Let Go (7 page)

She bats her
eyes while chewing her gum, “Hey sugar, what can I do for ya?”

“Um, I’m here
to see Jimmy, uh I mean James Turner.”

“Oh baby, are
you sure you came to see him? I can show you a better time than he
can.”

Greylan smiles
and chuckles, “Yeah, I definitely need to see James.”

She looks
sadly away and lifts the phone receiver whispering into it, “Yeah
you have a visitor.” There is a pause and then she yells into the
phone, “Damned if I know who he is. You come out and find out for
yourself.” She slams the phone down and eyes Greylan again. She
smirks and asks, “You sure honey?”

Greylan nods
and looks up as Jimmy walks out shaking his head. He warns,
“Daphne, if you weren’t my niece, you’d be out on your ass.”

He glances up
to Greylan and his voice booms out, “Well, well if it ain’t Greylan
Pace.”

Greylan
notices he’s changed just as Carlo has. His weight has done the
opposite. He’s thinner and his long face has gained many lines
along his forehead and around his mouth. No doubt he started
smoking again. His light hair is thinned with age and his hard
life.

“Hey
Jimmy.”

“Carlo said
you were out. I didn’t realize you were coming this way today.”

Greylan
hesitates, “Yeah, I uh, I need a job.”

Jimmy eyes his
niece who is staring at Greylan, almost drooling.

“Daphne, I
just warned you. That’s it, you’re fired.”

“Whatever
Jimmy. You can’t fire me. My mom’ll have your hide.”

Jimmy shakes
his head in exasperation and tells Greylan, “Hey, come on back
where we can have some privacy.” He glares at Daphne before leading
them down a narrow hall covered in wood paneling reminding Greylan
of his childhood home in a Jersey suburb.

Jimmy leads
them to a tiny office littered with stacks of papers covering every
surface. He surges to the lone chair facing his desk and with one
swipe of his hand the papers scatter to the floor. He gestures for
Greylan to sit. Greylan sinks to the cushioned chair as Jimmy
skirts around his broad wooden desk laden with clutter and more
papers. He perches on the edge of his worn leather chair and
states, “I’m not really sure what you think I can do for you,
Grey.”

He adds before
Greylan has a chance to respond, “You gave everything up when you
went away. None of us had much of anything after that.”

Greylan looks
at him incredulously shocked by the accusation and guilt. Coming
here was a mistake he realizes. He pushes to his feet and turns to
leave. But Jimmy’s voice halts his progression toward the door.

“I’m sorry,
but truthfully Greylan, you don’t want anything to do with me. I
have a reputation and it’s not a good one.”

Greylan turns
eyeing him curiously.

Jimmy adds, “I
became a gem of bad luck to the fighters after what happened. I had
no hope ever representing a pro. You were it.”

Greylan’s
shoulders sink at his words. He surges back to the chair and lands
into it resigned. He looks around at the peeling paint on the walls
and the windows that haven’t been cleaned in probably years.

“Jimmy, it was
an accident. If I could go back to that night and take it all back,
I’d do anything to make that happen.”

Jimmy slinks
into his chair leaning as far back as it will go. He pulls a pack
of cigarettes off the desk. He shakes one out and lights it
squinting through the smoke. As he exhales he proclaims, “Believe
me I know Grey, I guess you being here brought it all back. What we
all lost. I was pissed at you for a long time but it’s done.
Nothing’s gonna change what’s already happened.”

He asks, “Are
you thinking about going back into the cage?”

Greylan lets a
few beats of his heart pass before answering, “I’m not sure what
I’m going to do. I need a job at the moment. After that we’ll see.
Things have changed.”

“Yeah, you can
say that again. The only fighters I get anymore are amateurs. None
of them are good enough. Once they realize how short their road is
I’m out the cash because they change to a desk job. It’s a vicious
cycle.”

Greylan glares
across the room at him and questions, “Why are you still at it then
Jimmy? It’s been five years. You could have switched, done
something different.”

Jimmy shakes
his head, “Are you, of all people telling me to move on? Are
you
moving on?”

Greylan looks
to the worn brown carpet underfoot. Is he done? No, being on the
mat over the past week, he hasn’t felt this alive in a long time.
He looks back up and shakes his head with a smirk.

Jimmy smiles
dragging on his cigarette, “Didn’t think so. It’s a hard beat to
give up.”

Greylan shifts
asking, “Any thoughts on what someone of my caliber could do to
pass the time for a while?”

Jimmy puts out
his cigarette in an overflowing ashtray situated in front of him.
He stands gesturing for Greylan to follow him out the door. He
strides to Daphne’s desk. She is on the phone again twirling the
cord in her fingers. Jimmy calls her name, “Daphne.”

She looks up
and continues talking into the receiver as if he isn’t there. Jimmy
impatiently presses the button causing the dial tone to ring on the
line.

She huffs,
“Really Jimmy, was that necessary?”

“Yes, now get
your fat ass up and go get me my lunch.”

“I’m gonna
tell mom you’re talking to me like that.”

“Daphne, I
don’t give a shit. Tell your mom whatever you want. I shouldn’t
have to pay you to sit around all day talking on the phone.”

She shoulders
her purse and pouts looking up at Greylan. Her sad eyes cause him
to look away. She trudges out the door as Jimmy moves things around
on her desk muttering, “I know she has it here somewhere.”

He opens a
drawer and spots what he’s looking for. He pulls out a business
card and scribbles something on the back. He holds it out to
Greylan and explains, “Juno here owes me a favor. She usually has
something open so just tell her I sent you.”

Greylan takes
the card. It has scrawled lettering across the front advertising,
Juno’s Jackpot Bar. Greylan looks up in question, “A bar?”

