The Brick Yard (17 page)

“She won’t leave until she gets what she’s come for.” Lucky pulled out his wallet and checked to see how much money he had. Not much, but he’d give her all of it if she’d go away. He glanced back at Jax who was still picking pink strands off his shirt. “Sorry, but it might be a while before I can clean this up.”

Jax bit his bottom lip and looked around. “Don’t worry. I’ll do it.”

Lucky turned to leave the room, but Jax stopped him.

“You want me to come with you?” Jax asked.

Lucky wanted to say yes because nothing good ever happened when he was alone with his mom, but he couldn’t drag Jax into his bullshit. He walked back over and gave Jax’s forehead a quick peck. “Thanks, but I don’t want you anywhere near her.”

Lucky spotted his mom from across the gym. It never ceased to amaze him how small she actually was now that he was grown. As a kid, the sight of her looming over him with anger in her eyes had scared the shit out of him. Dray spoke of demons and monsters, but it was his own mother’s face that haunted Lucky’s nightmares.

The closer he got to his mom, the more different she looked. She seemed to hold herself straighter and her eyes appeared normal. Her fiery red hair was clean and pulled back into a ponytail.

“Mom,” Lucky said once he was close enough. He still wasn’t sure why he bothered calling the woman Mom since she’d never been a real mother, but calling her by her given name of Alana seemed wrong as well.

“I wanted to come by and let you know I’m out and to apologize for not seeing you when you came to visit. I’ve been working a program, and I wanted to make sure I could stay clean before I saw you again,” Alana said. She took a step toward Lucky and lifted her palm to his face. “What have you done to yourself?”

Lucky pulled his head back, breaking the connection between them. “Are you hungry?”

Alana nodded.

Lucky opened the door of the gym and gestured for his mom to turn left. They walked to Mac’s in silence. Once they were seated in his regular booth, he felt more at ease. He hadn’t been in Mac’s since the argument, but at that moment, he needed the comfort of the diner more than he needed to hold onto the anger he felt toward its owner. “Order whatever you want.”

Alana began to scan the menu. “I’m staying at a halfway house. Hopefully, I’ll be able to make the transition this time without slipping back into my old ways.”

“That’s good, Mom.” Lucky sat with his back against the wall, thrumming his fingers against the table.

Connie, one of the lunch-hour waitresses stopped at the table. “Hey, Lucky.” She glanced up from her tablet. “Wow. I take it you finally lost a fight?”

Lucky didn’t bother answering the question. “I’ll have a double bacon cheeseburger, fries and a Coke.”

“Really?” Trish’s jaw dropped. “I’ve never known you to order anything off the menu.”

Lucky shrugged. “Trying something different.” He didn’t tell her that after the fight he’d had with Mac, he doubted the owner would want to cook him his usual meal of steak and grilled vegetables.

Connie looked to Alana. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have the hot beef sandwich with mashed potatoes and a glass of water,” Alana said before placing her menu back against the wall.

After Connie had left, Alana started talking again. “Anyway, I’ll be at the halfway house for another two months. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get a job and find another apartment.”

Lucky continued to nod his head, but he looked everywhere except at his mom. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe she would stay clean for a change, he simply found he didn’t care. No, that wasn’t completely true. The more Alana talked about making a new life for herself, the angrier he became.

A plate landed in front of him with a clatter.

Lucky gaze shot up to see Mac’s scowling face.

“What the fuck’re you doing eating that shit?” Mac asked.

“You made it. You calling your own food shit?” Lucky asked. Even to himself he sounded like a smartass teenager.

Mac leaned against the table and put his face a few inches from Lucky’s. “You know what I’m talking about,” he growled.

Lucky flicked his fingers toward Alana. “Mac, I’d like you to meet Alana Gunn, my mom. Mom, this is Mac, the man who made sure I didn’t go to bed hungry when there was nothing in our house to eat because you’d bartered the food stamps for booze and drugs.” He said it in a rush before pushing Mac out of his way. He dug into his wallet and pulled out every bill he had and tossed them on the table. “Take the cost of the meal out of it and keep the rest,” he told his mom.

Lucky had just made it outside when a large hand clamped onto his shoulder. He spun around to find Mac staring at him. “I’m not in the mood, Mac.”

“Yeah, I figured that out all on my own.” Mac released his hold on Lucky. “Does your mood have something to do with your mom showing up?”

