No Regrets (No Regrets #1)

by Heather Allen

  The usual routine of fitting my hands into gloves and placing head gear on keeps my mind busy so I won’t dwell on the guy I’m about to fight. I smirk and ask, “So Jackson, where…”

  He cuts me off. “He is just above the middle, so you need to show me something I like if you want to fight next week.”

  I bite the mouth guard and climb into the ring. Maleko is waiting. He doesn’t give me a second to get my bearings before he forges forward with a rounded punch to my side. It throws my body off balance, forcing my footing to stagger backward. I glance at Jackson, who’s yelling at me, “Get your head in the game, Pace. Harris isn’t even going to flinch when you fight him. He’ll play dirty every chance he gets.”

  This brings me into the moment. My feet surge forward as I force an arm into Maleko’s chest. The guy doesn’t flinch. His hands move under my arms just as his foot sweeps my legs out from under me. I fall to my back but I roll away just as he falls forward to land on top of me. Instead, a loud thud echoes through the mat where all of his weight settled. I scurry to my feet, leaping onto his back and taking him in a choke hold. The big man taps the mat, realizing he won’t get out of the hold. As I stand smiling at my win, Jackson’s voice claims, “That was shit. You call that a win, Pace? You’re gonna have to get it together if you have any hopes of making it into the pro fights. There are some way bigger and faster dudes than Maleko here.”

  Maleko stands and shakes my hand. Before releasing, he pulls me forward and slams his other fist into my side. It knocks the wind out of me, causing my body to crumple onto the mat and I land on my knees. What the fuck? I look up and he’s still coming at me.

  Jackson yells, “Get the fuck up, Pace. Have you not heard a word I’ve said? Maleko, kill him if you need to. He needs a lesson.”

  As if just animated, I pop to my feet and move out of the way as Maleko swings a kick at my face. I grab his foot and pull, causing him to lose his footing. He staggers backwards as I surge forward in an assault of jabs to his stomach and chest. He falls to the mat onto his knees, giving me the opportunity to push with my whole body, forcing him further into the mat. I begin pounding on him. Maleko raises his arms to block the assault but I’m relentless. My blows rain in a flurry. He taps out but I don’t stop. I continue punching even as he has given up. Jackson skirts through the ropes, grabbing me in a choke from behind. My arms halt as a deep, broken breath escapes my lips.

  Jackson nods to Maleko as he pulls me away, not loosening his grip. Maleko hesitates a minute and utters, “Sorry, dude,” and continues on to the locker room. Jackson speaks in a low tone near my ear, “Grey, I’m gonna let you go.”

  I nod, just barely letting him know I’m coherent and aware of what’s happening. I sink to the mat, moving my hands up my head to push the gear away. My hand runs through my hair in frustration. One minute I’m fighting, getting somewhere, and the next I’m thinking about how I screwed up.

  Jackson sits on the mat next to me. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  I tighten my lips and shake my head. I want nothing to do with the thoughts that force their way into my head. The repetitious sound, over and over, of Theodore’s head hitting the brick wall. The sound of my sister’s sobs when I left her for five years, unable to keep my promise to my mom. And now the thoughts that she’s happy without me, with my enemy in the cage. Finally, the thought of Meyer, who abandoned me when I needed him the most.

  Jackson states in the most compassionate tone I’ve ever heard from the man, “I don’t know what’s going on with you; I can only imagine what you’ve been through. But you need to get your head on straight. If you have any hope of ever beating Harris, which I’m guessing is your goal, then you need to figure it out. You know more than anyone, it is as much your mind as your body. Do what you have to do or you’ll never make it back.”

  He starts to walk away, but turns as an afterthought. “I thought you’d like to know, the fight next week - it’s your last. After that you can go pro if you win.”

  I take a deep breath that catches in my ribs. I won’t have a chance if I can’t get my head straight. A few minutes later I move to a bag, concentrating on clearing my head. I focus on just the bag and nothing else.

