“I’m sorry, they checked out a few hours ago.”
“Thank you, Danielle. I appreciate it.” I start to turn but she calls out to me. “Um, wait. You’re that fighter, aren’t you?”
A frown creases my face as I move back over to the counter. “What do you mean? How do you know who I am?”
“It’s all over the news. They said you were in prison for killing a man and now you’re going to fight in Vegas. It’s like your second chance or something.”
I run a hand through my hair. How did I not know that my face has been all over the news? Then it hits me, I’ve been so concerned with Mollie that there was never a chance for me to notice. The TVs at the bar though….then I silently answer my own question. They’re all turned to football, all the time. Christina probably did that on purpose.
She puts her hand up on the counter and slides something toward me. I grab it and meet her enamored stare curiously.
“It’s a note that was left. That is your name, isn’t it?” I look down at the scripted writing. A knot forms in my stomach. I nod and turn to walk out of the hotel. The paper crumples in my palm as I debate whether to read it or not.
Hesitating a moment in the middle of the lobby, I make a decision and move toward the bar situated in a wide room on the other side of the expansive entrance. Maybe a drink will do me some good after all. As I sit down and order a drink, I spread the note out and carefully press it into the bar, smoothing out the wrinkles. The first thing that strikes me is her slanted handwriting that fits her perfectly. Not girly but not masculine, strong script which matches her independent personality. I read it twice, just to make sure I get exactly what is written before me.
Greylan,
You are an amazing person.
Always remember that and go after what is rightfully yours.
Red
I frown as the words start to blur together. My head rests in my palms, more confused than ever. A few beats of my heart have the blood rushing in my ears. My hands itch to punch something. A day without going to the gym isn’t good. I have too much pent up energy that I need to get rid of. After paying the bill, I carefully fold the note and slide it into my pocket. As I step out onto the side walk, I palm my phone to dial Meyer. It rings with no answer. Finally a robotic voicemail message sounds; I leave a message for Meyer to call when he has a chance.
Aiming back toward Juno’s, I realize I might have had more to drink than was necessary. As I near Juno’s, the lights are still shining onto the walk out front. Dammit, Christina, she’s still fucking drinking. As I round the building to look through the window, I spot Juno sitting at the bar by herself.
I knock on the glass. She crosses the room to open the door. Her brows rise as I walk into the warm room.
“Grey, what are you doing back here?”
I don’t answer right away. Instead I walk behind the bar and grab a bottle, forgoing a glass, and slide into the chair beside her. She lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag as she slides back into the chair.
“I’ve been…I don’t know, Juno. I’ve been a mess.”
She smirks. “You can say that again.”
I take a long draw from the bottle before admitting, “This fight in a couple of weeks, I’ve wanted it my whole life. Twenty-eight years I’ve wanted this.”
She nods encouragingly.
“Why, in just one night, can I want something else so much more?”
She laughs a rough belly laugh.
“This is about a woman, isn’t it?”
I don’t answer but my head bows.
“The pretty redhead that was here the other night?”
I nod, taking a sip, determined to drown her face from my memory. I know it won’t work but I can try.
“Grey, I don’t have any words for you. I’ve had my share of friends, but this here is my love.” She pats the bar affectionately.
“I will tell you that I’ve heard it happens like that, though. One minute you’re minding your own business and love comes along, sweeping you up in its grasp, and you don’t know which direction is up or down.”
I shake my head in disagreement. “I don’t love her. I just fucking met the woman.”
She frowns at my choice of language.
“Sorry.”
“Greylan, why are you here drinking with an old lady? Where is the girl? I’m sure she’s much better company.”
“She left.”
“So you drown your sorrows with this shit.” She grabs the bottle and moves to put it back behind the bar. I look at her, wondering where the double standard came about.
“You go home to bed and look at things in the morning. They might seem different. Oh and you owe me a brand new bottle of Jack.”