Lucky rolled his eyes. “What do you think? She’s going on and on about being clean and how her life is going to be so much different now. Hell, she even said something about getting a fucking job that didn’t involve her spreading her legs or dealing dope to school kids.” His throat started to tighten but he forced the anguish down. His mom didn’t deserve his tears.

Mac’s expression softened. “I think the best thing you can do is to wish her well and send her on her way.”

“Yeah.” Lucky looked through the window to see Alana calmly eating her lunch. “I want to hate her.”

“Of course you do.” Mac waved Lucky to the side of the building. “I think it’s time we talked about a few things.”

“Don’t you need to cook?” The last thing Lucky wanted was another talk with Mac. The last one had nearly destroyed him.

Mac continued to walk until they reached the back of the diner. He motioned for Lucky to have a seat on one of the old milk crates as he sat on another. Forearms resting on his knees, Mac leaned forward and stared at the crumbling asphalt under his feet. “I had a son,” he began.

That announcement caught Lucky’s attention. “Had?”

Mac nodded. “I was a shitty father—too young, I suppose. I didn’t marry his mom because the thought of being tied down didn’t appeal to me.” He took off the white knit hat he always wore and crumpled it in his hands. “I saw Jake from time to time, nothing that he could count on, mind ya, but I was around.” He glanced up and met Lucky’s gaze. “He joined a gang when he was thirteen. His mom tried to tell me that it was my responsibility to set him straight, but I was too busy fucking up my own life to give him advice. I figured he’d grow out of the thug way of life eventually, but he didn’t make it that far. He was killed in a drive-by a month before his fifteenth birthday.”

“Shit,” Lucky mumbled.

“I didn’t tell you so you’d feel sorry for me,” Mac grumbled. “I don’t deserve your pity or anyone else’s. I certainly don’t deserve your praise for feedin’ ya. We all have to pay for the mistakes we’ve made along the way, and me giving out leftovers is one way I do that. I ride your ass all the time because I don’t want to make the same mistakes I made with my boy and when I see you fucking up, I wanna set you on the right path, even if I have to push ass.”

“The shit that you said to me the other night really got to me,” Lucky admitted. “I guess I always thought of you and Brick as being on my side.” He kicked at a chunk of asphalt. “When you told me you no longer believed in me, it hurt.”

“Yeah, I know it did.” Mac scrubbed at his face with his palms. “I don’t think fighting’s the right path for you anymore, and I couldn’t live with myself if I just let you continue down that road and something serious happened to you or someone else.”

“But fighting’s what I love to do,” Lucky argued.

Mac shoved his hat back on his head before reaching over to grab Lucky’s wrists. “I need you to do one thing for me. Search your soul, and figure out why you love to fight. I’m not talking about the bullshit you hand Brick and everyone else. I’m asking you to dig deep and come up with the real answer.”

“You say that like you already know.” Lucky pulled his hands back, breaking the contact.

“I think I do, but what I think doesn’t matter. You’ve gotta come up with your own truth.” Mac got to his feet. “I’d better get back. No doubt Connie’s fixing to skin me alive.”

“Mac?” Lucky called out before Mac could disappear.

“Yeah?”

“How’d you come to own this place?” After the story Mac’d told, Lucky had a hard time understanding how the man had gone from being a worthless father to owning his own diner.

Mac grinned. “You don’t think Dray was the first person Brick helped, do ya?” He walked back into the diner without another word.

Left stupefied by Mac’s parting words, Lucky slowly shook his head. Was there anyone in Chicago that Brick hadn’t saved in one way or another? He rested his head against the wall and stared up at the sliver of sky he could see between the buildings. “What the fuck?” he asked God. “Why the hell’re you taking away the one angel this neighborhood has?”

* * * *

Lucky entered Brick’s apartment to find Brick and Dray watching old videos of Dray’s UFC matches. “Hey.” He dropped his gym bag on the floor and took off his shoes. It had been a while since he’d watched Dray fight. In the beginning, when Brick had been trying to teach Lucky proper skills, he’d used the videos as training guides.

“Sit down and learn something,” Brick wheezed.

Lucky joined Dray on the couch, his gaze riveted on the television. Brick had always been right about Dray’s skills. They were perfect. Watching Dray land punches and kicks in equal measure had Lucky involuntarily rubbing the scar on his calf through his thin sweat pants.

