No Regrets (No Regrets #1) (14 page)

A
moment later a noise across the room grabs my attention. Jackson enters the space, his mouth in a tight line. He sits beside me and lets the silence spread for a moment. Finally he mumbles, “Whatever it is, Grey, that you beat yourself up about - your parents, Theodore James, or anything else - you have to let it go.”

I nod
, looking to the floor. I know Jackson’s words are right but it’s hard when you have demons like mine.

Jackson adds, “
You might want to think about going to talk to someone.”

My head jerks
up with a frown. “You mean like a shrink?”

Jackson chuckles
. “I guess like a shrink, some way for you to get the guilt out. Grey, trust me, I know, it will eat away at you.”

I look away
, knowing that Jackson has probably had some things in his past that could definitely compete with my own. He was in the army for fifteen years before opening the gym. He fought in the Kuwait war. I can only imagine what he endured.

With
out saying anything else, I move to the locker and slip a shirt over my head. I turn to Jackson but the room is empty. I fit jeans over my sore muscles and splash cold water over my face at the lone sink. Finally as I leave the gym I spot Jackson waiting by his truck.

Beside the truck
is a familiar car from my past, Meyer’s Mustang. I shake my head;
of course he still has that damn car
. As I approach them, Meyer turns his attention my way. He steps forward, extending his hand. “Hey, congratulations. I didn’t have any doubts, but that second round, buddy…”

I grab his hand but don’t respond to his comment. I turn to Jackson and ask
, “You ready?”

At this point I’m
pissed. Angry with Meyer for coming back and more pissed that he brought Red with him. At the thought of her I scan the lot which is mostly empty. My eyes land on Meyer’s car but she isn’t there, either. I look back at Meyer, about to tell him exactly how I feel, but Jackson speaks up.

“Grey, I was just talking to Meyer here. He wants to take us out for a drink. Are you up for that?”

My blood starts to boil. Turning to Jackson, a frown forms on my face, silently questioning if he’s lost his mind. But Jackson explains, “Grey, I think you might want to hear what Meyer here has to say.”

I glare
at Meyer for a moment and shake my head. “I don’t have to listen to shit. I won’t repeat my past mistakes. Have a good night, Meyer.”

I
open the door of the truck and slide in. My gaze remains forward even as Jackson climbs in. He doesn’t utter another word on the drive back to my apartment and I’m more thankful for the other man than I’ve ever been.

Chapter 17

“Thud!” I wince as my body shudders with the force of my hand against the other man’s head. Another bang and I frown. The sound continues, bringing me out of the same scene that repeats nearly every night, the sight of Theodore James hitting that wall from the force of my arm. More banging. My eyes flutter open and I turn to glance at the time, ten o’clock. My legs shift and I realize the banging is coming from the front door. Someone is insistent on getting my attention. I consider lying here longer and not answering it. Sooner or later they’ll give up, but it could be Christina. She may need me. I slide out from under the blanket and pull on a pair of jeans. I run a hand through my hair as I pull the door open.

A frazzled Red
is standing there looking up at me with the saddest eyes. Her hair is a mess haphazardly piled on top of her head. Her face is clean and fresh with no makeup and my heart starts to hammer in my chest. If she wasn’t so upset, I’m sure she would be able to hear it.

We
stand for what seems like a full minute staring at each other before she tells me, “It’s Meyer. H-he was upset last night when he came back to the hotel. Now he’s gone. I don’t know where he went.”

I rem
ember the last I saw of him the night before when I blew him off. “Do you want to come in?”

As she
walks through the open door, I wrestle with myself.
Why the hell should I help her? She’s here with Meyer and he’s nothing but bad news.
She turns back to me once the door is securely closed and my breath catches at the sight of her. The strength she displays without even knowing it. I know in that instant that I would help her fly to the moon if that’s what she wanted. The feelings I had so long ago to protect her surface full force and I want to take away anything that causes her grief.

“Where should we start to look for him? I went by Mills Pond first
but he wasn’t there. Is there anywhere else he could be?”

I snap to my
senses, staring at her. This is Meyer she’s trying to find. She came here
with
my childhood friend who had so much to do with me losing five years of my life. I shake my head and go into the kitchen. I suddenly need the warmth of coffee or anything to distract me. My hands itch to grab her and pull her body flush with mine so I can taste those perfect lips. I can only imagine how sweet they must be. Instead my focus is on getting coffee to qualm my body, trying to distance myself as far as I can. Something must be wrong with me if this woman affects me this much.