  ***

  When I enter the new apartment later, my body sore from training all day, the rooms are silent but full of the furniture I picked out earlier. I lower my bag and make my way to the bedroom.

  Christina is wrapped up in a blanket on the raised king size bed. Her face is free of the worry from earlier. I smile and lower myself to the edge of the bed. My hand moves to brush her hair back from her forehead. “Hey, Christina. Time to get up. We have to go in soon.”

  She shifts her body, rolling onto her back. Her fingers come up to her eyes, shielding the light. “Hey, who turned the sun on?”

  I chuckle. “It’s been on all day. I guess you’ve been asleep for a while.”

  She nods. “What time is it?”

  “Five-thirty.”

  “I guess I have been asleep for most of the day. Your furniture came at noon. I just thought I’d take a little cat nap.”

  She rolls onto her side and opens her eyes, focusing on my face. “It’s a nice bed, Rookie. You wanna break it in?”

  I smile, shaking my head. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  A breath escapes her lips. “Yeah, I don’t think Jonathan would like that too much.”

  “Did you come to a decision?” I curse myself for asking, but that’s what friends do, right? I should show interest or at least act interested in what she’s decided.

  She shifts again, sitting up, wrapping the blanket around her. “Do you really want to know?”

  I look away in answer.

  “That’s okay, Grey. I understand. This lovey dovey shit isn’t your thing. You’re still my friend, though. And just in case you become interested later, I’ve decided to start with actual ‘dates’. I told him I wanted him to ask me out on a date and pick me up, the whole shebang.”

  I smile, meeting her stare. “How long do you think that will last?”

  “Shut up. If you had a pillow around, I’d throw it at you right now.”

  I stand and head for the bathroom. “Guess I still need to do some shopping.”

  When I’m out of the shower and back in the bedroom, I find a note on the bed.

  Grey,

  I left my blanket, I knew you’d need it. You’re such a guy.

  See you tonight.

  Christina

  If I’m truthful, a part of me is bummed that she decided to go back to Jonathan. There isn’t much I don’t like about her, and as much as she’ll deny it, she’s such a girl. She’s thoughtful, and after what they all are - a fairy tale ending. I’m glad for her that Jonathan came in to save the day, if that’s what she wants. Of course if the guy fails, I’ll have to beat his ass.

  Chapter 14

  A week later, I’m on my way into Juno’s. Immediately I start in on Christina as soon as I round the bar. “How many dates again? One, it only took one and you let him get into your panties. I knew you were easy but come on, Christina.”

  She smiles, refusing to give in to my harassment. After a while I tell her that I’ll kick his ass if he hurts her again. I make sure to add that there isn’t anything better out there so she has nothing to worry about. She laughs at my words most of the time because they’re so out of character for a big muscular guy like me who likes to fight more than anything else. But she’s one more person I feel I need to take care of. This is my way of helping her out and keeping my distance.

  “Hey, Christina, is the cooler stocked?”

  “Um, sorry, not sure.”

  “You okay? You know I’m just ribbing you about Jonathan. Right?”

  She nods absently.

  “I know. I’m still so unsure, though. What if…”

  I cut her off. “There are no what ifs. He would be crazy to leave you again. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
>
  She smiles, deciding to end the conversation. “No more sentimental shit. Go stock the coolers.”

  I smirk at her tactical way of avoiding the subject. I met Jonathan for the first time a few nights ago as the bar was closing. He came to pick her up for their ‘date’ and I laid down the law, I’m sure like her dad would have done if he were still here. I told him that if he so much as thinks about screwing her over again, I’d beat his ass. I’m pretty sure he took my threat seriously.

  My attention is diverted to the walk-in, satisfied that Christina is okay for the moment. I know she’s questioning her decision but I see the way Jonathan looks at her. The guy is in it for the long haul this time. Maybe time will help her believe what I’ve been telling her for the past week.

  The night drags on with the same routine. Most of the regulars have accepted me as a more permanent fixture in the bar. I took Christina’s advice months ago and listen to the monotonous drone of the patrons and their petty problems. I never share anything personal, just the customary responses to the alcohol loosening their tongues.

