Finding Redemption

by Emilia Finn

  My pulse jumps roughly in my throat. “You’re not one to beat around the bush, huh?”

  Casey removes her hand from my arm and I feel the cold invade the now lonely skin. She shrugs again, “No point bullshitting. I’m sure you’re dynamite in the sack, Jon Hart, but I can’t afford you.”

  Casey turns on her heel and grabs my hand again, as comfortable as if we’d known each other our whole lives. She leads us towards then past a chuckling Mike, then back inside the too noisy club with the too smelly patrons; perfume, sweat and beer intermingling and almost choking me after being alone with Casey’s unique scent for a few minutes.

  I follow her back to the bar then as she steps onto the metal footrest at the bottom of the stool, I realize she’s going to climb over again, so I stop her with a tug on her hand, bringing her confused body back to mine and I swing her up into the cradle of my arms. I easily lift her across the bar, then I perch her ass on the far edge and she slides to her feet.

  “Thanks for the company, Jon. I’ll grab you another beer.” She takes another glass even as she speaks and putting it under the spout, she pulls the lever. “This is on me, because you just gave me the best date I’ve had in… well, ever. And I didn’t even have to put out,” she laughs softly and shakes her head.

  That was her best date ever? That’s rough.

  I sit at the bar for the next hour, watching her work, watching the patrons, men and women alike flirt with her. I watch the way she bats her lashes at them the same way she did to me when she was teasing me, and I frown at the unleashed laughter she gifts some with.

  I hang around even when I spot Bobby lead his girl off the floor, then I shake my head at missed opportunities when he walks her out of the club without saying goodbye to the rest of us.

  He’s taking her home, and he’s ensuring I have a contract on my head in the form of a tiny best friend with a vengeance.

  Since I’m watching Casey so closely, I know the moment she spots Bobby leave with her friend, the way her lips purse, the way she watches the empty doorway for a full minute before she’s shouted at by some rude fucker demanding his next drink.

  Before I get a chance to smash his rude face into the bar, Casey turns from the door to the dick, she rips him a new asshole, though I can’t hear the exact words, but I know she doesn’t give him the drink he asked for, then only moments later Mike is escorting his stupid ass out the door.

  She’s no one’s damsel in distress.

  Fifteen minutes later, I feel a sharp tap on my shoulder and my head snaps up to Aiden’s as his eyes glare over my shoulder. I swing around in my stool, ready to protect my back, ready to protect my brothers in an instant, and when I spot Bobby storming toward us with murder in his eyes, I move to him even as I silently say goodbye to Casey.

  Bobby already fucked it up for me.

  Jimmy approaches us at the same moment Bobby, Aiden and I meet. Someone’s going to war tonight and if it’s my brother, I’ll always be on his wings.

  “What’s wrong?” Aiden asks, never one to tiptoe around a subject.

  Bobby’s mouth is tight, his eyes hot and pissed like I rarely see them. “Who the fuck is Jack?”

  Aiden’s face pulls in tight, as confused as the rest of us, and with his muttered, “Huh?” Bobby pushes past us and storms to the bar. Toward Casey.

  Her eyes snap up as we approach her like a tidal wave and she looks from Bobby’s eyes to mine, then back to rest on Bobby’s.

  “What’s wrong? Where’s Kit?”

  “Who the fuck is Jack?” Bobby demands, leaning toward her dangerously and I slam my hand down on his shoulder in warning.

  “Watch it, B.”

  “Ahhm,” Casey hedges, suddenly not so wary as she leans on the bar again. “How do you know Jack?” Her eyes flare again as a thought hits her. “And where is Kit? You haven’t upset her, have you?”

  The fury rolling off Bobby is like nothing I’ve ever seen before, the usually unflappable peacock is stupidly happy most of the time. “Kit,” he spits at Casey, “just left with three big ass guys.”

  My eyes flare at Bobby’s news. “What the fuck?”

  Jim almost laughs, amplifying the awkwardness. “I thought she was a nice girl. Not a three at once kinda chick. Fuck, didn’t see that one coming.”

