As I finally reach for the handle, the door swings out to reveal Meyer with a shitty grin across his face. That’s all I needed. My body lurches forward with a fist swinging into Meyer’s stomach. Meyer doubles over, bracing himself on his knees from the hit. He states, “I definitely deserved that.” He looks back up. “Are you finished?”
I’m so mad I can barely see straight. I’m pissed that Meyer made me come back here. Broken, that the one woman that has ever affected me, is here with this douche bag. I shake my head in response and grab Meyer’s arm, pulling him through the doorway. He doesn’t protest. I want to spit in his face. I clench my fists instead, itching to hit him again. He juts his chin out and exclaims, pointing to the side, “Here, Grey, right here - it’ll make you feel better.”
My feet step back, a moment of uncertainty passing through my mind. I shake my head while Meyer taunts with slurred speech, “Right here, just hit me, right here. I deserve it.”
My eyes narrow in a glare as my hand clenches again and I push it into Meyer’s face. This time he falls to his knees, coughing through the blood running out of his nose. He laughs, “You’ve got some right hook. Feel better now?”
I turn to go back to the truck but Meyer calls out from his perch on the ground, “Wait, Grey, don’t go. I know I was wrong. Please, let me try and make it up to you.”
My feet halt as I begin cursing him. “Fuck, Meyer.”
“I know, I’m a fuck up. Just give me one more chance, Grey. I think I might be able to make things better. I know I can make things better.”
My body spins back and I stare at his hovering figure. I force my legs forward to help him to his feet. He releases a stifled laugh, his breath still coming out broken with blood seeping into his mouth. “I knew you’d give me a chance. You’re too good, Grey.”
I shake my head, turning both of us towards the bar. I take a deep breath, preparing for whatever emotions will hit me once we enter that door. My grip on Meyer’s arm tightens but he doesn’t seem to notice.
As we enter, dull lighting greets us. I look around, noting nothing on the inside has changed. Brutus calls out from behind the bar, “Well, if it ain’t Greylan Pace. ‘Bout time you showed your face around here.”
Instead of dread, as I had expected, warmth spreads through me at the familiarity of the bar. I forgot how much Brutus was a part of my past. The big man skirts around the bar and grabs me in a bear hug. He’s always been bigger than me but I notice Brutus’ gut has grown over the years. When we part, I tell him, “Glad to see you still standing.”
Brutis brushes it off. “Shit, boy, did you learn nothing growing up round here? I’m gonna be buried in this here spot just to make sure this place stands for another hundred years. They ain’t gonna be able to get rid of me even after I’m dead and in the ground.”
A chuckle leaves as I angle for a stool beside Meyer. He’s holding a rag full of blood up to his nose. This makes me smile. Serves him right.
Meyer looks at the smirk on my face. “So did you go for my nose because you felt lonely having the only swollen beak around? Why couldn’t you just go for my jaw like I told you to?”
I ignore him and grab the whiskey Brutus has placed in front of me. I hold it up, considering a toast. “To…” Meyer holds his own glass up in anticipation, wide eyed. I shake my head once again. “Damn, I can’t think of anything. Maybe to shitty friends.” I tip the glass back and down the contents, slamming it back against the smooth wood for a refill.
Meyer drinks his own, all smugness gone. He looks down to the bar and up at Brutus. He speaks to no one in particular. “I remember when we used to come here after school, our junior year. We tried to get Brutus to serve us. Every day we were sure he would break but he stuck to his guns. Remember, Grey?”
Brutus eyes both of us, responding, “Yeah, and look at both of you now. If I would have contributed to this back then, just think, you might be sittin’ round here with black eyes and missing teeth in addition to your broken noses.”
My voice is quiet when I respond, “They’re not broken, just swollen.”
Brutus leans across the bar and pours more whiskey into my glass while meeting my stare. “Grey, you need to figure things out. You’ve been through a ton of shit in your life. No one would wish that on anyone, but now you have a chance. Don’t mess it up, you’ll never forgive yourself.”
