The Price We Pay (6 page)

I sat up in the chair. “A favor? I haven’t heard from you in six months.”

“You know I’m working a case.”

“I’m your sister!”

Jaxon and I grew up in the same foster home since he was twelve and I was ten. Technically, we weren’t related but we had an instant connection, and he’s always been my older brother. My pain in the ass older brother.

“And that’s why I need a favor.”

“I’m busy,” I shot back while watching Pacer sit back on the couch, turning the TV down. How sweet was that? Very sweet.

“Doing what?” he asked.

“I’m masturbating.”

Pacer spit beer everywhere and I couldn’t help but laugh at him. Jaxon didn’t find it amusing though and continued to bother me.

“I need you to go shopping for some woman shit. I’ll send a list via text and where to meet me when you’ve got them.”

I watched Pacer clean himself up and wished I were the one licking the beer off his arm.

“You have a girl now?” I asked Jaxon trying to distract myself. He’s not much of a dater, but neither am I.

“I guess you could say that.”

“It has to be done tonight?” I whined not wanting to leave yet.

He grunted, “Yeah.”

“Fine, but you owe me.”

“You owe me more,” he shot back.

I did owe him. A lot. He’s bailed me out of some shit, and when I say shit, I mean jail. It wasn’t my fault, though; I was just defending someone.

“Send the list.”

“That’s what I thought.”

I laughed, told him to fuck off, and hung up on him. The text came a few minutes later and I couldn’t help but laugh. Tampons. That was hilarious. I couldn’t imagine him shopping for tampons, ever. It didn’t matter who the girl was.

I stood from the chair. “You want to go shopping with me?” I’m not sure why I asked, but I couldn’t keep the words from tumbling out of my mouth.

He looked up at me, surprised. I didn’t blame him.

“I tend to do things without thinking and then rationalize it after the fact. My brother’s afraid to buy tampons for his girl and he’s asked me to get them for him.”

“So you want me to go tampon shopping with you?”

I looked at the text message again. He wanted three pairs of sweat pants. One size medium and two sized small. Six t-shirts, socks, underwear…

“Jesus,” I muttered, shoving the phone back in my pocket.

“Everything okay,” he asked, standing from the couch.

“My brother’s up to something.”

“What does he do?”

“It’s classified.”

“We need to talk, so yeah, I guess I’m in.”

I picked up my camera and headed to the front door. “It’s not a date.”

“I need to know what Miranda’s up to.”

Crap.

Pacer

“What about the chick that just left here?” she asked.

“My trainer’s sister, she keeps us on schedule.”

I’ve known some crazy ass chicks in my time but this one seems different. Very different. Like she’s legit crazy, and it was okay. I let her stay in my home, eat my food, and drink my beer. I don’t like many people so tonight was out of the normal for me.

It kind of felt natural with her being here, like something that wasn’t forced or faked.

One, two, three, four
… I started counting my steps

This whole thing was all kinds of fucked up and now I’m going shopping with her. There must be something wrong with me.

Oh wait, there is.

Five, six, seven, eight…

She did have a nice ass, though. Her blue jean shorts were short, frayed, and uneven like she had cut them herself. It bothered me, them being uneven, but I reminded myself that I wasn’t the one wearing them.

“You’re driving,” she told me while I locked the front deadbolt. I twisted the handle four times to make sure it was locked.

“Where’s your car?” I asked glancing around the tree I saw her hiding behind earlier.

“I have a bike around the corner I’ll grab.”

“Motorcycle?”

She laughed, “No. A bicycle.”

“Really?”

I unlocked my black Chevy truck, opened her door, and watched her climb in.

I shut her door, walked around the truck, and joined her. She set her camera in the back seat and I put my seat belt on, then turned the truck on.

“I don’t drive. No license.”

“That’s different.”

She shrugged. “I’m different.”

“Yeah you are.”

She showed me where she hid her bicycle and I put it in the back of my truck, and then we headed to the store.

“I’m going tampon shopping with you and I don’t even know your name.”

“Laken. Laken Thorne.”

It was a beautiful name.

“Don’t worry,” I glanced at her and watch her soft lips move. “I already know your name.”

Something inside me felt happy that she was happy. I could see myself hanging out with her again, which was rare. “About Miranda…”

“I took your advice. Fired myself.”

“Good, that bitch is crazy.”

“She seemed nice.”

“I thought the same.”

“She’s not getting a refund.”

“I’d keep the money if I were you.”

“Glad we agree,” she said smiling. I think she’s been smiling this whole time.

I took her to a twenty-four-hour store, which was only a few miles from my house while she read the list to me.

“Seems like your brother has more than one woman,” I commented.

“Something’s up and I’m going to find out what.”

I ran around the truck to open her door.

One, two, three, four
… I counted my steps until we got in the store, and started over once I began pushing the cart.

I followed her around the store pushing it while she tossed things in it. I counted every item she put in the cart and we were up to twenty-one. Buying tampons didn’t bother me; I’d do it if I had someone worth my time. Right now, she’s worth my time, plus I didn’t actually have to get them.

She texted her brother a few more times and then we went and bought underwear.

This whole thing was weird and now there were twenty-three items in the cart. It needed to be an even number. We needed another item.

