No Fear

by Heather Allen

  “Okay.” I wait a few beats, but she doesn’t add anything.

  She nods, and I take that as my cue to leave. I turn around, thankful that I don’t have to look at her intense stare any longer. I thought I was in it all the way with her, but now I realize she was never the one. If she were, I wouldn’t feel so betrayed by what she did. It wouldn’t have happened if she really cared. I need to keep reminding myself of this, and I’ll be so much better off.

  Chapter 11

  After the fight, I came straight back to the house. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like drinking, especially after pretty much completely ending it with Mollie. I keep telling myself that this is a good thing. It’s for the best. I know this, but I still long to touch her, to see what it could be. I won’t, though. The best thing I can do at this point is to leave it alone. We’re both better off.

  After wallowing for half the night in my own self-pity, I find myself dialing Christina. It’s been over a week since we saw each other and I was an idiot, pushing her away. I’ve thought a lot about that night. Maybe I was wrong. She had a point when she said we are good together. We get along great and have a lot in common. I’m just so reluctant to start anything, for fear it will end everything we do have. I need her in my life. I’m not sure if being together like that would be good for us.

  The phone continues ringing until finally a robotic voice picks up the line, explaining that I should leave a message. After a split-second decision I tell the voice, “Christina, please call me. I think we need to talk about things. I want to talk about things. Just call…” I hit end before I sound any more desperate. This is not a good place for me to be.

  I lean back onto my bed, dozing and ready to forget about the shitty day I’ve had and the women in my life who won’t cooperate.

  I’m woken by heavy feet on the wooden stairs up to the second floor. They travel in front of my door and stop. A thud sounds on the door before I hear a voice, Meyer’s voice. He says in his whiny tone, “Greylan, I don’t know if you’re awake. I guess maybe it would be better if you’re not.” His voice halts. “I…I…man, this is tough…” Silence spreads for a number of minutes, and I wonder if he’s left. But he speaks through the door again, and his speech is slurred. Obviously he’s been out drinking. “Dude, I think you need to get out, somehow, get out of the contract. I don’t think it’s going to end well. I feel terrible that I did this to you.”

  I’d like nothing more than to yank the door open and pummel him. But instead I remain on my bed, sliding lower and covering myself up with the blanket to drown his words. His voice has traveled; it’s muffled when he admits, “I didn’t know about them, the mob. I thought I was doing you a favor…” I realize he’s not going anywhere at the moment. My eyes close, as I try to erase his voice. For a moment I wonder if I should listen to him, but I dismiss the thought as soon as it surfaces. I can’t count on Meyer to ever tell the truth. More lies… Luckily, I’m pretty tired and it doesn’t take long for me to go back to sleep.

  The nightmares don’t stay away, though.

  Theodore James stands in the alley looking innocent. His face is blank, oblivious to his fate. I watch as Mollie walks out the door. It slams behind her, sealing the events in place. She asks if he’d like to make a quick fifty bucks. He smiles and makes an inappropriate comment. She ignores it and crosses the space to whisper in his ear. “All you have to do is kiss me and make it look believable.” He replies, “Anything you want, baby.” They begin kissing, and his hands travel in areas that weren’t discussed. Anger rises in me as I cross the alley and pull him off of her. He attempts a punch, but it’s pretty pathetic. Then my fist connects and his head hits, making my whole body tense up…

  My eyes pop open as sleep recedes. It’s always some variation of the same nightmare. I think I’ve conjured up every possibility that could have gone down that night. Now that I know more details, I guess my mind tries to fill in the gaps with other things I still don’t know. I’ll probably never know.

  I climb out of bed and get a shower. As I pull the door open to the hall, Meyer falls backward into my room, catching himself with his hands before hitting the floor. I guess he never left the hallway last night. I step over his lanky form, heading for the kitchen downstairs. He calls out, “Grey.” His voice is still laced with sleep. I ignore him and continue on.

