Let Go (8 page)

“No Greylan,
you can’t go. You just got out and you don’t have anyone else. I
don’t have… I still want you to stay here.”

The pain in
Trinity’s voice makes him want to take it back but he has to get
out from under Parker. There’s got to be more to this thing than
what Carlo told him.

“I know Trin,
I just need to get out on my own.”

“What will you
do for a job?”

She’s curled
up on the extra- large couch trying to hold it together but he can
tell she’s about to lose it. The day he was sentenced to
involuntary manslaughter, she burst into sobs. Every strained
breath she took in that court room seemed to take the air from his
lungs. She is strong but when she loses it, it’s bad. He sits next
to her, the cushion sinking under his large frame. His hand moves
in tiny circles on her back.

“Trinity, I’ll
find something close. Okay? The bar where I’m going to work is over
by Jimmy’s so I need to be on the Westside anyway.”

She nods but
doesn’t seem convinced. A stray tear rolls down her cheek. He wipes
it with his finger and reasons, “I won’t leave you again.”

She nods again
as the front door opens and closes with a loud thump. Greylan gets
up abruptly and explains, “I need to go and pack my stuff. Will you
be okay?”

She sits up
while wiping the dampness from her cheeks, “Yes.”

Trinity
watches as Greylan walks out of the room. She can tell he is beaten
up. A big part of it she suspects is her relationship with Parker.
The funny thing about that though is that it happened completely by
accident. After Greylan was sentenced to prison she about lost it
completely. She had never been on her own so it was a huge
adjustment. Exactly six months after the sentencing, Parker walked
into Brutis’. She had been making it. Barely but she gained some
self -worth and confidence that she never would have if Greylan
would have stayed around. Parker came in all smug and stuck on
himself. She was assigned the table where he sat but she talked
another girl into going over there. He insisted that it be her who
served him. It pissed her off even more and she ended up pouring a
beer over his head that night. He came in every day for a month and
sat at that same table until she finally agreed to go out with
him.

Parker walks
into the room and her face brightens bringing her out of the
memory. It’s amazing how things happen. He leans down into the
couch and pulls her over into his lap. His lips devour hers in a
deep kiss. She never tires of this man. Fighter or not, it wouldn’t
matter what he did, she’d follow him anywhere.

He pulls his
face away just an inch and asks, “Is Greylan here?”

Momentarily
she lost herself. She moves farther away and fidgets with her hands
in her lap. She answers, “Yes, he’s here. I think he’s leaving
Parker.”

Parker nods as
if he already knew what she was going to tell him. She tilts her
head and frowns.

“Why don’t you
seem surprised?”

“It’s kind of
complicated Trinity.”

Fury fills her
voice, “So simplify it. Did you have anything to do with him
leaving?”

Parker moves
her effortlessly from his lap and looks over seriously, “No
Trinity, I didn‘t have anything to do with it but my sponsor
did.”

“What?” Her
voice rings through the room.

“Calm down,
he’ll be fine. They told Carlo to let him go from the gym. I think
the fact that he’s training again has an effect on it all.”

“I don’t
understand. He’s not fighting. Why do they care?”

Parker sinks
back into the cushions and runs his hand through his short
hair.

“The other day
when I sparred with him, he was fierce Trinity. I think they are
looking ahead.” His voice trails off. He doesn’t want to spell it
out and by the look on her face, she gets it. An official fight is
bound to happen between them if Greylan pursues this. Same trainer
and house would be bad for all involved if they end up in the cage
together.

After dinner
Greylan grabs his bag with all of his possessions and aims for the
door. Trinity follows him out. She embraces him in a tight hug and
whispers next to his ear, “Take care and keep in touch.”

Greylan nods
afraid to say anything. Scared his voice might crack. He knows
Parker will take care of her. He just needs to let her be. He keeps
telling himself that this is best. It was bound to happen
eventually anyway. He climbs into the truck and lowers the
window.

“Thank you for
the loan, I’ll pay you back with interest.”

She shakes her
head, “Grey, you know I won’t take it. Just come back for
visits”

“I will. No
regrets.”

She smiles and
shakes her head slightly, “No regrets.”

He backs up
and puts the truck into drive. He watches her retreating figure in
the rearview mirror. He has now left his sister twice which is the
exact opposite of what he promised his mom.

A short
fifteen minute drive takes him to the west side of town. The
streets are dingy and the corners are littered with loiterers. But
he pushes on and parks next to a three story brick building. The
sign out front advertises
Weekly Rentals
. There isn’t even
an official name for the place. He pays for a couple of weeks at
the front desk and grabs his key. When the first floor door opens
to reveal a queen sized bed with well- worn blankets and a chair in
the corner he shakes his head at himself for the second time that
day. He lands on top of the bed in a heap, too tired to even remove
his shoes. First thing is done, a new place to stow his shit. In
the morning he’ll have to find a new place to train.

A shrill
scream followed by a steady pounding on the wall wakes him up in
the middle of the night.

“Fucking
great!” he calls to no one and covers his head with the mildewy
pillow.

When he opens
his eyes, a few hours later, he feels disoriented. The darkened
space gives nothing away as to his location. Finally he remembers
he moved out of Trinity’s house. A decrepit weekly rental is his
new reality. He moves his hand to the table beside the bed and
switches the light on. A soft glow emanates through the space
allowing it more deception than it deserves. It doesn’t look as
harsh as it does by the light of the day.

As light
spreads through the room, a door slams with yelling between a man
and a woman. He shakes his head at the irony of everything. At
least in prison he got a decent night’s sleep on occasion. He has a
feeling the likelihood of that here is probably very slim. He drags
himself out of bed and showers in lukewarm water even as the knob
is turned as hot as it will go.