Jimmy shrugs,
“Grey, it’s the best I can do. Times are hard for all of us right
now.”

“Okay
thanks.”

Greylan pushes
his hand out. Jimmy takes it in both of his, “When you start the
climb back up, you let me know. I’ll happily represent you if you
need a manager.”

Greylan nods
before turning to walk out into the chilly day. He shoves the card
into his pocket, jamming his hands further to keep warm. A job at a
bar, he never thought it would come to this.

When he pulls
the truck into the driveway Trinity comes skipping out to the
driver’s side door. She’s barefooted, dressed in sweats and a long
sleeved shirt. Greylan slides out of the truck with disappointment
across his face, “Trinity, you’re gonna catch your death out here.
Get back in the house.”

She chuckles
and shakes her head, “I can take care of myself. How’d it go? Is
Jimmy gonna get you back in?”

He shakes his
head at her naivety. She really thought it would be that easy to
get back into the cage. She doesn’t have a clue. The thought of
Parker living here with her sharing a bed crosses his mind and he’s
pissed suddenly. He scurries past her to the door.

“Grey, did I
say something?”

He turns with
his hand on the door handle, “No Trin, it’s me. Don’t worry.”

His feet move
swiftly up the steps taking him to his room. He closes the door
tightly and grabs his bag loading clothes for the gym into it. He
has the sudden urge to hit something.

The gym is
busy. People are sparring and training. Greylan glances around for
Carlo but he’s not at the ring where he is usually situated. It
doesn’t matter. He came to let go of some of this anger. He spots
Parker across the gym, a smug look on his face as he spars with
another guy. Greylan ducks into the locker room wanting to see
Parker’s face less than anyone else. When he emerges he heads
straight to a row of black bags suspended mid- air linked only by a
chain to the ceiling. Greylan wraps his hands in his gloves and
starts relentlessly beating on a bag. His muscles chord up from the
pressure. The bag swings back with each connection he makes. He
imagines Parker’s face in front of him. The more he gets to know
the guy, the less he seems to like him.

After a good
hour of beating the bag, Carlo walks up and claps Greylan on the
shoulder.

“Hey Grey, I
didn’t see you come in today. That bag is getting a good
beating.”

Greylan stops
for a minute eyeing Carlo. He seems strained like he’s trying to
make light of things but he’s really bothered by something. Greylan
knows Carlo too well.

A year before
the accident Carlo and Greylan were training. He had just won his
first amateur bout the night before and Carlo was eager to continue
the winning streak. They were in the basement of Carlo’s house. He
came in making a joke but it fell short. Later Greylan found out
that Carlo’s wife was diagnosed with breast cancer earlier in the
week. It was too late; the disease was already spreading to her
lungs. She died within six months of finding out. It was quick,
unlike his mom’s suffering with brain cancer that lasted over a
year. As much as he hated that someone had to go through what he
had, it brought them closer. A week after she died Carlo called him
and poured everything he had into training Greylan.

Now he’s
acting like he did that night in the basement. As if he just heard
the worst news ever. Greylan turns to the hand on his shoulder and
asks, “Carlo, what is it? Don’t tell me
nothin
‘cause I know
you.”

Carlo scoots a
metal chair from the wall and sinks into it perching on the edge.
His face down turned and his hands rubbing the tough skin of his
cheeks. He looks up after a moment. Greylan stands guarded, his
hands clenched because the adrenaline from hitting the bag still
courses through his veins.

“Grey, I can’t
train you. I’d like to only train you but I just can’t.”

Greylan frowns
looking at the mat below his stocking feet. He glances across the
room and meets Parker’s stare. He has paused his punching into a
punch mitt fitted on a tall man to the side of him. A small smile
spreads over his lips. In that moment Greylan’s blood heat up. He
looks back to Carlo who is palming his bald head back and forth
looking miserable.

“This is
Parker’s doing isn’t it?”

Carlo looks
across the room at Parker and back to Greylan. He muses, “He’s a
lot like you, when you first started out. He thinks he’s the best
and no one can touch him. In many ways that’s the case. Do you
remember Grey? You had the same attitude. Nothing could touch you.
No matter what, you were on your way to the top.”

He takes a
deep breath and gets up. His hand extends to Greylan’s shoulder,
“Find that again Grey. You have to want it more than anything.”

Greylan looks
away and meets Parker’s amused smile. He takes a step toward him
but Carlo’s grip tightens. He confesses, “It is Parker but he
didn’t do it. It’s his sponsors. I get a lot of donations to keep
this place afloat and most of it is because of that guy over there.
I can’t give it up Grey.”

Greylan’s eyes
avert to Carlo and he asks, his eyes squinting, “I’m just another
fighter training here. Why does it make a difference?”

“They got wind
that you’re out Grey. The only thing I can come up with is that
they think you are a conflict of interest. They think you’ll make
it back up there.”

“That’s
bullshit Carlo and you know it. I’m living with the guy for God’s
sake. My sister is engaged to him.”

“I know. All I
can tell you is that I got a call this morning telling me to let
you go. I was told that the generous donations would stop if you
continue training here.”

Greylan nods
resigned. The last thing he would want is to cause Carlo any more
heartache. He’s finally in a good place.

Greylan
squeezes Carlo’s arm and turns toward the locker room.

Carlo calls
out, “Grey?”

He turns, his
brows up in question.

“You might
want to think about moving out of the guy’s house. There might be
more to all of this than we know.”

Greylan nods.
Already a step ahead. First he needs to talk to Trinity about
fronting him some cash and then find an apartment. He needs to get
his life together. If it takes moving away from Trinity, he’ll have
to do it, as much as he hates leaving her there with Parker.