No Fear

by Heather Allen

  My phone begins ringing and I answer without checking the screen. I expect Jimmy’s voice, but instead I get an earful before I can utter hello.

  “Greylan? Hey, are you there, because I have a bone to pick with you.” Christina. And I’ve never been so happy to hear someone’s voice before. She’s given me the silent treatment for two weeks now and it’s been hell. I’ve wanted to talk to her so many times, but I held back because I knew it wouldn’t be good for either of us. Now, though, I realize I was wrong. Anger, happiness, anything, I’ll take it as long as I can talk to her.

  “Hi, Christina. It’s so good to hear your voice.”

  “Oh no, don’t you try to turn on any of your charm with me. I’m still pissed at you. Forget about me right now and tell me why the hell you would drop Jackson? He was the best thing in fighting that ever happened to you and you let him go. What is wrong with you?”

  Somehow she got wind of Jackson. I know he didn’t tell her; he wouldn’t.

  She continues before I can get a word in.

  “And don’t think we are speaking right now. I’m still not talking to you. This is just something I couldn’t keep quiet about. What is the deal, you make it pro and you drop everyone from your past? That must be how it works. Well, you can go to hell, Greylan Pace.”

  “Christina, wait before you jump to any conclusions.”

  She cuts me off. “Jump to conclusions! How could you accuse me of that? You let Jackson go as soon as you started in Vegas. And me, I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”

  My mouth hangs open at her accusation. She claimed in her text two weeks ago that she didn’t want to talk to me. Hell, she just said it five minutes ago again. I’m already getting whiplash.

  “Christina, please, will you just listen?” My voice is pleading, but I don’t care at this point. She’s had it with me and I can’t lose her for good. I guess over the last two weeks I’ve convinced myself that we aren’t done, that she just needed some distance. Maybe I was wrong. She’s obviously very hurt.

  “Yes.” Her tone seems to have given up.

  I take a deep breath and ask, “Have you talked to Jackson?”

  “Well no, not exactly. Some of the fighters came into the bar for a drink, and they were talking about you dropping Jackson once you reached the circuit. They said it was a bad move because you keep losing. I have to agree with them.”

  I smile; there’s my Christina again. But how do I explain my reasoning while keeping her safe? She can’t know that I’ve sold my soul. If she found out, I’d never hear from her again.

  “Christina, it wasn’t because I have a new trainer. I don’t. I just needed him to go back to where he’s meant to be. He has a gym to take care of. I didn’t want to be his only concern, because what if I failed him? He would have given everything up because I messed up. Now I’m confident it was a good decision. You know as much as I do it would have driven him crazy standing on the side watching me lose, like I have been.”

  I hope this will suffice. Every word of it is true. I just omitted the fact that the losses have been on purpose. She’d kill me.

  “Well, I still think it was a terrible decision.” Her voice trails off. The anger from before has subsided. I know I have to address the matter of us now, and I have to be careful in choosing my words.

  “Christina, we can’t go on like this. I miss you.” When the words leave my lips, I realize that wasn’t exactly subtle. I wince, waiting for the dial tone.

  Instead, silence spreads. I’m concerned that maybe she did hang up and the phone just isn’t working properly.

  Finally her voice cracks and she answers. “I miss you too.”

  Where do we go from here? We both have so much in our past. I need her one way or the other, I realize. Hurriedly I ask, “Can we have a truce?”

  “Grey, I’m still in a pretty bad place. I just…I don’t want to drag you into it.”

  “I’m in it whether you want me in or not, Christina. I can’t take the silent treatment anymore.” I know this will bring that night into her thoughts, but we need it out there. Too many things have gone unsaid between us. I don’t know where we go from here, but I need her to be there for me. She’s the only one left in many ways.

  “Okay, I think I need to go.” Her voice is starting to choke up. The last thing I want is to make her cry or upset her with everything; and, as much as I need to get it out there, I give her a resigned answer.

  “I’ll talk to you soon then?” It’s more of a question, but filled with hope.

