decision is made in my favor. The crowd goes wild, and I feel even worse—if that’s possible. But I do see Andy’s point now. It’s not fun if there isn’t a challenge. Maybe this underground thing will be just what I need to keep everything else going.
***
As I walk to the truck, I deftly punch in a short text to Christina to let her know I won. Even though it was pretty much planned, at least she’ll be happy. I guess right now that’s what matters. I drive over to the little bar we found while she was here, ready to lose myself in the haze of alcohol. But as I enter the space, I notice a group of girls around a pool table toward the back. One in particular catches my attention, reminding me yet again of Christina. I sit at a stool facing the bar, nursing my drink. The mirror behind the counter gives tiny glimpses of the scene at the other end of the room. Andy and his girlfriend are there kissing one another when he isn’t up at the table. Other girls gather around Cassidy. I look away, ready to dismiss them. I don’t need any more connections here. If I have no one, I have nothing to lose.
An hour later someone pulls out the stool next to me. I’m ready to say that it’s taken, but Cassidy slides in. She smiles over at me, moves her gaze to the bartender, and orders a beer. Once it’s placed in front of her, she takes a long draw before stating, “So, Greylan is it? I looked you up.”
My hand grasps my own glass, twisting it on the hard wood below. She continues as if we are having a conversation. “You’re not doing so hot in the cage, are ya?”
My eyes move to hers in a squint. She’s smiling, taunting. Fuck, Christina. This chick is like her twin. I force my gaze away.
“Well, I still think you should kick Andy’s ass, even though you don’t seem to be doing well topside.”
Andy’s voice behind us calls out, “Cassidy, what the hell are you doing talking to that loser?” This seems like my cue to get out. The last thing I need is a bar fight. Kicking his ass in the ring will be a pleasure after this.
His voice gains momentum and volume as he slinks closer. “Cass, come on. Jenna needs you.” I glance over at her to see her reaction. She’s staring up at me to see what I’ll do. I nod, encouraging her to go, but she crosses her arms and shakes her head. I glare, turning on the stool to face him. She planned this shit—something Christina would do. Figures.
“Andy is it?” My tone is quiet and firm.
“Yeah, dude, you’re not welcome here. We don’t cater to losers.”
I look around the bar and back to him. “Really? Is this your bar?”
“Just get the fuck out. No one wants you here.” His fists begin to clench at his sides. I almost see something of myself in him. He wants it all so bad, but it’s directed wrong. It’s funny to see it from the other side.
Cassidy speaks up. “Andy, leave Greylan alone. He didn’t come here to fight with you.”
He glances over to her. “So you’re on a first-name basis with him? What the hell, Cassidy; he’s bad news.” Something else is there as he looks at her. I know that look, regret. I wonder, but it doesn’t matter. Neither of them matters to me.
Cassidy moves her hand, grasping my fingers and lifting them so Andy has a good view. I can tell his anger is about to take over. I shake my head and release Cassidy’s hand. She seems disappointed, but I take a step forward so my face is only inches from his. I whisper, “Save it for the ring.” And then I pull away with a wink. Before he can react, I throw money on the bar for my drinks and walk out the door. As scary as it is, I see so much of myself in Andy’s eyes—myself as I was years ago. He’s hungry but unsure where to direct it all. I smirk at that. I’m more than ready to give and take a beating. This thing might work out after all.
Chapter 9
Red hair moves through the air as if it’s weightless. My hands reach out but, she’s too far away. I try to move, but my feet won’t budge, I’m stuck in place and the sound, bone against brick is hollow, as if bringing death.
I sit straight up in bed, a slight sheen of sweat covering my chest, heaving for air. I shake my head at the passing images, flitting to the back of my mind until the next time I fall asleep or remember. I thought, when Meyer told me the gory details of how he and Mollie tricked me and Theodore James into our terrible fates, the dreams would possibly fade. They changed but didn’t go anywhere. Now I see it for what it was, a terrible accident that was a set-up. Neither Theodore nor I could have predicted how it would go down. Hell, Meyer couldn’t have predicted the outcome. Unfortunately, I’m still the only one to be blamed, and I’ll carry it with me to my last breath. I’m the one who threw the punch that killed him. The guilt will never leave and, in some ways, I’ve come to terms with that fact. But I also can’t forgive. I’ll never let him forget the fact that he made a decision for me that affects my life forever, because I can’t.
My phone dings with a text.
Tonight, explosive building.
The number is blocked, but I know it’s from Frank or Chris. I found out why the building they use for the fights is such a shit hole and in the middle of nowhere. Apparently back in the ‘50s, the government experimented with explosions out there. Nuke bomb stuff. The building is one of the places they used for testing. Now there are rumors about radiation still around and no one goes near the area. It kind of works in favor of Fran
k and Chris and their pursuit of monopolizing underground fighting in Vegas. They have quite the set-up.