  An hour before closing I’m wiping down the bar. It’s still fairly full, a few chairs here and there open, but generally I’m still busy. Christina passes behind me, playfully grabbing my ass. She whispers close to my ear, “Hey, Rookie, the couple on the end requested that you serve them.”

  I frown in the direction she points and my heart stops. The past has found me. Red sits there. I’m not sure whether I should run to her or away. All the things from that night come back like it just happened. As if I’m sitting there on the damp ground again, waiting. When she glances toward me, the breath hitches in my chest, causing my stopped heart to speed up. Her pink lips turn up in a smile as our eyes meet. It’s as if she’s caught me in her stare. I want to return her smile but confusion forms in my mind as Christina’s words play back in my head, the couple at the end wants you to serve them. I search for someone else, a different couple, but she continues to stare at me. A hand squeezes my arm and Christina’s voice brings me out of the trance.

  “Hey there, you okay?”

  I look away then down at Christina. She’s concerned and the last thing I want to do is explain.

  “Um, yeah, I’m good.”

  I look back at the redhead and my breath leaves in a rush. She’s looking at another figure sliding onto the bar stool beside her. His long dark hair is combed to the side covering his forehead and part of his face but I know who it is. He’s filled out a little. His arms are bulkier than the last time I saw him on the night of the accident. Red is speaking to him, a smile permanently on her lips. Christina’s hand is still on my arm. She squeezes again and leans into me. Her hand darts up and turns my face to meet her now worried gaze. “Grey, you look like you just saw a ghost, do you need a break? Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m - I’m still good.”

  I take a deep breath and move out of her grasp. The walk down the bar seems to take forever. My heart beats double time as I think about what I should say. Anger pulses through me mixed with sadness. As I near the edge of the counter the man looks up. A huge sloppy grin crosses his face as he recognizes me. He holds his hand out in a brotherly shake. “Greylan, it’s been too long, buddy.”

  Reflexively I hold my own hand out and reply, “Meyer, yeah, too long.”

  Mixed emotions tumble over one another as I look at my old childhood friend. We’ve known each other for most of our lives. We climbed trees together and fished in the pond. In high school we even went after the same girl to take to the prom, but standing here facing my oldest friend, none of our past seems to matter. I haven’t seen him in over five years and it drills into me that I really don’t know this person. Meyer is a stranger, someone I know nothing about anymore. The blood runs through my veins, heating my body up. My fists clench unconsciously at the words that were never spoken between us after the accident. I stand a moment, staring into Meyer’s guiltless expression, and wonder how he could ever show his face around here again.

  A smooth crisp voice brings me out of my thoughts. “Hi, Greylan. It’s nice to see you again. I’m Mollie.”

  Inwardly I’m struggling with Meyer being here but as soon as my face shifts to look at Red, who I think about often, every other thought flees from my mind. My breathing shallows - not from anger but because I forgot how fucking beautiful she is. I hold her flawless hand within my large palm, the warmth surging through my skin. A pink blush surfaces in her cheeks before she looks away shyly. I remember the first time I saw her in the parking lot after my fight. The same blush colored her cheeks that night.

  Meyer’s voice diverts my attention. “Hey bro, aren’t you gonna ask why we’re here?”

  A snide remark is on the tip of my tongue but a hand encircles my arm from behind before I can say anything. I want to tell Meyer exactly where he can go but I’m afraid the bar would lose half its light if the angel beside him left. Christina’s cool voice draws me out of my thoughts.

  “Hey, I’m Christina; I’m guessing you know our Greylan here.”

  Meyer looks from Christina and back to me before a snide smile spreads. He laughs. “Yeah, you could say that. It’s nice to meet you, Christina. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  I frown at his remark, realizing that Meyer thinks I’m with Christina. My brow furrows as I glance at Mollie. She looks intently at Christina the whole time, a slight glare forming in the corners of her eyes. I like seeing it there.