  Rushed movements echo down the hall. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay far the hell away. In the kitchen, I sink into a chair at the table with a cup of coffee, pulling out my phone. A text message flashes across the screen. I thumb the button to see Christina’s hurtful words.

  Grey, I appreciate that you want to talk and smooth things over ‘cause you’re good at that, right? I don’t want things smooth; I’m not happy with that. I’m sorry you feel bad, but so do I. I’ve come to realize this week that maybe we aren’t good together after all. I was wrong the other night, and I’m sorry about that, but so were you. I think you’re afraid of taking that next step with fighting and possibly with me. I have to say goodbye for now, Grey. We both have too many things right now that we’re dealing with. It’s better if we’re apart.

  I slam the phone down on the table and stare at nothing. She’s never been like this. Why the hell am I getting the brunt of her pain? I want to hit that dude, Jonathan, so bad right now.

  Shuffling feet move across the worn yellow linoleum. Meyer shifts across the room, gathering ingredients for a bowl of cereal. When he settles across from me, he looks first to my face and down at my hand still clenched around the phone. His brows rise as he scoops a large spoonful of cereal, shoveling it into his mouth. After his jaw works a few times, he says through the food, “You might need a new phone now.”

  I turn it over in my hand to reveal a cracked screen. Fuck! I glare at him as I get up. I don’t have any patience for him—not just today, ever.

  He asks to my back as I turn to leave, “Did you think about what I said last night?”

  I stop but don’t turn around.

  “I figured you were awake. Just try to get out of it, Grey. I know I told you different. I know I said to just do what I say. Don’t. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore, and I’ve screwed up your life enough. I have a bad feeling about it, though, so maybe listen this one last time and do what you can to get away from the deal.”

  My hands clench, warding off any desire to take his puny throat into my fingers and squeeze.

  “Meyer, why would I take any advice you have to give, ever again?”

  He must have taken another bite because his voice is uneven, working over food again. “I suck, I know. Nothing I say should have any relevance to you. But they’re making it impossible for you to ever come back from where you are. Once you get to the bottom, you’ll be out of the circuit and fighting will be a memory. I never would have wanted that. I know it’s everything to you…”

  More spouting off at the mouth. What a fuck up. My phone beeps with an incoming text. I ignore Meyer, while glancing at it while I walk out. It’s from Frank, telling me there’s a fight tonight. It’s the best news I’ve had all week. I walk out into the heated morning, aiming for the truck. A second text comes through with only one word.

  Andy

  A smile spreads over my mouth. Maybe this day will get better after all.

  The gym is packed when I get there. As I walk through the room, the atmosphere has changed; most of the time I’m ignored. Not today, as word must have spread about the fight tonight. Pats on the back and well wishes are pushed my way. My lip quivers at the show of support. It took getting a fight with Andy for anyone in this place to acknowledge me. It’s good to know these people are just as shallow as the others I’m dealing with. What do I have to lose at this point, though?

  A couple of hours later, Frank approaches the mat where I’m sparring with a dude who was a little too eager when I was looking for a partner. I’d say he’s pretty much got himself a few days off from here. He
’s taken a pretty good beating.

  “So Greylan, you ready for tonight?” A sneaky smile spreads over Frank’s mouth.

  “What’d you do to get him to agree to a fight with me?” I huff the words out in between hits.

  “I think he saw the genius in my plan, finally.” Frank moves next to the wall, leaning in and crossing his arms.

  “And what is that?” I stop to face him, my hands dropping to my sides. He looks over my shoulder, nodding to the guy I was fighting. The dude skirts off the mat muttering, “Thanks for the match.”

  I don’t bother turning. Instead I want Frank to feel the pressure and answer my question. I’m not getting into any more deals. I’m already buried. At least with underground fighting, I can do what I want, which was the point of agreeing to this in the first place.

  “Hey, it’s nothing—just a partnership with you and Andy.”

  My arms cross to indicate as much intimidation as I can. I’m not letting this weasel have the upper hand. I walk in closer, leaning forward with a squint.

