by Jayne Blue
Valerie did what her aunt advised. She closed her eyes and took in a breath and slowly did it again. She felt her heart rate slow, little by little. She opened her eyes.
“How’s your chest? Do you still have pain?” Aunt Susan asked but wasn’t pushing. She knew that if they needed to go to the doctor, Aunt Susan would make it happen.
Valerie realized she didn’t need to go to a doctor as the tightness in her chest loosened.
“How long have you had anxiety attacks?” Aunt Susan asked her.
“Since after the fire, it’s a new thing. How did you know that’s what it was?”
“Jan has them sometimes, I’ve had one or two. You don’t live as long as we have without one or two panic attacks. They’re awful.”
“Yeah, I did think my heart was going to stop there.”
“Of course you did, and I feel terrible not seeing this sooner. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Cause it’s nuts and you’ve already done too much for me.”
“Nonsense, you have had a significant tragedy and major life upheaval. There’s nothing nuts about it. I’d think you were a robot if you didn’t react in some way to all you’ve been through.”
“It’s how I started to fall in love with Zane actually, he was totally patient with me and helped me through the first one.”
“That’s a good man.” They heard a roar in the arena. Shit, Zane’s fight.
“Oh hell, I missed the whole fight. I’m the worst girlfriend. Uh.” She felt tears well up in her eyes, but Aunt Susan brushed it away.
“I heard them say his name, he won. It’s okay. Probably did the guy in with that left hook like we know he can! The great thing about owning the league? For your man’s next fight you and I can go in a skybox, no crowds. If you feel up to it, we can catch up with the fellas in the locker room area. Meyer will be there, no doubt too.”
“Okay.”
Valerie felt more like herself every second. She was upset that she missed the fight, but she also felt relief that she didn’t distract her Uncle from Zane’s moment.
She’d missed the fight, but she’d make it up to him somehow. There would be other fights. This was just the beginning. By the time they got to the locker room, she was feeling okay, stronger, and that the air was made of oxygen again not mud.
The scene she and Aunt Susan encountered was confusing and completely different than what they’d expected.
“What the hell was that shit? You had one shot, and that’s the crap you bring?” Uncle Meyer was yelling. Zane was holding his ground, and they were chin to chin.
It almost looked like the main event was in this locker room and not in the arena.
What the hell had they missed?
Chapter Fourteen
Zane
* * *
“I won the fight,” Zane said to Meyer Thompson in defiance of the accusations that Meyer was hurling at him.
They stood eye to eye. They were nearly the same height. But Thomspon had bulk that Zane had shed to make weight. Still, it was another fight, after his fight. The worst part? It was true.
Zane had won, but it was a less than dramatic victory. The decision went to the judges, and Zane came out on top. Thank God and thank the coaches at the 21C for helping him improve every aspect of his game.
But that’s not what put asses in the seats, and Meyer was letting him know.
“I paid for a powerful hook, and you gave me this safe bullshit. Do you think I can pack the crowds in with that?”
“I didn’t have an opening.”
“You did too, you had plenty. And rule one? You never let the damn judges decide, never.” This was the Meyer Thompson that Zane had heard about. This was the temper and the intensity. This was what he didn’t want to be on the other end of.
“He’s protecting that hook.” From the corner Coach, Hawking spoke up.
Shit. It was all blowing up in his face.
“You’re hurt? What’s the problem?” Sam Bosque, his agent, asked that question. Zane nodded no. Sam didn’t believe him, he could see that for sure.
“If you’re not willing to give it your all I’m not willing to invest in putting you in these fights.”
“You’re out of line Meyer. He notched a victory for you, and that’s not nothing. And had the crowd going fucking nuts.” His agent was going to bat for him against the 21C.
Zane didn’t want to reveal anything to Meyer. He’d won, he’d hoped that would be enough, but it wasn’t. 21C didn’t get to be where it was by offering mild and boring events. The fighters were expected to bring the heat. Zane had failed on that, and he didn’t want to tell Meyer why. He couldn’t reveal his injury. He wouldn’t risk the drugs.
So he shut up. He stopped trying to plead his case and stood there and waited for Meyer to say whatever he needed to say.
“I am willing and able. I just had a bad night.”
Sam stepped in between Zane and Meyer.
“Look, Thompson, there’s nothing in any contract that says he has to use the hook. So back the fuck off.” Sam was a tough agent, and he saw right now why she was beloved by every client she signed. She was a tiger in his defense. One he needed badly right now.
“Don’t be naïve Sam, you know what this kid needs to do, and he didn’t do it.”
Sam had Zane’s gym bag, she slammed it into Zane’s chest.
“Go get dressed you don’t have to deal with this abuse.” As the gym bag made contact with him, all his shit tumbled out of it. Great, just one more humiliation for the night.
As he watched the mess spill out onto the floor, a bottle bounced on the concrete of the locker room and rolled right over to Meyer Thompson’s feet.
Thompson bent down. Zane knew before he saw that it was a prescription bottle. He also knew it wasn’t his. He’d never slipped up. He’d never asked Vinnie for help. He was as clean as a nun.
“What the fuck is this Diggs?” Meyer looked at the label.