A knock on my door forces an arm over my forehead. This is the second morning in a row that Meyer has pissed me off. “What do you want, Meyer?” My voice is angry.
“Umm, Grey, can I come in?”
“No, just say whatever you need to out there. I can hear you. I don’t want to look at your shitty face.”
The handle on the door moves, and I’m about ready to throttle him if he sets foot in the room. But long dark hair peeks around the edge, followed by my sister’s face. A disappointed scowl crosses her face. Shit.
I try for upbeat as I sit up. “Hey, Trinity. I didn’t expect to see you here today. Did I miss your call?” I pull my phone from the table, knowing already that she didn’t call or text.
She steps through the door, still pissed at me. Meyer has a shit-eating grin on his face, lingering behind her in the hallway. I glare in warning. I definitely think I need to hit him. He walks out of sight before I can react. Instead, I leap out of bed, pulling Trinity into a hug. My finger goes to her nose naturally but she squirms away, her hands landing on her hips.
“Greylan, why do you talk to Meyer like that? He’s been your best friend for so long now.”
A sigh escapes as I sit on the edge of the bed and slip a t-shirt over my head.
“It’s kind of complicated, Trin. Believe me, it isn’t undeserved.”
“Well, I think it’s rude.”
I change the subject. “So what brings you over here, kid?”
She smirks, taking the space beside me. “Can’t a girl come and see her big brother to congratulate him on a big win? Maybe your rough patch is behind you.”
Crap, I forgot about last night. Some win. I almost want to laugh at her implication that I was going through a rough patch with the losses.
“Yeah, a girl can. Thanks.”
She smiles, grabbing my hand and squeezing. “I also wanted to see if you’d be interested in coming with me to Parker’s fight next week.” Damn, I forgot. He’s going for the title belt. Well, defending it would be a better way to put it. The last thing I want is to be seen at a title fight, especially his; but I put on my best smile and tell her, “Of course, if I don’t have anything else going on.”
She shakes her head but doesn’t say anything else. Over the past year, she has figured out that making me feel guilty will usually sway me in her favor. At this point, she doesn’t feel the need. Not yet at least.
She stands. “Okay, well I guess I’ll go. I have to meet a girlfriend for lunch.”
She turns to go but hesitates. “Umm, Grey, what happened with you and Mollie? I don’t see her around anymore. You seem different.” Here it is, the real reason for this little visit. I knew there was something else. There always is with my sister.
“It just didn’t work out. It’s okay.”
“But I thought she was it. You two were so into each other…”
I cut her off. “Remember I don’t believe in that stuff. It doesn’t work that way. There were too many things we didn’t see the same way.” I stop for a minute before adding, “I’m good with it. So don’t get all sad-eyed on me.”
She chuckles absently, but I can tell her mind is turning things over. That’s when I have to watch out. I stand, placing my hands on her shoulders and walking slowly toward the door, urging her forward.
“I promise Trin. I’m good.”
She smiles and kisses me on the cheek before walking down the hall to the stairs. Thank God. I’m sure that won’t be the last I hear about it.
Footsteps echo down the hall behind me. I turn to see Meyer leaning on the wall, next to his room. His arms are crossed and a smug smile is plastered across his mouth. I leap toward him, intending to scare him. It works; he skirts into the room and slams the door. Coward.
“That’s what I thought.” My words bounce off the door. He’s such an idiot.
He calls out through the door, just loud enough to have an effect. “It’s not over with Mollie, Grey.”
I shake my head as I cross the hall, and my hands rest on the frame of the door. He always does this shit, talks in riddles like I’m supposed to figure things out. But with everything that has happened, there’s no way I could have known what was in store for all of us.
I yell at the door. “I’m not interested, Meyer.”
The handle jiggles as the door swings back an inch. His wide brown eyes peek out. I turn to walk away, but his words stop my feet.
“She loves you.”
Every cell of my body freezes. I’m not sure what to do. This is what I had wanted for so long, to know that she felt the same way I did—some evidence that this whole persona she puts on is just an act. But this is coming from Meyer, who doesn’t have a truthful bone in his body.
I force my feet in the direction of my room. His voice gains in volume. “I heard her talking to Luciano. She was begging him to let you out of the contract.”
As hard as it is, I continue through the door, closing it until I hear a click. I’m not sure if Meyer speaks the truth or if he’s playing me again. I can’t let myself care, though. She betrayed me, and I can’t forgive that.