  Casey’s gaze drags to Jim and she rolls her eyes at his stupidity. “The three guys; was one of them Jack?”

  She lets out a low whistle when Bobby nods and I feel myself relax, though Bobby seems to grow more tense. “Yeah, she’s fine. She’s safe. Jack, on the other hand is in big trouble.”

  Bobby tries to question Casey about what she knows, trying to hustle her for this other chicks number, but Casey denies him and despite my brother looking almost heartbroken, I smile. She may be small, but she won’t be hustled, and she won’t be persuaded by a group of fighters.

  “I think we had it wrong,” Case says, tapping her delicate fingers on my hand after Bobby storms away and out of the club. “Kit’s gonna be just fine. Your boy didn’t break her heart at all. The girls win this round.”

  Seven

  Tink

  The Hernandez Fight

  I met a boy.

  This isn’t me. I don’t meet boys.

  I work at a club; I meet people every day. I meet hot guys every day. I meet hot guys who like to flirt with me and buy me drinks every day.

  It’s a game and I do well, smiling with smug satisfaction as I count my tips at closing every morning. They pay better when you flutter your lashes at them and make them feel like big manly men.

  I don’t know why this one stuck with me, but a month ago I met a man named Jon Hart, and though he basically offered himself up to me, and I’d be a lying whore if I said I wasn’t tempted, it just didn’t feel right.

  Something’s off about him. There’s vulnerability inside him and despite his almost six and a half feet of solid muscle and the dangerous look in his eyes, the sculpted jaw that I know has taken a few hits over the years, despite the dry humor and the fun we had together, there was a vulnerability in him.

  I would have enjoyed taking him to my bed and I know he would have rocked my world, but I just couldn’t bring myself to take the leap.

  I think Jon would have broken my heart before the sun even rose the next morning. Let’s call a spade a spade; my rejection was purely a survival tactic.

  I talk to my best friend every day and I see her most days, so I know that she and Bobby have reconnected. I know they’re talking and I know she’s giddy just thinking about him.

  No matter what Jon said about Bobby, I think Bobby will treat Kit gently. He looks at her this way, with this determination in his eyes, a look no man has ever gifted me.

  I’m okay with that. I didn’t lie when I told Jon I was trying to cool my jets on the guy front.

  Unlike my perfectly proper friend Kit, who’s bedded a perfectly proper number of men in her life, I can’t say that I even know my number anymore.

  I’m not ashamed of my past. It’s not the nineteen fifties anymore and I don’t need to be married to be with a man.

  While there’s still a difference in the way a woman is looked at for sleeping around compared to the congratulations a man receives for the same act, at least they don’t throw stones at loose women anymore.

  Not that I think I’m a loose woman either. Just a realist.

  I’ve dated men; I dated Alan for two years. He took my virginity and he enjoyed it. Our thing ran its course and I caught him fucking some other chick. That’s cool, whatever. My eighteen year old heart wept, but my best friend picked me up and dusted me off and we moved on. Then I dated Ty. He was fun. He was good in bed. But again, shit ran its course and we ended it about two years later. I guess my love life runs a certain holding pattern. Good sex. Fun times. Two years. The guy finds his dick in someone else’s panties.

  My best friend picked me up again and we kept on trucking along. Somewhere around my twenty second birthday I met
Todd. I told Jon about him.

  About two years after we officially hooked up, I realized his dopey ass was a waste of my time.

  It turns out I was a serial monogamist and I needed to spend some time single. Single didn’t mean without guys, it just meant no commitment. I was breaking my two year curse by not entering a relationship at all.

  Enter man number four onwards. I don’t regret them. None of them treated me badly. Ironically enough, these one night stand men treated me better than the men who claimed to be loyal to me. If you ignore the fact we slept together the same night we met, their behavior otherwise was perfectly chivalrous.

  I’d found the elixir to life. You don’t need a boyfriend who’ll treat you like shit, eat your cereal and bitch about everything. These other men treated me like a queen for the hour or two we spent together. It was perfect.

  A few months ago though, when I realized I legitimately couldn’t count them all anymore, when the names and faces and the details were blurring together, I realized I’d dropped my serial monogamist label and I’d picked a whole new label up.

