Always For You (Books 1-3) (33 page)

July 26
^th
2014

Grace

The summer was really dragging.
Dragging so much that I yearned to get back to college. Chase was
working so much I hardly saw him, shooting this way and that from
dawn until dusk. It left me there, stuck with nothing to do. I
yearned for action, dissatisfied with how mundane life had become.

It was ironic really. My life had more
in it that it ever did a couple of years ago, when I was seeing Tom,
happily working away at my college education. Now I had Chase, who,
quite frankly, was just that little bit more interesting than Tom,
and a newly found brother who seemed to get into scrapes every five
minutes. In fact, that was becoming more literal than ever from what
I heard. Apparently he was fighting a lot, doing this underground
cage thing, no holds barred macho contests where just about anything
went.

In the past I'd have been
disgusted by the idea, but that hint of danger, it struck a chord
with me now. So much so that I asked Cain if I could come and watch
him fight one night. “Grace, hell no, it's no fucking place for a
girl like you,” he'd told me.
A girl like
me.
I knew what he meant and I resented it. I
wasn't this delicate little petal that I was when we first met. No, I
had toughened up now, my experiences over the last few years had seen
to that.

It was a Saturday night when I decided
to take action, to give myself that surge of adrenaline that I
wanted. I told Chase I was seeing Katie, going out for a girlie
night. I'd gotten much better at lying recently, so Chase didn't
batter an eyelid. I guess there was nothing to question there anyway.

Of course, I wasn't seeing Katie at
all. Even telling that little fib sent a wave of excitement through
my body.
Wow, I actually felt alive again.
I got into my car
and drove through town, the buildings around me getting smaller and
more gritty as I went. I knew where Cain was fighting, I knew the
club he went to. I was gonna get in there whether he liked it or not.

I parked up in the parking lot near the
club and headed for the entrance. I'd never been in there before,
never wanted to until recently, until now. The place looked harsh
from the outside, unwelcoming for all but the toughest of patrons.
Not the sort of place anyone would expect a pretty little college
girl like me to go.

There was a bouncer on the
door, of course there was. He looked me up and down as I approached,
his eyes stripping me bare.
Yeah you can look
all you want, that's all you're getting though.

“I think you're lost little lady,”
he said to me.
The fucking cheek.

“No, I'm just where I want to be,”
I said. “are you gonna let me in or what?”

“You know what goes on down there,
right?” he said. “I don't think it's your scene.”

“Well, I'll take that as a
compliment,” I retorted. “My brother's down there, I'm here to
see him fight.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, Cain. He's fighting tonight,
right?”

“Well I'll be damned, I'd never have
pegged you as that guys brother. You don't look nothing alike.”

“Yeah well I guess I got lucky. Now
can I pass?”

“Sure thing honey, be safe now.”

He stepped aside and let me through,
opening the door to a dank stairway. I smelt the stink of beer and
stale chips immediately, a heavy smell emanating from down below. I
walked through the door and started down the steps, the noise getting
louder as I descended, the crowd cheering and jeering in equal
measure. I half regretted my decision the closer I got to the bottom,
considering whether to turn back, to pack it all in.

No, what could happen? This was
therapy, just what I needed
.

I ventured further down and through a
door at the bottom, all the smells and noises I'd sensed from above
suddenly magnified tenfold. There was a bar along one side of the
basement, a couple of burly men in white vests dishing up beer to the
thirsty masses. Thirsty for beer, thirsty for blood.

In the middle of the room was a ring,
surrounded by a large steel cage, blood stains all over the canvas.
Surrounding it were makeshift tiers, benches lined along them
supporting the crowd. There must have been a few hundred people in
there, the sort of crowd you'd expect in a place like this. Everyone
seemed to have tattoos and shaved heads, all of them wearing ripped
jeans and leather jackets. I swear I could count the number of women
in there on one hand, although there were a few who I couldn't tell
what they were.