  He laughs nervously. “Grey, it’s nothing to worry about. I promise. Nothing in comparison to what I’m sure you’re already up to your neck in.”

  I’m shocked by his words, but I don’t let on that he is right on with his suspicions. Maybe Frank is smarter than I originally gave him credit for.

  He places his hands on his hips, leans in, and admits, “You aren’t the first and you won’t be the last. They get their claws in and you can’t get out. That’s the way the mob works. Why do you think they’re still around? It’s a lucrative business.”

  I wait with no emotion. I never thought I was the only one. I knew about the guy before me, but I never focused on what might happen after me or the fact that I might wear out my welcome. Trinity and Parker creep into my thoughts. Beyond me, what will they do when they’re finished with Parker? For the first time, I realize my situation might not be the worst thing I need to worry about. Meyer might know something more than he’s telling. As much as I don’t want to talk to him, I might need to.

  Frank explains, “You’re safe as long as they don’t find out you’re fighting for us. Chris and I are taking a big chance with you fighting.”

  “Then why bother?” I take a step back and lower my arms.

  His brows rise, and a smile spreads as he skims his fingers together. “Money, dude. It’s all about the dollars for us and them. Only we don’t throw you out with the garbage when you’re used up.” His words hit home because of Trinity. Maybe keeping her unaware of everything isn’t a good idea. This can’t be good news for Parker in the long run. How will it affect her?

  “Anyway, the deal I made was the only way I could get Andy to agree. I know I told you fifty-fifty, but I had to promise him something else—double or nothing. If he wins, he gets your share and his. If you win, you get both shares.”

  I pretend to think it over, but the money is not what it’s all about. The fighting is why I’m in it. I nod in agreement after making him wait a minute.

  “I figured. It’s not about the money for you, is it?” Frank asks, repeating my thoughts out loud.

  “I think you know the answer to that.”

  He laughs. “I thought so. See you tonight.” He walks to the office in the back.

  Reluctantly I pull off my gloves and stow them in my bag. As I walk to the truck, a silver Corvette pulls up to the building. Andy climbs out, shaking his head with a snarky smile on his face.

  “Come to see if you can get in a last-minute training session? Don’t know why you bothered. I’m gonna wipe that mat with your face.” He spits the words out.

  What a little prick. I cross the distance, getting in his face. My hands clench at my sides. “You wanna go at it right here? Come on, you little shit.” I step closer, willing him to take the first hit.

  For the first time he looks reluctant, maybe a little scared. He doesn’t move one way or the other. I knew the kid was all talk. It’s still going to be fun beating his ass. I move away muttering, “That’s what I thought.”

  Before I can turn, he comes at me with a thrust, aiming for my side. I was expecting him to attack like this. I move away and his fist misses me, causing his feet to overstep. I grab his arm and twist it. His body shifts with the movement and a wince crosses his features. I release his arm and tell him. “This is your first lesson, dude. Never attack your opponent from behind. Not only is it a terrible way to make friends, but it’s also sneaky and back-handed. You’d be called in the cage.”

  “What makes you think I want to fight in the cage?” He steps away, landing back against his car as if he didn’t just attack me.

  This time a smile meets my lips. “You want it. You just don’t know how to get it.” I don’t add that the look in his eyes was the same look I saw in the mirror six years ago when I was trying to climb to the top. He’s hungry, just like I was back then. I walk away before any more thoughts invade. I don’t want to face the road I’ve taken. It’s very different than anything I would have imagined back then.

  I look back over at his still figure when I reach my truck. “See you tonight. You might want to consider a last-minute training session. It might help, but I doubt it.”

  Chapter 12

  The crowd is yelling Andy’s name as I enter the warehouse. Flailing arms and bodies move close like a giant wave unsure of the direction it wants to travel. It smells of stale beer and the lights are dim, which is probably a good thing, to mask the ugliness of the room. A spotlight aimed at the ring from overhead gives me a destination to aim for through the crowd. I’m hyped up and ready. Finally, a well matched fight that I can put everything into. My excitement at the prospect rises.