“It’s not mine.” Which sounded on Zane’s lips just as weak as it felt. A classic denial. Except it was true.
“Fentanyl? What’s going on here? You’re hurt? You’re a junkie? You’re a liar? Which is it? All the above?” Meyer shook the pill bottle in Zane’s face. Zane wanted to punch his boss in the face. He wanted to scream his innocence. He wanted a do-over for that fight. He clenched his jaw.
“Don’t say a word, Zane. Knox get him out of here.” Sam backed him up, and Knox grabbed his arm. Knox pulled him closer to the doors. He was trying to hustle Zane out of the situation. It was too late the damage to his career was done. The damage to his life was only just beginning.
They got to the doorway, and there she was. Valerie. She had seen it all. She was standing with her mouth open, next to her aunt. Great. This was just getting better and better.
“Zane? What happened? How can I help?” She looked like she’d been crying. Worse than that there was something else. Was it pity? Disappointment? Whatever it was it was too much for him. Zane’s precious balance had gone so far out of whack he could not deal with whatever emotion she was bringing to the situation.
“You can forget we met. Ask your uncle. I’m a complete fuck up, I’m not up to his fucking standards.” Valerie reached out to him, and he brushed her off.
He wanted nothing to do with the Thompsons or Valerie. Zane wanted out. He wanted out of the locker room, out of the 21C, out of this addiction, out of pain, out of everything.
He heard Valerie call his name and he shut it out. She wouldn’t understand, and he didn’t have the energy to explain it. He barely had the energy to stay off fucking Oxy. Part of him, the biggest part of him, wanted to grab that bottle and down all of the pills inside.
Zane kept walking, and Knox followed.
He’d left his career, his girl, his life in the dust back in that locker room.
And he’d fucking won the fight.
Zane felt a deep dark shadow over his soul.
And a craving that
screamed out his name.
* * *
He and Knox had a long drive back to Grand City to think about every moment. Every misstep. And he also had to admit to himself this was his own fault.
By the time they got back to Grand City, and his apartment, Zane realized that Valerie had been calling and texting. Repeatedly. He didn’t reply. He couldn’t face her like this. Not right now.
Knox stayed out of his way but stayed.
Finally, hours later, as the sun came up, Zane picked up his phone.
“I need to see you, yeah, usual place.”
“Good.” Knox had slept on the couch. Knox was watching him like a hawk. Zane had earned that level of distrust, and he was ashamed. It took years to rebuild after burning your friends, and he was still working on it. Yesterday his life took a major hit.
“Yeah, so you know those drugs weren’t mine right?”
“I didn’t think you were using again, so, yeah, I guess I believe that they aren’t yours.”
“You guess?”
“I was with you all last year.”
“True. Well. They aren’t mine.”
“Then who the hell put them in your bag?”
“No clue, maybe Vinnie thought he was doing me a favor.”
“Maybe, but you need to tell the 21C trainers about your shoulder. You need to come clean about that. Hiding and secrets sounds a lot like last year. Even if what you’re hiding is different.”
“Yeah, got it. Headed to my meeting now.”
“Good. Because I can’t follow you all day. And I can’t risk my career because you’re making bad choices for yours.”
Zane knew Knox was right.
Zane decided to walk to the diner. He had one more call to make to put things where they needed to be to fight the craving.
He dialed the number. He didn’t want to burn this bridge, but it was time.
Past time.
“Hey, my man! Great win! I set up a whole after party thing and nothing? What up? Ditching your old friends now that you’re a big star.”
“Ha, no. I’m not a star. But I’m an addict.”
“Bullshit. You just need a little bit of help. That fight shit’s tough. I’m here you man.”
“Vinnie, you almost cost me my career with that shit you left me in my bag.”
“Hunh?” Vinnie said. It wasn’t like him to lie or deny anything. Vinnie took pride in being a connection, a fixer.
“The Fentanyl in my bag that you slipped in. I didn’t ask for it. And I didn’t need it. I don’t want it. Ever.”
“Whoa, listen, bro, I am not pushing it on you, and I did not supply you anything behind your back or in front of your face. I know you’re not using. I know it. I’m just saying if you did you could call me.”
“Vinnie I’m going to need to separate from you for a while. You make it way too easy for me, and I can’t have it easy.”
“I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about. I only bring it when you want it, man.”
“Okay, still, I’m not jobbing you, I just need some distance, more distance from you and last year.”
“You know fuck you, man. I always have your back. When you need me, I’m there. This is total bullshit.” Vinnie ended the connection.
Zane felt like shit about cutting Vinnie out of his life, but it had to be done. Vinnie sounded like he honestly didn’t put the Fentanyl in his bag, but still, he would have.
Zane wondered now about everything. Where had that shit come from, had Quinton’s people tried to sabotage him with it?
He’d get to the bottom of it. There was no mystery to the rest of the shit he was dealing with. The craving, the lies he told, and the denial of how easy it would be to be right back where he was, the gutter. He needed to get that right. Right now.
He walked to the diner, the usual place, and there, even though it was barely seven in the morning, was Betsy. She sat with her coffee cup full and her ears open.