She grabs the phone behind the bar and calls for a cab as she holds her hand out to me. I roll my eyes and place the keys to the truck in her palm. My head falls onto my folded arms. Bed sounds good.
***
I push the screen door, frowning as my step falters out into the damp alley. A rotten smell rises up from the dumpster on one end. I take another step, halting my foot as a scream rings through the night. My eyes narrow into a squint, trying to see through the dark. The two figures are obscured in the shadows. A scream calls out again, this time I hear Mollie’s voice yell my name. I cross the space in three long strides, pull the man away from her, and force my fist into his head as hard as I can. The sound of his skull hitting the brick wall is music to my ears. Blood splatters across my cheek and Mollie’s neck. But when I look down at her it’s not her face looking up at me. It’s Christina in shock. I look at my hand splattered in red and down to the ground where the lifeless body lays. My body starts thrashing in bed. I wake up to nausea moving through my stomach. I hurry to the bathroom and lean over the toilet to empty the contents of my stomach.
Back in the bedroom I check the time but it’s still too early to go to the gym. I sink back into the mattress, a whiff of Mollie from the other day filling my nostrils. Closing my eyes, I try not to think about the dream but it returns. My fucked up head has now put Christina into the nightmare. Drifting back to sleep, I picture Mollie’s face the day she found me at the pond. I knew Meyer told her where I might be but she made the effort. She searched me out. That means something, doesn’t it?
A few hours later I wake to the sun shining straight into my face. I roll over, relieved the nightmare didn’t come back. But when I drag myself out of bed I realize going to see someone might be a good idea. It’s getting bad if I’m picturing Christina in the dream.
***
The gym is busy when I arrive and Jackson seems to be waiting for something. When he spots me he beckons me over to the roped off section where two other fighters are sparring with each other. He glances over and back to the mat. “You look like hell.”
I smirk at my trainer’s words. “I feel like hell.”
“Good, I don’t want no pussy ass reasons why you missed yesterday.”
“I know…”
Jackson holds up his hand. “I don’t need any shit excuses. Just get dressed and be out here in five. I have a special treat today.” His smile spreads revealing the two golden teeth fastened in his mouth.
When I near the ring, dressed in board shorts and a tank top, a man I don’t recognize is dancing around the mat, punching empty air. My body rests against the ropes next to Jackson. I watch the man for a moment before asking, “This is my surprise?”
“Yep.”
“Are you gonna tell me who he is?”
“Yep, Jesus Reyes.”
I can’t stop the shock mingled with a slight chuckle that escapes my mouth. I look over, surprised, but Jackson doesn’t respond. Okay, if you want to play that shit game.
My legs lower, allowing me to slink through the ropes. I begin warming up, bouncing on the balls of my feet, throwing hits and kicks at the air. As my heart pumps faster, I slow to a halt so that I’m face to face with the man I know very little about. We bump gloves an
d retreat a few feet, eyeing one another. As I round the mat with the guy, my eyes catch his movements, trying to commit them to memory. This is the only person that has beaten Parker Harris. I’m all over that because I’ll be the next one to accomplish it.
We bob around each other a few times before Jesus closes the distance with his hands grasping my arms. I try to shake out of it but he’s holding too tight. Instead I take a chance throwing myself forward, hoping it will cause him to lose his footing. He’s a rock and doesn’t budge. Jackson yells, “Come on, Grey, that’s all you got? I thought we were past this shit.”
My gaze meets that of my opponent. He smiles as his arms move rapidly from my outer arms to under my shoulders just as his foot sweeps mine out from under me. He leans his full weight toward my body once I’m on the floor but my legs lock around his abdomen. His smile disappears as he realizes I have him in my guard to halt his progress. Jesus lands a punch to my gut, loosening the grip around his waist. He moves his hands under my backside, flipping me to the side. My legs come apart, allowing him to land in a side hold. I realize at this point what I’m really up against. I try to turn my body and attempt an elbow to his side but he comes down on me, taking my neck in a guillotine hold. I relax all of my muscles and tap out.