  Christina pours them both a short glass of whiskey. She looks at me but I don’t move my gaze from Meyer. I’m pissed because his attitude hasn’t changed. He still acts as if everything is a game. Nothing bad can ever happen. I know more than anyone that life is anything but a game. I glare at my old friend, having no patience for him.

  Christina never misses a beat. “You were about to tell us why you’re here, bro.” Her sarcastic tone spits out the words as if they taste bad. She raises her glass and places another in my hand. I lift it in a long draw before a toast can be made.

  Meyer dismisses her meaning, taking a sip of his own drink. “I like this one, Grey.”

  I wince at my nickname coming from Meyer.

  Meyer looks at Red and places his arm around the back of her chair. The expression on her face is a myriad of emotions. She seems sad but strong, as if she would put up a fierce fight if needed. I notice that she leans slightly away as Meyer moves closer. He looks back at me as he explains, “We came to see you fight, dude. I heard you are on your way back up. Just here to support an old friend.”

  My eyes narrow to a glare in response, not really trusting him. I look back at Red as she lifts the glass of golden liquid to her lips. She swallows slowly and I feel my own reaction to that small movement in places I shouldn’t. Thoughts about this woman in that way shouldn’t even cross my mind at this point. I look past her, hoping the tightness in my pants goes away, but I know as long as I’m in her presence, that’s the last thing that will happen.

  Meyer’s pitchy voice is starting to annoy me. “Anyway, we’re staying down the road at the Breaker. I guess we’ll see you tomorrow. Fight’s at seven, right?”

  My hand tightens on the glass as I swallow the remaining contents. Meyer’s hand gently grabs Mollie’s arm and encourages her out of the chair. She stands, looking up to meet my gaze. A tilt in my lip forms at how petite and perfect she is. She slowly moves her arm from Meyer’s grasp and states, “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Greylan. I’m looking forward to seeing your fight tomorrow.”

  She nods to Christina. I can see the scowl across Christina’s face out of the corner of my eye. As soon as the door closes behind them, Christina loses it. “What the hell, Grey? I think there might be some things you never shared with me. The air in this place was so thick, I could have cut it with a knife.”

  A patron on the other end of the bar calls out to Christina, trying to get her attention. She turns to me before walking the length. “We aren’t finished with this. Don’t go
anywhere tonight, we need to talk.”

  More than anything, I have the urge to leave, to lose myself at Jackson’s. To find the repetitive push of my muscles and forget, but Jax doesn’t keep the gym open at night and a drink might be more effective in helping me forget the memories before they surface. Seeing Meyer hammers home how the past is never out of reach, it’s always just a few steps behind. As much as I try to outrun everything, it always catches up.

  I pour another drink and slam it back, hoping the warmth that spreads down my throat has the desired affect and takes all this shit away.

  After the last customer leaves, Christina locks the door and starts in on me. “Please be truthful with me, Grey. I can see how affected you were by that couple. Tell me why they’re here and why you’re upset.”

  I shake my head, sinking into a chair at the bar as Christina rounds the counter, setting two glasses on the smooth wood. She fills each with ice and pours a generous amount of whiskey into them. Urgently I lift mine and down the entire contents. She fills the glass a second time. I throw that one back before admitting, “That was Meyer Hansen, my old childhood friend.”

  “Call me crazy but I didn’t really feel any friend vibes from that encounter.”

  I smile and gesture to the empty glass. She pours again before downing her own drink.

  “Christina, the night I killed that man, it was Mollie, that woman here with Meyer, the guy was forcing himself on her.”

  Christina frowns as she listens to my explanation.

  “I’m not exactly following you. Where was Meyer? Why didn’t he keep track of her if she was his girl?”

  Resting my head in my hands, I shrug. “I don’t know what was going through his head that night. He never showed up at the police station. He apologized over and over for not being around when it happened in a letter six months later but I didn’t bother replying to ask him where he’d been. It didn’t matter. That night was the last time I saw him or talked to him until tonight.”