My chest heaves
and I slam the door to the cabinet after taking the bag of coffee from the shelf. Concentrating on the routine of filling the water section and pushing buttons, I don’t hear her speaking.

Her forceful tone takes me away from the
task as she states loudly, “Greylan, did you hear me? I was talking to you.” Her voice turns angry. “Why do you seem so intent on being such an ass? Your friend is missing. I don’t know what you said to him last night, but he came back to the hotel pissed, and now I’m sure, based on your reaction, that it was because of something you said to him.”

I spin around on my
heel, blood surging through my veins. Everything comes to a halt when I look at her determined face but I gather my thoughts and hiss at her, “Don’t blame this shit on me, lady, it’s not me he’s fighting with. It’s that bitch called guilt and he deserves it.” The momentum carries me away. “You know what? I really don’t give a shit where Meyer is. Let him leave. That’s what he does best, anyway. He walks away when you need him the most without a backward glance.”

I turn back
to the counter and brace my hands in a tight grip. My breathing is broken. A moment later I hear the front door slam.
Fuck, Grey, what’d you do?

I rush to the door. As it opens I watch
a red corvette speed down the drive out of the complex.
Shit, shit.

Back in
my room I shove a T-shirt on over my head and grab my phone and keys, almost running to the truck. The whole way out of the neighborhood I curse myself for doing this.
Why the fuck should I care what happens to Meyer? Who the hell is she, waltzing into my home and demanding I help her find the shithead?

I maneuver
the truck through the familiar streets. The reality of where I’m headed hits as I make the last turn, facing my past and my present. The truck gains distance on the two lane road and unintentionally my foot rises from the gas pedal. I have second thoughts, reasoning that Brutus’ would be the last place Meyer would go. But as the truck inches closer at a snail’s pace, I know that is exactly where Meyer would go.
Damn you, Meyer, for making me do this.

As
I park my hands on the steering wheel, my eyes lock on the bar front. The neon has changed from five years ago. It’s pink and blue now in fancy lettering. It figures Brutus would open up at the crack of dawn, nothing like a whiskey to wake up a drunk. My breathing becomes shallow and I doubt I’ll be able to leave the truck. The familiar images start playing through my head; the alley, dark and full of foul smelling garbage, the brick wall lining one side, a scream in the silence. My vision jumps to my arm moving forward. I want more than anything to stop it. I try to focus on my other hand, but as it did five years ago and hundreds of times since, my fist makes contact and the sound that follows makes me want to vomit. I slip out of the truck, landing on my hands and knees. My stomach dry heaves continuously as my breathing slows and the numbness follows, flowing through my body. I remain in that position for a few minutes trying to get a grip. The nightmare has never hit me this hard during the day.

I look
up at the bar directly in front of me. My heart starts to speed up again. Slowly I gather enough strength, reasoning that I need to do this for Mollie, not Meyer - Mollie. Carefully I stand, bracing my hand on the side of the truck. I look back down the street, wishing I could retreat back to the apartment and forget about her. My eyes swing back to the bar and I focus on putting one foot in front of the other. The space between me and the door shortens with each step and the doubts that I can do this rise in my stomach again.
I’m such a pussy. I’m such a pussy.
I repeat this mantra over and over, trying to motivate myself into the bar.

As I finally reach
for the handle, the door swings out to reveal Meyer with a shitty grin across his face. That’s all I needed. My body lurches forward with a fist swinging into Meyer’s stomach. Meyer doubles over, bracing himself on his knees from the hit. He states, “I definitely deserved that.” He looks back up. “Are you finished?”

I
’m so mad I can barely see straight. I’m pissed that Meyer made me come back here. Broken, that the one woman that has ever affected me, is here with this douche bag. I shake my head in response and grab Meyer’s arm, pulling him through the doorway. He doesn’t protest. I want to spit in his face. I clench my fists instead, itching to hit him again. He juts his chin out and exclaims, pointing to the side, “Here, Grey, right here - it’ll make you feel better.”

My feet step back
, a moment of uncertainty passing through my mind. I shake my head while Meyer taunts with slurred speech, “Right here, just hit me, right here. I deserve it.”

My eyes narrow i
n a glare as my hand clenches again and I push it into Meyer’s face. This time he falls to his knees, coughing through the blood running out of his nose. He laughs, “You’ve got some right hook. Feel better now?”

I turn to go back to the
truck but Meyer calls out from his perch on the ground, “Wait, Grey, don’t go. I know I was wrong. Please, let me try and make it up to you.”