“You sore?” Dray asked.

“Huh?” Lucky wasn’t sure what Dray was talking about. “I’m fine.”

Dray gestured to Lucky’s leg. “So what’s up with your calf?”

Lucky jerked his hand away. “I’m fine. Just a habit.”

“There,” Brick said. “Did you see that combination?”

“Sorry. I missed it,” Lucky replied.

“Well pay attention!” Brick’s yell was followed by a series of coughs.

Lucky used the time to get up and scoop Gatsby out of Brick’s lap. He kissed the kitten’s head. “Did you feed her?” he asked Dray.

Dray nodded. “I wasn’t sure what time you’d be here, so I fed her about an hour ago.” He pointed to Lucky’s leg. “So what’s the deal with the leg?”

“Nothing.” Lucky carried Gatsby into the kitchen. He looked into the pot on the stove. “Can I have some of this chili?”

“Sure, but I have to warn you, Flint made it and dropped it by.” Dray chuckled. “Despite that, it was pretty damn good.”

Lucky set Gatsby down and spooned up a bowl. He added a healthy dose of hot sauce and grabbed a bottle of water before going back into the living room. He’d been trying to figure out a way to tell Brick and Dray about his day, so he decided to just spit it out. “My mom came by the gym today,” he announced.

For the first time since Lucky had come into the apartment, Brick tore his gaze away from the television. He reached for the remote and turned off the set. “What’d you say?”

“Mom came to the gym. Evidently she’s clean and sober and ready to be a decent person for the first time in her miserable life.” Lucky concentrated on his dinner, so he couldn’t see Brick or Dray’s reaction, but he didn’t have to wait long.

“I don’t want that bitch in my gym,” Brick declared.

“I know. I took her to Mac’s to get something to eat,” Lucky said around a bite of chili.

“So why’re you eating now?” Dray asked.

“Because I didn’t stay long enough to touch my food.” Lucky glanced at Dray. He wanted to talk to Dray about his discussion with Mac, but not in front of Brick. “Anyway,” he began, returning to his dinner, “Mom’s staying at a halfway house for the next two months. She didn’t ask for it, but I have a feeling she’s going to want money. I gave her what I had, but she’ll be back.”

“Don’t give her a dime more.” Brick turned his gaze on Lucky. “You don’t owe her anything.”

Lucky shrugged. It was a long running argument between him and Brick, and although he understood Brick’s position, Lucky had been trained since birth to put his mother’s needs before his own. It was a hard habit to break, even if he understood how unhealthy it was. Forget cigarettes, booze and drugs. He was addicted to pain—the kind of pain that only a mother could dole out.

Appetite gone, he stood and carried his bowl to the kitchen. He scraped the uneaten chili into the garbage before washing his dishes and putting them back into the cupboard. He jumped when he felt a warm hand on his lower back and glanced over his shoulder to see Dray. “Hey.”

“You okay?” Dray asked.

“Tired.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He was tired of everything, and what he really needed was to fight. Pulling out of the tournament suddenly felt like a very bad idea. He’d done it to spend time with Brick, but he was quickly figuring out that he needed that release to keep sane. “I think I’ll go back to the gym for a while and work the speed bag.”

Dray settled his hands on Lucky’s hips and pressed against his back. “Why don’t we go for a run instead? I could use some exercise.”

“What about Brick?” Lucky turned to face Dray.

“We’ll turn the fight back on. Brick’ll never miss us.” Dray gave Lucky a soft kiss, slipping his tongue inside for the briefest moment.

Lucky licked his lips. “Okay, but I want to stop by the gym afterward to check on Jax.”

“I’ll get changed.” Dray kissed Lucky again before walking out of the kitchen.

Lucky waited long enough for his erection to subside before re-entering the living room. “Dray and I are going for a run,” he told Brick. “You need anything before we go?”

Brick looked up at Lucky. “Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

Lucky wasn’t sure what Brick was asking, but it didn’t really matter. “No,” he answered honestly. “I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.”

* * * *

After a five-mile run, Dray felt the burn in his calf muscles as he walked alongside Lucky toward The Brick Yard. He glanced up and saw a light on in Mac’s apartment over the diner, “I was surprised to hear you took your mom to Mac’s. I thought the two of you weren’t speaking.”