Jesus pops up, looking over at Jackson. Jackson glares at me. “Again.” His voice comes out forcefully. “Until Grey decides he’s gonna take it seriously.” As we grapple again, Jackson taunts, “You want to lose your first fight on the pro circuit, then keep fighting like a pussy. I can’t believe I agreed to take your ass on. I should send you back to Carlo, maybe in a body bag, ‘cause you’re worthless.”
He continues like this all afternoon as I get my ass beat over and over. Finally, on our fifth match, I’m not sure I should even bother any further. My head isn’t in it and it’s doing nothing but frustrating all of us. We meet in an arm lock once again but this time Jesus leans in, his accented breath barely a whisper, “I’ve seen that shithead with your sister. You really gonna let him marry her?”
This seems to wake me up. I think about Parker and how he upset Trinity yesterday. Fucking hell.
I move swiftly out of Jesus’ grasp and lean down, sweeping his legs out from under him. Jesus lands on his side but scurries away before I can mount him. My leg comes up, kicking his side. He crosses the mat, a determined look in his eyes. It turns to a snide smile and I force my arm into his gut continuously. He leans in, tackling me to the mat. I move around behind Jesus and hold him in a rear naked choke hold. A loud tap vibrates through the mat, signaling me as the winner. I release as he sits up, laughing. He looks over at Jackson a moment later. “Parker Harris is his spot.”
“Shit, I coulda told you that. The question is, how are we gonna use it to beat his ass?”
My body collapses onto the mat. I cross my legs, savoring every ache alight in my muscles. This is my life. I remind myself of that fact over and over. There’s no time for anything else. Today was evidence of that.
Chapter 23
A week later I haven’t heard a word from Meyer and Mollie is a wishful, distant memory. But who am I kidding? She finds me while I’m awake and asleep, leaving me with regret, the one thing I vowed never to do.
I move through the usual routine. I haven’t had a bit to drink since that night with Juno and today is D-day as far as I’m concerned, my monthly meeting with one of the manliest women I’ve ever met, Jane Mason, my parole officer. Up until this point she’s been fine with my fighting as long as I kept her apprised of my progress. Today, however, is the day I ask to leave New Jersey to fight in Vegas. Her decision could stop me in my tracks or allow my life to move forward. It pisses me off that she gets the final word but there’s nothing I can do about it.
A loud knock on the door alerts me that Jackson is waiting outside. I walk to the truck and take a deep breath as Jackson steers to the depressing office. Every month she’s given me shit for nothing. I’ve done everything she’s asked and never rescheduled an appointment. This is what pisses her off I guess, she’s used to people breaking the law and screwing up. A couple of visits prior to this one she stated as I sat down, “You know you’ll do it sooner or later.”
I looked up. “Do what?”
“You’ll mess up.”
I didn’t gratify her with an answer. My original first impression still rings true; she’s a miserable human being who hates her job. But I still have every intention on proving her theory wrong.
Jackson brings me out of my thoughts. “Let me do the talking today, okay Pace?”
“Okay.” I won’t argue. Jackson went with me once to see Jane. She visibly liked him better. I can’t imagine her reasoning, after all he’s a large black man with tattoos and gold teeth, but it doesn’t matter. Jackson’s a good guy. He took me in when it mattered and I’ll always be thankful.
As we make our way back into the filthy office, Jane stands at the sight of Jackson. A smile spreads. Maybe she has a crush on him.
Jackson shakes her hand over the desk that never sees the light of day before settling in next to me. He hands some papers over to her and watches while she analyzes them. It peeves me that Jackson has kept me in the dark on the fight deals. I think I should be involved in the decisions being made on my behalf. Jackson, however, gave two very good reasons why he wasn’t involving me. The first is dealing with Meyer, who’s the front man right now in match-ups. Who the hell knows how he landed that gig, but I’m glad not to have to deal with his ass. The other reason is just Jackson’s track record so far. He hasn’t steered me wrong yet, so I’ve left it alone. Today, however, will decide how much I involve myself further.