A fight was just finishing as I watched
on, a young man getting his jaw cracked by a vicious punch before
being stretchered out of the ring, his conqueror holding his hands up
in victory. I swear I could hear the crack of his jaw even from where
I stood, trying to maintain a low profile over in the corner.

Then I saw an announcer step into the
ring, shouting out to the crowd and geeing them up for the next
fight. From a door at the back came a man, monstrous and mean,
lumbering forward like a moving mountain, the crowd parting before
him as he stepping into the ring with a heavy thud. He jumped around
heavily, cheering out and beating his chest like a caveman.

The announcer spoke again, and I
quickly realized who'd be coming out next. It was Cain, flanked by
Brad, walking confidently through the crowd, his face shrouded by a
hood. My breathing quickened as I watched him enter the cage, the
door locked behind him, and step up towards the man, standing a good
half foot above him. Suddenly I wished I wasn't watching - I was
about to see my brother get killed.

Or at least, that's what I'd feared. In
reality, the fight didn't last long. For all of the giant man's size
and strength, he was no match for Cain's speed and technique. I'd
seen Cain fight before, seen him brawl, but this was different. The
man lumbered towards him like a charging rhino, swinging wildly. I
thought that if one of those punches hit, perhaps he'd be in trouble.
But they never did.

Within a couple of minutes Cain had
seen his opportunity, sliding in and taking the man down by his legs.
He managed to get a good grip, twisting and turning at the man's
ankle, trying to make him submit. I could hardly look as he twisted
his foot into an unnatural position, forcing the man to slap his hand
on the floor in pain as the bone cracked. The howl of the giant rung
out over the entire hall, a piercing roar that sent the crown into
silence.

They quickly erupted into cheers again
as the referee lifted Cain's hands to the heavens. Clearly a large
proportion of the crowd had bet on him, confident that he'd deliver
the win. I was shocked, shocked to see him fight with so much
reserve, so much calm.. He'd waited for his chance like an eagle
hovering over its prey, and when it came, he didn't miss it. He was
clinical, like a surgeon with a scalpel, and the crowd were beginning
to love him for it.

As quickly as it had begun Cain was
walking off towards the door at the back, not a scratch on him. He'd
barely even broken a sweat. For all the seediness of the place, for
all of its barbaric intentions, I felt alive watching that fight,
watching Cain take down a man twice his size in the blink of an eye.
I couldn't help but be impressed.

Not everyone there was happy though.
Several of the punters had clearly been right behind the big guy, and
were now grumpily trundling towards the exit. They saw me lingering
nearby, trying to blend in with the background, trying to avoid their
stares. But I couldn't help it, I stood out in there like a sore
thumb.

They issued a few suggestive remarks at
me as I stood there, the usual sort of crap. I ignored them though,
simply looking away and pretending I didn't hear them. I wasn't
trying to be snobbish or dismissive, but I guess they took it that
way, one of them at least. He walked towards me with a scowl, his
breath stinking of beer, clearly upset about losing a wedge on the
man mountain currently being hauled out of the ring.

“You think you're better than me?”
he said drunkenly, aggressively.

Right now, yeah I do.
“No, of course not,” I responded, not wanting to aggravate him
further.

“Fucking bitch.” The insult came
out of nowhere. I really didn't think that I was doing anything
wrong.

“What did you call her?” The voice
came from the side. I looked over to see Brad there, collecting an
envelope off the ring announcer, stepping in towards us.

“Say it again,” he said, “just
say it again.”

The man turned to him, slightly wobbly
on his feet, and leaned in close to Brad's face. “Fucking bitch.”
He said the words slowly, annunciating every syllable as best he
could for maximum effect.

I saw Brad's face turn slowly to a
smile. Then, out of nowhere, his fist came flying in from the side,
cracking the man on the side of the face and sending him, and his
half finished beer, cascading to the floor.