“You’re clean right?”
“Right. But everything else is a giant fucking mess.”
Zane explained the situation to Betsy, and she nodded, listened, and then laid her true feelings on him.
“You may not be using, but you’re about to. You walk around like love is the answer, and your career is all that. But you lied. You hid the pain. You only shared a small part of your real life with the people who you say you trust.”
“You know why.”
“You’re one bad day away. Maybe now you know it. Until you start being honest with your inner circle, you are asking for trouble. Look. I gotta go. I’m supposed to be at Muffins with Mom.” Betsy stood up and fished in her jeans pocket for money.
“Forget it. I got it.”
She shrugged at him.
“Get yourself right, Diggs. Now.”
Zane sat there stunned. He was hoping for validation from Betsy, sympathy, shit, maybe even some outrage. The drugs weren’t fucking his. He didn’t ask anyone for them and yet here he was. Hanging by a thread with Meyer and pushing his girlfriend away because he was embarrassed and pissed.
He wanted to reach out to Valerie. He wanted to tell her that he was a recovering addict. That he was only months out of rehab. That he was only seconds from calling Vinnie back and making all this turmoil fade away.
He couldn’t face her or that conversation. Right now, everyone in his life except maybe Knox thought he’d been using. He could prove otherwise, and it dawned on him how.
He dialed Sam.
“Hey, Sam.”
“Jesus Zane. I was worried after you stormed out. Meyer Thompson wants to pull your contract. I held him off, but it looks bad Zane. Your fight was weak and then the drugs in your bag. I did some research. Research I should have done before. Why didn’t you tell me you just got out of rehab before I signed you?”
“I wanted you to sign me.”
“Yeah, okay just fucking great. Well, it’s damage control time. Were those your drugs?”
“No, it was a setup. Or some sort of mistake. I’m clean, and I’ve stayed away from temptation since the moment I walked out of New Directions Substance Abuse’s program.”
“We can prove that, thank God. I’m calling up all the blood and urine tests they did on you this last few months. They’re spotless right?”
“I’ve been a monk. I’m telling you.”
“Fine. I’ll know after one phone call. Now let’s talk about the shoulder? What’s up with that?”
“I tweaked it on that first 21C fight night and didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Zane, this is a second chance you’re getting right now. From me. I am here to get you the best deal and the best care. That means honesty. We get you the right doctors.”
“It was doctors that started me. I’m not doing that again.”
“Then you had bad doctors. We do this my way now. Okay, I’ve gotta go. I’ve got some medical evidence to shove up Meyer Thompson’s ass.”
His agent was tough, and he was grateful.
Maybe he should call Valerie back. He rehashed the way he’d pushed her out of his way, spoken harshly to her, and lied about who he really was to someone who’d only be open and honest with him.
No. Valerie didn’t deserve the pile of shit that was on fire in her life.
Her life was filled with her own dreams and plans. Babysitting Zane’s baggage wasn't her job.
He loved her too much to make his mess her problem. So he continued to ignore the texts.
She deserved someone whose life was in order. And right now, his wasn’t. But it would be with Sam’s help.
Zane also had a burning question that needed to be answered.
Who put the drugs in his bag? Why? Had he forgotten asking for them? He knew denial was a powerful thing but it didn’t work like this, did it?
Zane had more questions than answers.
* * *
Fifteen
* * *
Valerie
* * *
&nbs
p; Valerie was stunned. Stung. The drugs were one thing. What was that about? And then the way Zane lashed out. This wasn’t the Zane she knew.
She called, texted, and called him again. But Zane had shut her out, and she didn’t know how to fix it.
Did he love her? He said he did. She told him that she loved him. She did love him.
But Zane, well, she didn’t know about the drugs, his injured shoulder, and maybe, she feared, she didn’t know a lot more.
For the first time since the moment Uncle Meyer offered her the job as the project manager for his businesses Valerie stayed home from work.
She wanted to be under her covers. She didn’t know quite what to make of the world. And she was, at her core, desperately missing Zane. Zane was her rock, and now she realized that maybe what they had was all lies. Maybe what he’d said was all lies.
Aunt Susan and Jan visited during the day and offered a shoulder to cry on and ice cream.
“Your uncle’s a tough critic. Zane won the fight. I’m sure he’s still got the contract. The drugs, well that’s another thing,” Aunt Susan said.
“Yeah, something he’d kept from me.”
“I know it doesn’t seem like it now. But this will work out. I promise. It’s part of loving deeply, and well, living fully. Pain is part of the equation.” Jan nodded at Aunt Susan’s sage words. It didn’t make any of it hurt less.
Aunt Susan and Jan let her know they were there for her but then gave her space. Valerie needed to process what she felt about Zane. She also felt like she needed to lick her own wounds.
Valerie felt almost as unmoored as the in the first few days after her parents died. Last night was another seismic shift in her life, life with Zane, life without Zane. Was that where she was now?
Life without Zane.
Late in the afternoon of her day of moping and fretting a knock at the door prompted her to get out of bed.
She opened it to find Trent on the other side.
“You were supposed to call me and nothing so far?” Trent pointed to an imaginary watch on his wrist.