  It was time for me to just stop. No dick for me. No dirty kisses, no three a.m. fun. Just no more. I needed time to be me, alone, for a while.

  Jon Hart almost made me forget the promise I’d made myself. He’s someone I could easily fall into bed with, and I’d do it with a smile on my face. But when it’s time for him to leave the next day… I don’t know. He’s just different and I don’t have it in me right now to figure out why.

  But inevitably, if my best friend and his best friend start seeing each other, I can’t avoid Jon forever. Thank God I didn’t sleep with him! That could have made everything awkward.

  I step around my couch, slumping into the cushions after grabbing a beer from my fridge and I switch my TV on. I’m a little sad to be watching the fight alone tonight, but like I need to be alone away from boys for now, I also need to learn how to cope without Kit always picking me up.

  That’s not to say I don’t see her most days. I talk to her every single day. But I wasn’t going to whine to her about being lonely and guilting her into hanging out with me. She has a whole new world of shit to deal with in her life, with Jack moving in and her dad dying.

  My grief and longing for her dad is nothing compared to hers, but I do miss him dearly. I grew up with Kit and Jack and their Dad. He was a kind, sweet man who treated me as well as he treated his own daughter. His absence will be felt for a long time.

  I’m determined to support Kit and help her in every way I can. That includes not dragging her down with my totally non important shit about men.

  I smile as my phone dings and I pick it up, as though my thoughts about her have summoned her.

  Kit: Hey! Whatchya doing, right now?

  I chuckle even as I shuffle my pathetic ass into the cushions and pop open my drink.

  Me: Hey!! Just sitting down, opening a beer. Watching TV. What about you?

  K: We’re at the Kincaid gym. Watching the Hernandez fight.

  I laugh at her reply. She’s my best friend for a reason.

  Me: Bitch! I’m waiting for that fight to start too. I didn’t want to mention it because I know you’ve been stressed and busy…

  K: It’s cool. You should have! I totally forgot. The guys do a pizza fight night thing like we do, but at the gym. They invited us. You should come!

  Me: Really? Now? Are you already there?

  Kit: Yeah, Jack and I are here, and the guys. Pizza is here, and I brought some drinks. You should grab some ice cream and come over. Quick! Fight starts soon!

  Me: Argh! But I’m in my pj’s! It’ll take forever to change and get there.

  K: Wear them! It’ll blow Jon’s mind.

  Oh my god.

  Me: Jon’s there?!? Omg omg omg.

  So much for being cool. I’m not an ‘omg’ squealer kinda girl. But still, fight nights are pretty boring without friends by my side. If I wear my metal underwear and leave the key at home, everything should be fine. Right?

  K: LOL, yeah, he’s here. Seriously though, I’m wearing casual shorts and a messy pony. Just come, and hurry!

  A bed partner, I don’t need, but I could always do with more friends. And if Kit and Bobby are starting to see each other, then Jon and I will inevitably see more of each other. I’m not actually a whore with no willpower. I can be in the same room as a sexy man and not jump him.

  M: Okay, already running to my room. See you soon.

  I sprint to my bedroom, kicking my pyjama pants off and almost braining myself against the door jamb as I go.

  ~*~

  It does my heart good to climb out of my car and find Kit mounting a sexy man out the front of the gym. Her ex-boyfriend Max was a piece of shit. He never kissed her the way Bobby is kissing Kit now. He never looked at her or held her or crowded her the way Bobby does.

  I approach the couple as they make out indecently but I can’t let the opportunity pass without making Kit squirm. The job of a best friend is to make her girl’s life hell in these situations. It’s an honor bestowed upon a special few, and one I’d never be stupid enough to pass up, so I clear my throat with a girly, “Ahem.”

  Jumping away from Bobby as though he spontaneously combusted, Kit smashes herself against the brick wall behind her and though I feel momentary guilt for causing it, the laughter bubbles up my throat and escapes, feeding off her poor embarrassed face.

  “Shit, babe.” I jump forward though my laughter doesn’t stop. “Are you okay?”