He looked up at the guys friends,
standing them all down. “Anyone else wanna call this girl a bitch?”
he asked.

I could see his fists clench, his body
coiled and ready for action. The men looked pissed, but none of them
made a move, each too scared of receiving the same treatment as their
fallen comrade.

“I haven't got all night ladies. If
you're not gonna do anything, get this hunk of shit out of here.”
He kicked at the guy on the floor, his words goading. It was almost
as if he wanted them to step in and strike.

But they never made a move, put off by
his poise, his confidence. He stood there like a statue, unmoving,
unwavering. I felt an unexpected attraction to him, to the way he
stood up for me. When I'd met him all that time ago I'd thought
nothing or him, but I guess I'd changed. It was the first time I'd
thought about anyone other than Chase in that way for a long time. I
guess any woman would have felt the same, boyfriend and in love or
not.

Eventually the guys lifted their friend
off the floor and dragged him off up the stairs. Brad stood fastened
to the ground until they'd gone, before turning to me.

“OK, what are you doing here Grace?”

I felt slightly foolish. This clearly
wasn't a place for me. “Nothing, I just - wanted to see Cain fight.
I know it sounds weird, but things have been weird lately.” I
didn't know how much he knew of anything, so chose not to elaborate.

“Look, you'd better go. I know for a
fact that Cain doesn't want you coming down here. Tell you what. If
you go now, I won't tell him I saw you. Deal?”

He stuck out his hand as if we were
conducting some sort of business transaction, his eyes locked on me,
eyebrows slightly raised. “OK, you're right,” I said, taking his
hand, “I shouldn't be here.”

He withdrew his hand from mine, sliding
his fingers across my palm as he did. “Maybe I'll see you around
Grace,” he said as he walked off, “you're looking well.”

I smiled as he left,
before heading straight for the door as he'd instructed. “Well that
was eventful,” I said to myself with a smile as I got in my car.
Certainly more so than a night out with Katie.

August
9
^th
2014

Cain

I slid the envelope under the door and
quickly turned away, walking briskly back towards my bike down the
street. I'd heard someone inside and didn't want to get caught,
didn't want to be found out.

Inside, I knew, was a mother and baby
boy. I'd never met them, but I knew who they were - Rex's family, his
ex girlfriend and son.

I had been going there once every
couple of weeks now, sneaking up and sliding an envelope under the
door, each time making sure I wasn't seen or heard. After the events
in the warehouse I'd struggled with the words that were ringing
constantly in my head, words that had fallen from Rex's mouth. He'd
told me how his life had fallen apart after I sent him to hospital,
how everything he loved had been taken from him. His girlfriend. His
unborn child. I'd ruined everything.

I managed to find out where he lived,
trailing one of his old coaches from the club back to his place. When
he left I broke in - it wasn't hard - and took a look around. I don't
know why I did it. In fact, it was fucking stupid actually. But I
did, I wanted to get a feel for this guy, try to get a bit of closure
on things, find out what sort of person he was. I was torturing
myself, but I deserved it after everything I'd done.

In his flat I'd found a picture of his
girlfriend and baby boy. In fact, I'd found a lot of them. It was
clear that he treasured them above everything, that losing them had
destroyed him. There were notes and letters telling her how much he
loved her, how much he missed her, that whatever happened, he'd
always be there to support her.

He'd been sending her money, every
couple of weeks, money for his boy. It was all he cared about, seeing
his boy provided for, supported. But now, now that he was dead, that
support was gone, the envelopes of money no longer coming in the
post. I wondered how much his girlfriend relied on that money, how
much she needed it to raise her son, his son.

I made a pact that day to continue
where he left off. It was my fault they hadn't been together, and now
my fault that he was gone. I couldn't let this young woman and her
son suffer as a result. I had to step in where Rex had left off.

So I started going every two weeks,
giving her the same money that Rex had. It was my responsibility now,
and whatever dent it made in my own winnings, it didn't matter.