  “Yeah, soon.” Her answer doesn’t convince me, though. There is always the possibility that she’ll hang up and think about all of the things we didn’t say and never speak to me again. Before she can hang up, I try a last ditch effort.

  “Hey, I’m so sorry, Christina, for everything. I’m sorry for turning you down. I know you were hurting because of your breakup, and I wasn’t sure because of that. I should have been more understanding. And I should have kept calling you these past few weeks. I know better than to listen to your words all the time.”

  A strangled laugh sounds on the other end. I know she’s trying not to cry and failing.

  Her voice is so quiet, I push my phone against my ear harder, as if that will help me hear her.

  “Grey, I lied to you.” Just those words put me on guard. I’ve been lied to way too much; now Christina too.

  “Jonathan didn’t break up with me. He didn’t cheat on me. I broke up with him.” Relief spreads, because this is minor compared to everything else.

  She continues. “Grey, I screwed up when I was there. I never should have come without telling you.”

  She adds, “I can’t do this over the phone.”

  I’m at a loss for words. What does this mean? What can’t she do over the phone?

  “I have to go, really. I’ll call you tomorrow, Rookie.”

  “Okay.” As soon as I say the words, the line is dead and I’m more confused than ever. I can’t even remember everything except that she felt she needed to lie to me about her breakup with Jonathan. I was so pissed at him for hurting her.

  A text comes through, distracting my thoughts. I look to the screen and it’s from Frank. The one word I’ve been waiting for.

  Andy

  It's the only thing on the screen. It’s about fucking time the kid decided to try again. I’ve been itching for an even fight. Those others I’ve had have been good practice. A couple even got some good moves in, but overall I was more experienced and won all of them. Frank has started calling me the champ, I’m sure to get under Andy’s skin. I guess it worked.

  Chapter 15

  When I pull up to the warehouse, groups of people are walking toward the darkened building. No one takes notice of me except one. A narrow lanky body begins walking my way. I know that stride and the outline of his thin frame. As Meyer closes the distance, I decide to hear him out. Maybe he’ll quit being so cryptic and answer some questions. Doubtful.

  “Hi, Grey. Did you get my note?” I guess we’re getting straight to it.

  I lean back against my truck and cross my arms, ready for him to skirt around the subject. “Yeah. Why’d you leave?”

  “You have to leave too, Grey.” I didn’t notice before but, as another group passes us, the beam of their flashlight shines across his face. His eyes look like a crazy person’s and his cheeks are gaunt like he hasn’t eaten in days.

  “What the hell are you talking about? Why did you leave?”

  “They’re watching, Grey. Remember I told you they watch everything you do. That’s how they knew beforehand what would affect you and how to get you to sign on.”

  “You’re still not answering my question, Meyer.” I stand with my hands dropped to my sides. He pisses me off so easily.

  “This is why I can’t take anything you say seriously. You dance around the subject and never give everything up. In other words, you’re a liar. And I have a fight to get to.” I begin walking toward the building. I
know Frank must be wondering where I am.

  He rushes to keep up and forces the words through shorts bursts of breath. “They threatened my life, Grey. Two of Luciano’s men came to the house and held a gun to my head. They said I need to get you to stop fighting here or I’d be done.”

  My feet stop mid-stride. I glance over, and I know he’s telling the truth. Meyer is a lot of things that I hate and a liar is one of them, but I know that look on his face and remember it well. When we were fifteen, we snuck out of his house when I was sleeping over. The cops caught us drinking at the lake. I remember that look, because he was scared to death that night. He would have told the police anything when they pushed us into the back of their squad car. They drove us home and talked to his mom for a long time. She decided we had already been punished pretty bad, getting caught by the cops. She never mentioned it to my parents and neither did I. I felt what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. After that, we never snuck out again. She was right about how we were scared into never doing it again.

  Meyer has been scared out of his mind again, and he’ll do anything to try to get that fear to go away. I, on the other hand, have vowed to show no fear, and I don’t owe him anything. He has screwed with my life enough.