  Frank’s voice calls above the crowd. “This is it, the fight you’ve all been waiting for. Will Andy meet his match tonight? Can the Rookie beat him down?” Screams from the hordes of people spread. More chanting for Andy begins. The familiar wave of their arms in salute to Andy moves around the room. Finally, my hands are on the ropes, pulling my body up onto the mat. A hand grazing the skin on my arm distracts me before I climb up. It’s Cassidy with a smile from ear to ear. She mouths her words, because there is no way I’d ever be able to hear over the chanting. “Good luck.”

  I smile and move forward, standing to more voices. Frank exclaims, “Here’s the Rookie now. Let’s give him a warm welcome.” The crowd goes wild, yelling profanities. Frank doubles over laughing. He calls out when he gets himself under control, “Okay, calm down. It’s not every day that our champ has a challenge like this.” The nickname for Andy throws me for a loop. I haven’t been referred to as the champ in a long while. I suppose it doesn’t fit into my life any longer.

  Andy steps forward onto the mat and screaming girls waving their arms distract his attention. He lifts his shirt slowly, teasing with the movement and wiggling his torso while working the crowd. Finally, he throws it out into his fans who yell more. I remove my own shirt, dropping it to the side. Cassidy grabs it, smiling. She hugs it to her chest. I shake my head and look away. I can’t lead this chick on. I have enough problems with the women who are already a part of my life. My eyes move from Cassidy across the mat. Andy is glaring at me. He glances to Cassidy for a split second. I recognize it, just a glimpse, but I’m an expert: regret at its finest. I assumed he had a thing for her, but this glance justified my theory. Something must have happened for her to ignore him like she does. He attempts to stare me down but I look away, hoping this will cause him to get angrier. I need this fight—an even match with no repercussions for winning.

  Frank grabs everyone’s attention. “All right people, this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the challenge we’ve all been waiting for. Same rules apply.” He looks over at me with a glance and continues. “Last one standing wins.” Yelling echoes through the dank room.

  I step forward as Andy mimics my movements. He looks past me and back, shaking his head in frustration for a moment, and closes the distance. His eyes nar
row as he leans close and whispers, “Get ready to get your ass handed to you, loser.”

  I back away with a deep breath, willing the anger that I need to rise. Andy surges at me with a stiff arm to my side. My body goes rigid with the hit. I move out of the way of the next swing. He oversteps and I slam into his stomach with my shoulder. He backs up with the momentum and slams a fist into my side again. My grip loosens, but I force my body harder. He loses his footing and sails to his back, connecting with the mat. Before I have a chance to keep him down in a side hold, he rolls and slams his foot into my leg. This is definitely a match that’s going to take more thought for a win, I realize. I follow his body, half crawling and lifting to a crouch. My arm slides around his neck from behind. A deep breath escapes his mouth and his elbow meets my gut. It allows him a chance to get out of my grip. He slips out of my arms and scurries to his feet as I climb up to my own height. We both look over at Frank simultaneously. He smiles, nodding to both of us. I glance back to Andy as he starts surging toward me. My hand comes up at the last second, catching his gut with all my strength. He doubles over with the air gone. I don’t wait; my other arm comes around from the side, hammering into his ribs. He staggers back but not fast enough. I sweep my foot, catching his legs, and he falls onto one knee, not fully down.

  I fall forward, intending a hold that pushes him to the mat, but he leans on all fours and rolls away. I realize at this point that, if I want to win this one, I’m going to have to be smarter. He’s obviously faster. I step widely after he anticipates what I would do if I were in his position. I’d want back on my feet. I move around him, facing his body as he rises to a standing position. My hands dart out, locking around his arms. I push as hard as I can. He leans back into the ropes. Our eyes meet and I know he hates me, mirroring my own stare. The problem, though, is he reminds me of Parker—the smugness and surety he exhibits. I want to wipe it from his face, prove that he isn’t what everyone thinks.