After dressing
in jeans and a t-shirt he pulls out of the lot with the only other
local gym as his destination. Once there the corrugated metal
warehouse looms before the truck. It kills him that it’s come to
this. No one is like Carlo when it comes to training for this sport
and he’s given him up to Parker.

The glass
door, tiny in the wide, windowless wall announces Westside Fight
Club. He forges on not surprised the room is already full of
movement. One wall suspends black and blue punching bags. Further
away, near the far wall, there is an array of mats with a couple of
pairs of fighters already going at it.

A dark-skinned
man, tattoos lining his arms with a black tank top leans over the
ropes surrounding a square ring in the forefront of the room. He’s
eyeing the two men grappling with each other on the mat within the
ring. Greylan walks toward the man. He turns his head a moment at
Greylan’s movement but directs his attention back to the fighters.
Greylan halts next to the man and watches as the two on the mat,
one dark haired, one blond, punch one another and struggle to gain
dominance. The dark haired man pulls the other man in a choke from
behind. Greylan expects a tap out but the blond man surprises him
and grasps the other man in a kind of headlock pulling him over his
head by his arms. The dark-haired man slaps the man on his back and
before he can move, the other man is on top of him forcing him to
tap the blond man’s arm. Both men refrain from each other for a
moment before standing. The man beside Greylan puts his fingers to
his mouth and whistles. He calls out, “Jonesy that was one gutsy
move that paid off.”

The
dark-haired man pats Jonesy on the back and shakes his hand.

Jonsey has a
wide grin on his face. He looks to the man beside Greylan and
answers, “Yeah, well I’m countin on all my moves to pay off,”
laughing.

The man beside
Greylan shakes his head and tells both men, “Go cool off. We
wouldn’t want either one of you to have a big head.”

Both men laugh
and walk off the mat grabbing gym bags on the way to a hallway in
the corner of the room. As they leave the area the man turns to
Greylan and offers his hand, “Jackson Pierce, I’m the owner of this
fine establishment. You must be Greylan Pace.”

Greylan takes
his hand in his own and nods.

Jackson smiles
revealing two gold teeth on his canines. He states, “Carlo
called.”

Greylan nods
again. He asks apprehensively, “Do you have any more room?”

Jackson
chuckles and asks Greylan, “What you really want to know is am I
ready to make the jump? Are you ready? Carlo isn’t sure if you
still have what it takes.”

Hearing
Carlo’s thoughts from this guy hammers it home yet again how things
have changed. Greylan suspects that those are supposed to be
motivational words. Greylan drops his hands shoving them into the
pockets of his jeans.

He eyes the
man for a moment and answers, “Carlo’s right. I’m not sure either.
It’s been a long time and things have changed…”

Jackson cuts
him off releasing the rope he was leaning on.

“I don’t have
time for bullshit. I watched your career and you would have been
sitting exactly where Parker Harris is. You’re not but it can
happen again. No, I don’t have room for a has been working out just
to pass the time away.”

Greylan looks
away pissed at himself even more for all of his choices.

Jackson begins
to walk away but stops and turns around. He is playing with a
toothpick in the corner of his mouth. He removes it and looks
Greylan up and down.

“Do I have
room for you to make a comeback? Yes, but be forewarned I will work
your ass off. You’ll be wishing for that pussy assed trainer,
Carlo.”

He walks away
before Greylan can say anything in response but his guess is that
Jackson doesn’t want an answer right away. He’s thankful for that
fact. He obviously has a lot of thinking to do.

As darkness
threatens the sky, Greylan makes his way to his hopeful new place
of employment known as Juno’s Jackpot Bar. The entrance is
non-descript. It’s situated snuggly into a front lined with other
establishments in the lower part of West Brunswick. The sign over
the door displays a treasure chest with a crab peeking out and
coins flying all around the letters spelling out the name. Greylan
spoke to Juno on the phone and she instructed him to come in that
evening. He makes his way around to the back of the building
because it’s not yet open. The alley behind the building is
littered with cans and boxes next to a dumpster emanating a putrid
smell. Greylan holds his breath as he knocks on the heavy looking
metal door. A moment later it opens to reveal a small framed woman
with long black hair peppered in gray streaks. Her T-shirt
showcases the same treasure chest and lettering as the sign out
front. Her warm brown eyes seem kind but her set mouth tells him
that she won’t put up with anything. He imagines she is rightly
named Juno. She looks fifty something and seems as though she has
definitely seen her share of life’s ups and downs.

She takes a
drag on a cigarette burning close to her fingers and mutters in
surprise, “You showed up.”

Greylan
doesn’t know why he’s surprised by her comment but knowing Jimmy he
told her about his history already. The day before on the phone she
didn’t ask about his background so he didn’t offer. He needs this
job badly.

She states,
“You must be Greylan.”

He nods
realizing that statement is a common one today. She smiles and
tells him, “Come on back to the office.”

She opens the
door to a clean space. A computer monitor displays camera shots of
the bar and building beyond. Greylan is surprised by the neatness
because he had her pegged as messy based on her haphazard hair and
clothes. She produces paperwork that he quickly signs.

She takes a
quick breath once the papers are finished and explains, “Christina
is behind the bar with you tonight. It’s Saturday night, the
busiest of the week so you get a crash course.”

She stands
putting her cigarette out in an empty ash tray on her desk. She
turns and winks as the meeting wraps up, her eyes lingering on him
like she wants to add something. He knows that look, fighting for
as long as he did, he had his share of women throw themselves at
him. He turns and walks out before she can ask the lingering
question. She’ll probably pursue it later and when he turns her
down he’ll be out of a job.