I look away, unable to face him. I can’t forgive myself for so many things. Fighting - pro fighting - I can’t lose that, too. Brutus is right, I’d lose my sanity if I didn’t have fighting.
Meyer says nonchalantly, “Can we get down to business, or do you want to beat my ass some more?”
I frown, swinging my gaze to the idiot. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Dude, I can get you the top fights. That’s really why I’m here. I couldn’t tell you last night because you weren’t pro yet. But now, the sky’s the limit.”
My thoughts are suddenly all over the place. Meyer in the fighting business? How did I miss this?
Meyer continues, “I work for some higher ups. I can get you some top fights if you agree to go along with what I say.”
This pisses me off. I shift in the seat to get a good look at him. His face is a mess. Besides his nose swollen to twice its size, his eyes are surrounded with deep grey indents. The guy really hasn’t been to bed yet.
“Okay, Meyer, I’ll bite. What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You always did have a way with words, Grey. I’m talking big fights, Parker Harris fights.”
My face cringes at the name spewed from his mouth. I know Parker is the top of my weight class. If I face my sister’s fiancé and win, I am the top. But Trinity’s sweet face pops into my head. If I take the road all the way up, what will happen to my relationship with her? Will she hate me for knocking Parker off his pedestal?
“Yo, Grey, you there?”
I look at Meyer. He muses, “Thought I lost ya there for a minute. You know you can’t go straight for Harris right away, don’t you? Of course you do. You have to make the climb, but I can make it happen sooner than it would if you just keep on with Jackson’s match ups.”
“How do you know I’m training with Jackson?” My voice is angry.
Meyer laughs. “Dude, that’s my job. I know more than you think.”
I’m tired of Meyer’s bullshit. I get up from the stool and thank Brutus, turning to go. Meyer’s hand on my arm causes me to stop. He asks, “Will you just think about it? Jackson thinks it’s good if you pair up with me.”
“I’ll think about it,” comes out under my breath.
As I walk to the door, the past seems to slowly creep back up on me, the door opens to a pissed off Red. She immediately spots Meyer leaning against the bar holding an ice pack to his nose. She looks at me a few feet away and lashes out to strike me with her clenched fist. “What did you do?”
I catch her wrist in my hand. The grip tightens as I savor the touch of her skin. I smile at her feistiness before shaking my head, looking at Meyer and back into her confused gaze. “Nothing, he’s all yours. I found him for you.”
My hand releases her arm and I strut out the door. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until the sun shines in my face, causing moisture to form on my brow. My breath comes out shallow for the past that just snuck up on me and the woman I just turned my back on against every cell in my being.
Chapter 18
Jackson finds me sparring with another fighter, Jonesy, of all the kids I could have picked. Jonesy’s voice echoes through the gym, “All right, Grey, yeah. Just like that. Hit it dead on. Mix it up.”
He chuckles at the wall and I turn in response. He says, “Jonesy was the first fighter you beat in a spar and here he is cheering you on, probably your biggest fan now.”
Jonesy exclaims, “I don’t know about all that but the dude has some skills.”
I begin hitting on the kid again.
Jackson steps up to the mat and calls out, “Jones
y, give me the mitts. Grey is holding back.”
My hands stop and I stare at Jackson as he steps onto the matt. He walks past Jonesy, swiping the pads from his grasp. He faces me, glaring. “You need to get it together, Pace. This holding back shit won’t fly in Vegas.”
I’m about to protest but Jackson’s words sink in, causing panic. I’m sure the look on my face says it all.
“Yeah, Vegas. Big time, but you already knew that.” Jackson pulls the toothpick from his mouth.
I shake my head, trying to displace the thoughts and start moving with successive punches, each move meeting one of Jackson’s palms.
“Come on, Pace, give it all you got.” Jackson pants out as I continue hammering his hands. “I don’t know what it’ll take to get you to put yourself into it. Figure it out, I feel like a fuckin’ broken record.”
My body pushes forward. A picture forms of Meyer with his arm around Mollie. I force the air out and speed up the punching. My leg sails up, kicking into the mitt.