Counting the items in the basket made me lose count of my footsteps. It happens, and when it does, I have to start over. All my numbers had to be even, whether it meant taking an extra step or throwing an unnecessary pack of gum into my shopping cart. Right now it was the worst possible scenario for me. My steps were odd; every time we stopped, it was an odd number. Compounding that with the odd number in the cart, and I felt my hands shake and my head spin. Frustrated, I just stopped in the middle of the aisle to calm my racing thoughts. I needed a reset button.

“Everything okay?”

I looked into her light green eyes that were genuinely concerned. How was I supposed to explain myself to her when I didn’t understand myself most of the time? I’ve tried counseling at a young age and they wanted me on pills. Fuck that. I learned to live with it. Now that my parents were both gone, the only other person who knows how my brain functions is my trainer.

I count, I clean, and I fight. That’s how I deal with life.

“Fine.”

“Thinking about the next fight?” she asked and I wondered if she followed me prior to the Miranda situation, or was she a new fan.

“It’s a few months out and I’ve fought him before.”

“Did you win?”

I smiled.

“With a smile like that…you won,” she commented with a knowing smirk.

She started piling everything on the conveyor belt and I recounted the items. It was still twenty-three. I grabbed yet another pack of unnecessary gum to add to my collection and tossed it on and pulled out my wallet. In the back of my head, I knew I had four packs of Winterfresh, six packs of Orbit, and two packs of Juicyfruit. This pack she would have to take.

“You’re not paying.”

“I’m getting gum.”

“My brother’s paying me back for this shit, don’t worry about it.”

“I’ve got it,” I said a little harsher and she took a step back away from the register pulling out her cell phone. She answered it and walked away so I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I let out a deep breath, twenty-four items. The hardest thing was knowing the total and I avoided it at all costs. Sometimes, unconsciously, I estimate the total in my head. When that total is odd, and my items are even, it fucks with me the worst. I’ve left the store over that shit. I hated shopping and my sister did it for me most of the time so I didn’t have to deal with the numbers. It was always about the fucking numbers.

The items ended up in six bags, which was good because I didn’t want her to see me put anything in another bag or freak out because of the odd number of bags.

“We’re good,” I muttered when I passed her.

Four, five, six …

She was still on the phone but was done by the time we got back to the truck.

Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight…

I opened her door and after she was in, I tossed the bags in the backseat by her camera.

“My brother’s not happy with me so just ignore his attitude when we meet up,” she told me after I started the truck up.

“What’d you do?”

“I’m bringing you but don’t worry about it. He’s a big guy but you could take him.”

“I can wait in the truck.”

“True.”

I had music on and she was texting someone but we didn’t talk during the ten minutes it took to get to her brother. I pulled into the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour diner and she pointed towards a black van parked off in the corner of the lot. It had no windows on the side and two men exited the truck when I parked.

“I’ll be right back.”

She jumped out and grabbed the bags.

I could hear them talking but couldn’t make out the words because they were standing too far away. He tossed them in the van and slammed the door shut. Then I heard the other man, the one talking to Laken, yell something. She stomped to my door and opened it.

“He wants to meet you,” she said, annoyed.

“Who?”

“My brother.” She pointed at the man she had been talking to. “I think he’s got a bigger crush on you than I do.” She walked away and I climbed out of the truck.

One, two, three, four …

She has a crush on me?

“Holy shit! It really is you,” he yelled, and I shook his hand. “Jaxon.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Latch man, it’s him!”

Latch wanted nothing to do with our conversation, as he kept texting on his phone.

I loved my fans but usually, they were women or young men who idolized me and wanted to be me when they grew up. Jaxon was taller and larger than I was, but Laken was right, I could take him.

“I’m a huge fan but have missed some fights over the last two years.”

“It’s okay. I appreciate the support.”

“You’re Pacer fucking Daniels!”

Laken snorted and shifted on her feet. “No shit. Are we done?”

“Don’t be rude, Laken.”

“Fuck off.”

He grinned at her and swooped her up in a hug. “My favorite sister. What would I do without you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, buy your own tampons? You owe me big, mister.”

“I do, but only because you brought him,” he said glancing at me. Jaxon was a little larger than Latch and I knew from experience they were well trained. They held themselves with authority and confidence.

“Where’s your bike?” Jaxon asked Laken.

“In the back of the truck.”

Jaxon looked at me. “Bring her and the bike home.” He didn’t order me, but I knew he was concerned about his sister. It was at least midnight and I wouldn’t let her ride it in the dark anyway.

“Not a problem,” I told him and Laken smirked at him.

“Go home,” he told her.

“Are you going another six months without talking to me?”

He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fine,” she spun around, “whatever.”

She started walking away and Jaxon yelled, “I love you!”

“It hasn’t been six months!” she yelled back.

“Let’s get this shit to Marvey,” Latch said frustrated, opening his door.

Jaxon thanked me and told me he’d try to catch my next match before we got back in our vehicles. Laken was muttering to herself, cursing under her breath when I got in the truck.

I started the truck and waited for them to leave.

“Wait a minute!” She tossed the seatbelt aside and slid over next to me. Her leg was touching my leg, her arm touching my arm. Her sweet, soft scent tickled my nose. This was the first time I was this close to her, and I wanted to kiss her.