Jane looks up from the paperwork. “Everything seems to be in order.”
Jackson nods, still eyeing her.
“If you need to extend the trip, I need a call directly to my office. Do not leave a message. Get hold of a person. Understand?”
Jackson looks at me and nods. “We can handle that.”
She squints my way and states, “You got lucky, Pace. This guy here, he’s good people. Don’t let him down.”
My lip quirks. That’s probably the nicest thing she’s said to me. The only thing she ever will, most likely. I know she still thinks I’m some punk but I couldn’t care less. Dealing with her once a month is nothing, just as I told my sister on the very first visit.
As we leave the office, Jackson slaps my hand in a high five. He explains, “You just gotta have the magic touch.”
“Jax, you can have all the magic touch you want with that chick but I don’t think it’ll help.”
Jackson laughs as he climbs into the truck. On the way back to the apartment I tell him, “Thanks for yesterday. It meant a lot to have at Jesus Reyes.”
“You’re welcome. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
My breath escapes me. It’s a good thing, though. I need to study the guy’s moves and see what makes him tick, find his weakness.
“By the way, Grey, did you ever make an appointment?”
I wince and let the silence spread.
“That’s what I thought.”
He passes a card over to me. “I took the liberty. Be at that address at four o’clock this afternoon.”
Turning the card over in my hands, I nod. I went through counseling, probably too much, in prison. It helped with the nightmares, though. They still came but not as often. This week has been a doozy. The first night that Christina appeared in the dream was only the beginning. My fucked up mind conjures up all kinds of ways to torment me.
Once in the apartment, I pull my phone out, deciding to make someone’s day. I press an unused number and wait as it rings. A woman’s voice answers, smacking gum as usual. I wince, picturing the plump girl that came on to me the last time I was at Jimmy’s office.
“Can I speak to James Turner?”
“Um, who can I tell him is calling?”
Maybe her phone skills are improving.
“It’s Greylan Pace.”
I can hear shuffling and then Jimmy’s voice telling her, “Daphne, you didn’t have to yell across the office. What if I would have had a client?”
She chuckles. “Yeah, right. We haven’t had a new client in months, and you told me if he ever calls to get you right away.”
I can hear Jimmy cursing. “Can I trust you to patch it through to my office? Don’t mess it up.”
A moment later, Jimmy’s voice beams over the line. “Greylan. Hey buddy, how are you?”
“Hi, Jimmy. Are you ready to work yet?”
I can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “You know it.”
“Good, because before I sign any contract with you, I want to know all about the Jesus Reyes business.”
He seems to mull his response over before he explains, “Grey, there really isn’t much to tell.”
I won’t let him get any further. “Listen, Jimmy, I need someone looking out for me in the upcoming deals. Someone who will represent what I want. If you can’t come clean about Jesus Reyes and tell me the truth, then you aren’t the guy for me. I know we have history but sometimes moving on is the best thing.”
I know exactly how Jimmy will respond. He’ll want to tell me every gory detail just to land me as a client. I know that Jimmy isn’t the most honest person but he will keep my best interests in mind. I can’t trust Meyer with that task, and with Jackson, the jury is still out. I trust my trainer, but only as a trainer. I’m not sure of his abilities to cut deals.
“Okay, Grey, but not over the phone.”
“That’s fair. How about we meet over at Juno’s at eleven tonight? I’m out of there early.”
“You betcha.”
After we hang up I head to the gym. My memory of Mollie, only a week old, is still so raw. It pisses me off that she felt she had to leave. I can’t figure out why. The note she left me has been opened and folded so many times that I could quote every word.
No Regrets (No Regrets #1) Page 16