“That’s it, Pace, whatever you’re doing, keep going.”
I wince as the imaginary Meyer leans in to kiss Mollie. My hand comes up in a rounded punch, striking Jackson’s side. He doubles over, causing me to come back from my thoughts. I rush to Jackson’s side, grabbing his back to hold his weight.
“I’m sorry, Jax. I was in the moment. Shit, sorry.”
He chuckles, straightening out to his full height, shaking it off. “I knew it was in there somewhere. Whatever just caused you to do that, keep at it.”
I slip the gloves off and look at the floor, angling for the locker room, pissed that I’m letting her get to me where I usually feel most at peace. Jackson calls after me, “Meyer set things up. Your first fight is two weeks away in Vegas.”
My body continues on. Whatever Jackson has gotten into with Meyer, I know it can’t be good. He was too sketchy at the bar today. Given he had probably been drinking all night, but he still didn’t want to give up too much information, which raises tons of red flags. First the constant push of Parker, and now Meyer. My anger grows but I know I’m done fighting for the day. It won’t help this shitty mood.
After a quick shower I head straight to Juno’s, glad for the distraction. Christina will help keep my mind off things, namely the off limits girl that haunts my waking minutes.
When I enter through the back door, a crackly voice calls, “Grey, is that you? Come see me in the office.”
My shoulders seem to sink further at Juno’s voice beckoning me to her office. What do they all want from me? I thought winning last night would change things. Maybe the direction everything is going isn’t in my favor. As I round the corner to the small four by four room, two voices start lip synching way off key to “Undefeated” by Daughtry. Christina holds a round two-tiered cake in her arms. The blue lettering across the top displays the words. “Congratulations, Champ.” I smile as I take the cake from her grasp and place it on the desk. Then I pull Christina and Juno into my arms, squeezing them “Thank you, I really needed this.”
Christina kisses my cheek and grabs a pen off the desk, shoving it under my mouth as a makeshift microphone, encouraging me to sing with her. I shake my head but she insists on getting me to sing a few lines. Juno covers her ears as we belt out the lyrics. Finally as the song ends, Juno tells us with a smile, “Okay, enough playing around. Get to work, you two.”
I follow Christina to the bar, the cake in her arms. She calls back, “It’s celebratin’ time. No tellin’ Juno, though.” She cuts each of us a piece of the cake and pours whiskey into two glasses. Pulling them both off the bar, she places one in my hand and holds her glass up, exclaiming, “To the new and upcoming MMA champ, Greylan Pace—may you beat all their asses.”
I laugh at her toast and hold my glass up before swallowing the contents in one gulp. After our little party, I put all of my concentration on getting the bar ready. Not many words are exchanged between us besides the usual insult here and there. I know Christina is concerned about Meyer being around, especially after I didn’t exactly share a lot of information with her. I think about telling her that I went to Brutus’ earlier in the day, but then I’d have to admit that Mollie got to me, and I’m having a hard enough time admitting that to myself.
The usual crowd gathers at the bar. We tag team the whole night, making sure everyone is nice and happy. An hour before closing I’m stocking the cooler under the bar. I’m almost finished when I look up to that face. Red is sitting in front of me, amused obviously, that I didn’t notice her come in. I decide to keep it completely official, bartender and customer. I have no claim on her, and after today she probably hates me.
I nod and look back to what I’m doing. Once it’s finished, I direct my attention back to her and ask coolly, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Um, what are you drinking?” Her smooth words make me want to smile but I can’t.
“I’m not. I’m working.” I remember her calling me an ass earlier. This abrupt response can’t help my case but I refuse to try. That would mean I care and I can’t afford that right now. I told Christina when we met that I didn’t want any kind of a relationship. That fact is more real now than ever after last night’s fight. I’m going to Vegas in two weeks for my first professional fight. I can’t fuck it up.
She glares and seems to consider responding with a comment but instead asks, “Can I just get a whiskey?”
I turn, grabbing two glasses and the bottle, knowing I just contradicted my own thoughts. As I pour the golden liquid into both glasses, she asks, “I thought you were working.”