  “You asshole!” she snaps at me, flustered and embarrassed as her eyes meet Bobby’s again. She looks back to me with a deep blush covering her cheeks. “What are you doing sneaking up on people?”

  I lift the bag of ice-cream bars I picked up on the way here, smugly satisfied as her mortified face flushes a deeper red. “I’m here for pizza and sexy fighters. You knew I was coming.”

  Kit lets out a tiny mortified squeak and I bite my tongue before I make this worse for her. “Well yeah, but I thought you’d be a while yet. I only texted you a minute ago.”

  “You texted me ages ago and now I’m here. See!” I shake the bag in my hand again to prove my point. She’s going to kill me; totally worth it.

  Bobby turns to Kit with a smug grin. “This is who you were texting when I came out?”

  Kit’s poor face looks like she might die any second now. “Ahhhm, yeah?”

  When Bobby and I start laughing at her again, she glares at us, attempting to push past and go inside. “Hold on a sec.” Bobby grabs her as he bites off his laughter then he turns to me. “Hey Tink. Good to see ya, now get lost.”

  Despite his annoying as hell nickname for me, I smile and walk away anyway. He can call me anything he wants if he continues to grope my girl and make her feel pretty.

  I grab the drinks Bobby still has pressed against his chest, because he’s going to need those hands for groping, then I take my ice cream and head inside.

  I’ve never been inside this gym before. If I’m telling the truth, I’ve never been inside any gym before, and for good reason. It smells like dirty socks and ball sweat in here. I stop at the front desk to get my bearings and I spot Jack’s familiar face immediately.

  Jack is the big little brother I never had. He’s well over a foot taller than me, even at fifteen years old, and though he’s been a real fucking jerk to Kit lately, I feel like he’s changing. He’s growing. Six months ago he was probably the leading cause for heart conditions for Kit, but the last little while, excluding his 188 visit last month, but especially since then, he seems to have realized he was a tool. He’s not super obvious about it, but I see the changes. More studying after school, less backtalk, less disrespect.

  Six months ago, Jack would shout at Kit, calling her an uptight bitch and telling her he hated her guts. He made her chase his ass all over town the night they buried their dad. He got drunk and stupid and really awful and I was tempted to kill him in his sleep a million times. He’s still a sma
rtass teenager, but he’s starting to actually care about her feelings.

  He’s still on my shit list, but he’s working his way off it.

  “Hey there, Sunshine.”

  I spin on my four inch heels, careful not to drop the drinks I’m carrying and I smile when I find Jon standing behind me. He’s standing by the door, as though he was there all along and I walked right by him.

  I let my eyes track his freshly showered body, gazing up high to his still damp hair and the gray shirt that traces his chest and sticks to spots that must still be damp from the shower. I regret not buying actual steel undies. I regret my decision to bypass the metal fabrication warehouse very much.

  I don’t have the willpower.

  I’m coming off a self-imposed dry spell and Jon Hart looks like a tall glass of delicious water.

  Dammit.

  “Hey stranger.” I walk to the desk only feet away, anything to distance myself from him, choosing to breathe sweaty balls instead of eau-de-Jon post shower. I place the drinks down then the ice-cream on top, then I turn back and lean against the desk casual like I’m not mind fucking him. “Good to see you again.” So good to see him again. He’s a feast for the eyes.

  “Yeah.” Jon smirks down at me, the same smirk I remember from our ten minute date and I have to look away before I do something stupid. Like blush. “And you didn’t even have to run me down with your car.”

  I smile at the reminder. “Bobby didn’t break her heart. My shit list remains free of Rollers. For now.”

  “That’s a relief,” he laughs as he crosses his thick arms across his chest. “I was seriously looking over my shoulder every day for the last month. You’re a scary chick.”

  Even though it feels foolish to do so, I wink in an attempt to feign coolness. “Look at me keeping you on your toes. My powers are getting stronger. A whole month without even having to remind you.” I make a ‘sheesh’ noise, like I’m a three hundred pound fighter that threatened this guy with a fist to the face. “Gotta say, I’ve impressed even myself.”