  “Meyer, I get why you left. Maybe you should stay gone.” I walk away from my best friend, knowing that this isn’t how he had hoped this would go, but he has already taken everything away from me. Now that I’ve got some semblance of fighting again, he wants to take that too. I won’t let him this time. If he disappears, they won’t be able to find him. At least that’s what I hope, for his sake. I won’t live to save him from himself. That ship sailed a long time ago.

  When I enter the dank room, Frank’s voice calls out and a bright light shines in my face.

  “There he is now; the Rookie has finally entered the building! Give him your respect.”

  Screams fill the space. As I walk to the ring, a few people grab my arm. I ignore them, thinking about Meyer. I didn’t ask him how the mob found out about me fighting here, but maybe he’s right. Maybe they do have people everywhere. I look around at the waiting stares, wondering who here is part of that other world. I’d never be able to tell.

  As I climb up onto the mat, I notice Andy on the other side glaring at me. He has already pulled off his shirt and his hands are wrapped in gloves, ready to get at me again. Behind him, standing next to Chris, is Cassidy. She winks when my eyes meet hers. Tonight I need to watch it and make sure I steer clear of her. Obviously I’ve given her the wrong message.

  Slowly I take off my shirt and wave it over my head before throwing it into the crowd. At least ten hands grab for air as it descends upon them. This causes a laugh, and then something unexpected begins to echo through the crowd. I remember the chant from that first night I watched Andy beat a dude silly; the crowd would always put its hands in a fist and wave it at whoever was challenging him, “wishing him well.” Now, though, they all raise their arms and shake them chanting, “We wish you well, Andy.” I’m amazed and at home all at once. This is where I belong. Long ago I thought the pro circuit was the ultimate goal, but I’ve realized the hard way that it isn’t. Sometimes you think you want something, but it really doesn’t turn out to be everything you had fooled yourself into thinking.

  I bow, causing a flourish of yells and laughing. Andy attacks. I knew he would; that’s his MO, but I didn’t anticipate each of his movements. His fist connects with my back, forcing my feet forward. I catch myself on the ropes before twisting toward him. My teeth gnash together with the pain and I whisper, “I thought I told you, never from behind. Are you that hard- headed?”

  Andy ignores me and forges another arm into my gut. I move at the last second, so it doesn’t hit quite as hard as he had intended. As I twist out of his arms, reaching to get my bearings, pain shoots up my side. He must have hit a nerve back there. Fuck.

  I run a gloved hand through my hair as I spin to face him. He spits into the air. I shake my head, as that’s another thing he’d be called on in the cage. Doesn’t this kid know anything? Not hesitating, I close the distance and grasp his arms in a draw. We spin around a couple of times. I attempt a sweep of his feet, but he only staggers with the movement. He remains standing, clenching my arms harder for support. After a number of minutes, many more than in a regular round, I fall backward, taking him with me. It catches him by surprise as I had hoped. Immediately, I swing us around so that his back is the one that hits the mat, not mine. It knocks the wind from him momentarily. His grip on my arms loosens and I move back, letting my guard down. He takes the opportunity and takes me down in a side hold. I attempt to slide out, but his arm comes around my neck. I can’t let this happen, but it is. He has been studying moves, I can tell. I arch my back with a last effort to get out. His arm loosens, allowing more air into my lungs. The last thing I want to do is tap out. His breath comes close to my ear. He whispers, “You’re going down loser and from behind.” This pisses me off, but my movement is limited.

  I move my arm forward and back in a quick jut of force, hitting his chest with my elbow. It doesn’t take him down, but I’m able to get out of his arm. I twist around onto my knees. He is already on his feet. I’ll give him that, he’s got speed. He comes at me with all of his weight. I slide on my knees and hop onto my feet with a kick to his side. His body shifts to the other side of me. Moving after him, my fist hammers into his back, just as he did to me earlier. A moan escapes his mouth.