***
I walk into the old warehouse. It smells of stale beer and mildew. The crowd is still sparse, but I’m early. I want to get a feel for the space before I enter the ring. Rules here are thrown out the door. Last man standing wins, which is the opposite of everything I’m used to.
The door opens and slams with each person that enters. Chris steps up beside me, pushing his glasses up his nose, as I lean against the ropes, remembering how Jackson used to perch at the edge of the ring and watch for hours. One day he shared that his fighting career was cut short by a move to his back. He was never the same again. He suffers from chronic back pain. Now, leaning into the ropes helps him keep his footing for hours; but it’s also his favorite place, as close as you can get without being in the ring or cage.
“Grey, did Frank speak with you yet?”
I shake my head, silently concentrating on the mat in front of me. It’s loaded with stains and scuff marks.
“Well, we’re having a little problem with Andy right now.” I turn, giving him my full attention.
He continues, almost embarrassed. “He’s throwing a fit about you fighting here. He says he’s going on strike until you either leave on your own or you get beat up and are forced to leave.”
“Doesn’t he want to be the one to send me away?”
Chris shakes his head, at a loss for words. I pat his back a few times. “Dude, it’s okay. Do I get to fight tonight?”
His demeanor changes. “Oh yeah. Actually, when some of the other regulars learned that you’d be here tonight, we had to make a couple of picks. They all wanted at you.”
He adds, “Don’t worry about Andy. He’ll come around.” A smile spreads at his own brilliance. “Actually, it’ll be just like the pro circuit; you’ll make your way up to the top.”
Being a smart ass, I ask, “What makes you think I’m capable? I’m losing all my pro fights, after all.”
He chuckles. “Grey, we might look like idiots but, believe me, we’re pretty intelligent. Look around; this is what success looks like.”
He’s pretty right on. Because if I’m truthful, I’m anything but successful in anything that I do. I glance around as the room fills. That is about to change, though. I climb through the ropes and nod to Chris before he turns back around and climbs down to his perch on the outside edge.
Frank hops up, out of breath. He admits with a grin, “It was tough getting in tonight.” He looks over to Chris and asks, “Is there an occupancy limit, ‘cause I think we’re gonna pass it?”
I spin on my heel, glancing around the room. I’ve only been here for about fifteen minutes, but the room has filled above capacity. Bodies are pressed against one another, all looking my way. Frank places his arm on my shoulder and whispers, “This is the beauty of
this business. Rumors fly, and everyone wants to take a look at the new Rookie.”
My gaze swings his way. He laughs, “One phone call. That’s all it took.” He releases me and steps to the center of the ring. Another man climbs up onto the mat across from me. His head is shaved, and it’s obvious that his nose has been broken at least once. A grimace crosses his mouth as he meets my stare. It’s always easier to beat his ass when the dude you’re fighting gives you dirty looks.
Frank’s voice booms through the room, “Welcome all to another night at explosive fights.” Yelling and clapping fill the room.
“We have quite a treat for you tonight. Davey Bigfoot Benson is back.” The crowd explodes over the announcement. I scan the faces, enjoying my anonymity.
Frank calms the crowd and continues. “Here for the first time, though I’m sure not the last, is the Rookie.” This time the crowd isn’t quite as rowdy, but one voice yells louder than the others. I spot Cassidy, her hands cupping her mouth and screaming across the room. I smile, but it quickly turns to a frown, as Andy who is next to her whispers something close to her ear. She smacks his hand away from hers and shakes her head. I saw that look back at the bar when he looked at her. I’m pretty sure he has other things to deal with, besides whether or not he wants to fight me.
Someone begins the chant I heard the last time I was here. I suspect it’s in honor of my presence. “Wish you well” the crowd repeats as one. I guess I need to show them that well wishes aren’t necessary. I lift my shirt to screams and toss it into the audience with a smile.
Frank leaves the ring with a wink toward me. I surge forward, landing a punch across Davey’s face. His head moves with the force, spewing blood across a few girls who are positioned front and center at the foot of the mat. I watch them whine about it, but I’m quickly distracted when Davey comes at me with a rounded punch. My arms rise, blocking the hit. I lift my leg, kicking him in the gut. He staggers back again. I shift my eyes to Frank. A permanent smile widens. I shift back and face the big-foot guy. Why the hell do they call him that? I look to his feet and almost lose my focus. His feet are gigantic, compared to the rest of him. He moves again in an attempt to take me down. His hands grab my arms, but my body won’t budge. I decide I’ve had enough of this dude. My fist comes up, slamming against his jaw. He releases my arms and bounces against the ropes. I move my hands again and again into his abdomen, until finally he falls to his knees. He tries to stand, but I come around behind him and force him into the mat, with my knee on his back. A second later, I lift away and wait. He doesn’t attempt to get up.
No Fear Page 5