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I won’t join you in a drink.”
She shakes her head, then a quirk at the edge of her lip appears. “Do you know how infuriating you are?”
“I’ve probably been told that once or twice.” And there it is. I know I just crossed the line but can’t help myself. The words flow so easy with her.
As she lifts her glass, I notice her perfect red lips turn up in a smile. She sips the liquid daintily. I shake my head and tilt the glass back roughly, placing it back on the bar. Her brows go up in surprise. She lifts her glass again, this time swallowing the contents at once. She slams it back down in front of me, wincing as the liquid goes down. As I fill both glasses again she says, “Thanks for finding Meyer today. I guess I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” I push her glass forward. This time she lifts it into the air, encouraging me with a pointed look to do the same. As I raise mine she states, “To Greylan Pace, the champ!” A few of the other patrons down the bar salute and drink as we flip our own drinks back. As I’m placing the glass back onto the counter, Christina walks up. She eyes Mollie and looks up at me. I avert my eyes. She knows me well enough now to see how this woman affects me. She looks back at Red and asks, “Where’s Meyer?”
Mollie swirls her finger around the rim of her newly filled glass. “Ahhh, Meyer. He had a rather trying day with getting punched in the nose and everything. He decided to catch up on some beauty sleep.”
Christina looks over at me. I’ve managed to inch my way further down the bar. She asks Mollie while looking at me, “I don’t suppose our champ here had anything to do with that, did he?”
Mollie answers animatedly, “Oh yes. I think they both thought they’d set each other straight but I’m sure you can guess who had the upper hand.”
Christina shakes her head and grabs my arm. She pulls me out of earshot across the expanse behind the counter and whines, “Why didn’t you tell me you saw them today? Is Meyer okay? Did you do some real damage? You know how I feel about the prick, he probably deserved it.” I move away, determined not to reveal anything, but she grabs my arm again and whispers, “I have a bad feeling about her.”
I meet her stare. “She’s with Meyer, no worries.”
“I’m not talking about that. I think you have a lot to be worried about.”
I move toward Red, ensnared in her trance again, ignoring Christ
ina’s double meaning. I know she’s with Meyer and that should be enough to deter me but my body betrays me. I close the distance, quickly needing to be near her. How can one woman affect me this much?
“So, Grey, Champ, how many nicknames do you have?” she asks warmly.
“That’s it. You can call me Greylan, though.” My lip lifts.
She smiles. Her head tilts back allowing the amber liquid to slide into her lush mouth. My body awakens at her movements. I need to get myself under control or this woman is going to be the death of me. Over and over in my head the words repeat, fighting is the most important thing, fighting is the most important thing. Whatever she’s doing to me, I want to peel it away as if it’s another layer of skin, and leave it behind. But as with many of the things that haunt me, Red, Meyer’s Mollie, is something I don’t think I’ll be able to get rid of so easily.
Chapter 19
As the bar is closing, Red stands, glancing at her watch. She and one other couple are the last of our customers. I have tried to keep a safe distance but I repeatedly found myself drawn to her over the past hour. I watch, trying to gauge how drunk she is and if I need to help her to the hotel. The last thing I want is to be alone with her. I’m not sure I would be able to keep my hands off her. She looks up as if deep in thought. The green in her eyes seems to glow in the light. I’m sure she’s feeling pretty good. She had quite a bit to drink
As I near her I ask, “Mollie, do you want me to help you back to your hotel?”
As the question leaves my lips, I hope she tells me no but I know I’ll do it anyway.
Her question takes me by surprise. “Greylan, do you think that’s a good idea?” She stresses my full name, which makes me want her to say yes. I’m so fucked up.
I shake my head at how shitty this is. I want her more than I’ve wanted any other woman. I can only imagine how it would feel to have her under me as I explore every curve and line of her perfect body. I look down at her full breasts peeking out of the soft, pink v-neck sweater she’s wearing. She laughs, causing me to glance away uncomfortably, meeting Christina’s stare. Caught by both of them, fuck!
No Regrets (No Regrets #1) Page 13