  I glance at Frank, still not used to the rounds not being called. He nods in Andy’s direction and the kid is on me, That fast, in mere seconds. He sweeps my legs, falling forward onto my abdomen. His body shifts in a side hold and his knee rises into my side repeatedly. I wince at the pain that shoots through my body. He moves his knee a few more times and I’m about done. I can’t believe I let him get me down like this. I push on him, wanting to get my legs in a triangle hold. But he flips me over and takes my arm from behind, essentially using a version of an arm bar, and his arm is around my neck. I know what’s coming so I tap out. He doesn’t acknowledge it. I tap harder as his arm around my neck tightens. I’ve never been put out by a rear naked choke hold and this is shit…

  I wake seconds later on the mat, face down. I scramble to my feet and get into Andy’s smug face. “I fuckin’ tapped out. You don’t know how to do that shit; don’t play games. You could have caused damage, you asshole.”

  He laughs. “Did you forget, you’re not fighting in the cage right now? This is real, no tap out shit here.”

  I’m so furious I turn away, knowing I won’t be able to contain my anger if I keep looking at him. I pace the side of the mat opposite him. I’m seeing red, I’m so pissed off. I lost to this fuck-up. After a few minutes of wearing a path into the mat, Frank steps in front of me. His mouth is raised in his typical smug lift. I have the urge to knock it away. He holds his arms up while looking down. I follow his gaze and see that my hands are clenched, ready to pummel him. Immediately I loosen my fingers, telling him, “Sorry.”

  “No worries, dude. Just don’t want you to take it out on me.”

  I turn away, ready to get out of this place, but his hand on my shoulder halts my steps. He leans in, his voice low. “Don’t get all worked up over this one. Andy will want to go at it again. You’ll get another shot, I promise. Think of it as a tie right now. You both have a notch on your belt. The next one will decide a lot.”

  I nod and take long steps to the edge of the ring. As I climb down, I notice Cassidy standing before me. Her expression is edged with sorrow. I back up absently. She smiles at my reaction and remarks, “I guess I know where I stand in your book. Could repulsion be used to describe that reaction?”

  I shake my head. “No, definitely not repulsion. Just call it an overflow of women and their problems in my life.”

  She throws her head back, laughing. “Actually, I overstepped last time. I owe you an apology.”

  I raise my hand to silence anything else
she might have to say. “No apologies necessary. Did you and our resident champ get things sorted out?” I really don’t want to know, nor do I care, but it’ll keep her from focusing on me.

  She shakes her head sullenly, looking away. A few minutes pass with neither of us saying anything. I’m ready to blow out of this place when she looks back up. Her eyes are watery. “Let’s just say the ‘champ’ has a lot of sorting out to do.” She emphasizes his given nickname.

  I couldn’t agree with her more. “Well, I need to get out of here. It’s good to see you, Cassidy. Take care.”

  As I try to walk around her, she grabs my arm and asks, “Can you…do you have time to get a drink?”

  I’m about to shake my head, but Andy climbing down from the mat and heading in our direction grabs my attention. He’s pissed. I’m pretty sure I know why and it brings happiness, if only for the moment. I grab Cassidy’s hand and pull her through the crowd. Once we break out of the crowd and leave the building, she pulls me in a full-out run toward my truck. I know this is a very bad idea but, at the moment, pissing Andy off is more appealing than anything else.

  We climb in and I start the engine. Andy has started running toward us. I pull away, throwing dust up in our wake. As the building grows smaller behind us, so does Andy’s furious expression, and I can’t help but smile. Maybe I was wrong all along. Making the people in my life happy hasn’t turned out in my favor yet. Possibly, it’s my turn now.

  Chapter 16

  I tried to talk Cassidy into letting me take her home, but she insisted if I were going to be the cause of further anguish from Andy, then I at least owed her a drink. As I’ve done with so many other things, I broke my vow to go straight home after my fights. I’m turning over a new leaf tonight, I suppose.

  We end up at a narrow bar on the east side of the strip. She knows the bartender so, by the third shot, I’m beginning to slow both of us down. There are so many things about her that remind me of Christina, especially after I’ve been drinking.