My feet halt as I begin cursing him
. “Fuck, Meyer.”

“I know
, I’m a fuck up. Just give me one more chance, Grey. I think I might be able to make things better. I
know
I can make things better.”

My body
spins back and I stare at his hovering figure. I force my legs forward to help him to his feet. He releases a stifled laugh, his breath still coming out broken with blood seeping into his mouth. “I knew you’d give me a chance. You’re too good, Grey.”

I shake my head
, turning both of us towards the bar. I take a deep breath, preparing for whatever emotions will hit me once we enter that door. My grip on Meyer’s arm tightens but he doesn’t seem to notice.

As we
enter, dull lighting greets us. I look around, noting nothing on the inside has changed. Brutus calls out from behind the bar, “Well, if it ain’t Greylan Pace. ‘Bout time you showed your face around here.”

Instead of dread
, as I had expected, warmth spreads through me at the familiarity of the bar. I forgot how much Brutus was a part of my past. The big man skirts around the bar and grabs me in a bear hug. He’s always been bigger than me but I notice Brutus’ gut has grown over the years. When we part, I tell him, “Glad to see you still standing.”

Brutis brushe
s it off. “Shit, boy, did you learn nothing growing up round here? I’m gonna be buried in this here spot just to make sure this place stands for another hundred years. They ain’t gonna be able to get rid of me even after I’m dead and in the ground.”

A chuckle leaves as I angle
for a stool beside Meyer. He’s holding a rag full of blood up to his nose. This makes me smile.
Serves him right.

Meyer looks at the smir
k on my face. “So did you go for my nose because you felt lonely having the only swollen beak around? Why couldn’t you just go for my jaw like I told you to?”

I ignore him and
grab the whiskey Brutus has placed in front of me. I hold it up, considering a toast. “To…” Meyer holds his own glass up in anticipation, wide eyed. I shake my head once again. “Damn, I can’t think of anything. Maybe to shitty friends.” I tip the glass back and down the contents, slamming it back against the smooth wood for a refill.

Meyer drinks his own, all smugness gone. He looks down to the bar and up a
t Brutus. He speaks to no one in particular. “I remember when we used to come here after school, our junior year. We tried to get Brutus to serve us. Every day we were sure he would break but he stuck to his guns. Remember, Grey?”

Brutu
s eyes both of us, responding, “Yeah, and look at both of you now. If I would have contributed to this back then, just think, you might be sittin’ round here with black eyes and missing teeth in addition to your broken noses.”

My voice is quiet when I respond
, “They’re not broken, just swollen.”

Brutu
s leans across the bar and pours more whiskey into my glass while meeting my stare. “Grey, you need to figure things out. You’ve been through a ton of shit in your life. No one would wish that on anyone, but now you have a chance. Don’t mess it up, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

I look
away, unable to face him. I can’t forgive myself for so many things. Fighting - pro fighting - I can’t lose that, too. Brutus is right, I’d lose my sanity if I didn’t have fighting.

Meyer says nonchalantly, “Can we get down to business, or do you want to beat my ass some more?”

I frown, swinging my gaze to the idiot. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Dude, I can get you the top fights. That’s really why I’m here. I couldn’t tell you last night because you weren’t pro yet. But now, the sky’s the limit.”

My thoughts are suddenly all over the place. Meyer in the fighting business?
How did I miss this?

Meyer continues, “I work for
some higher ups. I can get you some top fights if you agree to go along with what I say.”

This pisses me off. I shift in the
seat to get a good look at him. His face is a mess. Besides his nose swollen to twice its size, his eyes are surrounded with deep grey indents. The guy really hasn’t been to bed yet.

“Okay
, Meyer, I’ll bite. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You always did have a way with words
, Grey. I’m talking big fights, Parker Harris fights.”

My face cringes
at the name spewed from his mouth. I know Parker is the top of my weight class. If I face my sister’s fiancé and win,
I
am the top. But Trinity’s sweet face pops into my head. If I take the road all the way up, what will happen to my relationship with her? Will she hate me for knocking Parker off his pedestal?

“Yo, Grey, you there?”

I look at Meyer. He muses, “Thought I lost ya there for a minute. You know you can’t go straight for Harris right away, don’t you? Of course you do. You have to make the climb, but I can make it happen sooner than it would if you just keep on with Jackson’s match ups.”

“How do you know I’m training with Jackson?”
My voice is angry.

Meyer laughs
. “Dude, that’s my job. I know more than you think.”