Let Go (17 page)

Jackson pulls
into the lot of Lara’s Landing at exactly five o’clock. He
maneuvers his truck into a space and slips out into the setting
sun. The toothpick constantly in the corner of his mouth shifts
from one side to the other, the remnants of his addictive
personality. He knew ten years ago when he quit smoking that he
would be able to overcome the nicotine addiction but not having
something for his mouth to do in its absence, was something
else.

He makes his
way up the stone path to the bottom floor apartment on the right.
His knock echoes down the long cool hall. Greylan answers with a
pull on the door. One look and Jackson knows he’s still fighting
some stuff. It seems today is worse than most days. When Greylan
showed up earlier he attributed it to nerves about the fight. This
is the precipice on which he failed five years ago. Seeing him
again there must be more than just his nerves.

He dismisses
it because the last thing he needs is Greylan rattled before this
fight. If he hasn’t figured it all out up to now, a few hours won’t
help even if he would be willing to open up, which Jackson doubts
is a possibility. He’s locked up tight.

He claps
Greylan on the shoulder and asks, “So Champ, you ready?”

Greylan nods
taking a deep breath.

“This is it
Grey, for all of us. Just know we’ll all be there to support you. I
know you’re ready for this. I was thinking today that maybe back
then it just wasn’t your time. Maybe tonight is your time.”

Greylan looks
down his nose at Jackson and claims, “Jax, don’t start that shit
with me. Christina and Trinity give me enough positive thinking
crap. I let you pick me up cause you insisted. If you’re gonna be a
pussy ass, I’ll drive myself.”

Jackson
chuckles, “Aren’t those my lines you’re throwing back at me?”

“Whatever
dude, let’s just get this thing done.”

“Sure thing.
You ready?”

Greylan nods
and follows Jackson out to his custom painted metallic blue, Chevy
truck. If there were ever a time he’s happy to ride with someone
else, it’s tonight. Regardless of the outcome, having Jackson’s
support at the end of the night means more to Greylan than he could
possibly know.

The drive to
the coast is long and silent. Jackson doesn’t try to put words out
there that don’t need to be and Greylan is thankful. Too much shit
runs through his head. He knows he needs to get it together. But he
keeps picturing her at the pond today. Red, the way her name rolls
through his head. He leans back closing his eyes and instead of
pushing her away he traces the outline of her face in his mind, her
long bright hair that he itched to touch today. He lifts his head
watching the landscape as they get closer to his fight. What the
hell is it about this woman that is different? Meyer, that’s what’s
different. She’s off limits because of Meyer. As pissed off as he
is at the ass wipe, he would never touch what’s his. A deep breath
escapes him as he comes to terms with his thoughts.

He rests his
head again and clenches his fists. He thinks about Meyer with
Mollie and Parker with Trinity trying to bring about just the right
amount of irritation. This is what he needs to get through the
night, something to focus on and someone to beat the shit out
of.

As they enter
the warehouse a steady stream of people are pouring into the seats
lined up around the cage. Greylan looks across the broad room at
that symbol of his life. It means everything to him. Just fifteen
minutes and he’s either on top or not going to continue with this.
He follows Jackson into the small room they label as a locker room.
One wall is lined with portable lockers they bring in just for the
fights. He finds one and fastens his lock onto the handle. He
breathes deeply as he tries to focus on nothing. He changes into
his shorts and removes his shirt. A wooden bench leans against the
opposite wall. He skirts around the other fighters and situates
himself on the far side knowing that Trinity will show up soon.

A half an hour
later, as Greylan is concentrating only on breathing, Jackson leads
Trinity into the room. Greylan stands pulling her into his chest.
He asks over her head, “Do you think you might want to watch
tonight?”

She pulls away
and looks up into his questioning face, “I can’t Grey. I’m not,
ready. But, I’ll make a deal with you.”

“What’s
that?”

“If you win, I
mean,
when
you win tonight. I’ll watch your first pro fight.
It will mean a lot for both of us so I’ll go out there and watch
and wince every time you get punched and kicked but I’ll do it for
you.”

He moves his
hand up to her face and squishes her nose with his finger. She
laughs and hugs him tightly. Her feet move around the bench as she
finds a spot to sit for the long haul. Greylan sinks beside her
letting the silence spread. This is the moment he savors. Right
before he must go out into the screaming crowds. While minutes
spread and he doesn’t have to speak or think with his sister there
supporting him. He squeezes Trinity’s hand while they wait closing
his eyes intent on focusing on nothing.

A voice calls
through the stillness, “Greylan Pace you’re up.”

One last
squeeze from Trinity and his eyes pop open as he stands. He takes a
deep breath and looks over to his sister. She smiles encouraging,
“Do this Grey, I know you can. No regrets.”

He nods and
turns walking the distance to the cage. Yelling and screaming ring
through the room as he steps up onto the platform leading to the
gate. Jackson grasps his arm asking, “You ready Champ?”

Greylan nods
one last time before he fits his guard into his mouth and enters
the octagon. He forces air in and out through his nose. The other
man, Mark Gaines, on the other side of the blue mat is a foot
taller than Greylan but thinner with buzzed dark hair. His arms
bulge as he flexes and dances around his side of the cage. Greylan
moves his feet in the dance forcing his heart to speed up. This is
the fight that decides which one of them will move up.

Greylan surges
forward as a whistle signals the beginning of the round. Mark
glares across the mat and moves his leg in a roundhouse kick
connecting with Greylan’s arm. He lifts it just in time to block
the kick, aimed at his face. He shakes it out and swings at Mark’s
chin with a balled fist. Mark moves his arms up causing Greylan’s
knuckles to fall away. Greylan moves around him lowering his body
as if he’s a bull about to attack and surges forward forcing his
shoulder into Mark’s abdomen. It’s unexpected; Mark falls through
the air as if weightless for seconds. His back hits the mat causing
the air to rush from his lungs. Greylan takes advantage and lunges
on top of him pounding into Mark’s sides with rounded strikes. His
knuckles brace as each hit vibrates through his arms. Mark seems to
wake up as the air rushes back in. He moves his arms forcing them
into Greylan’s face. Greylan’s assault stops as he tries to keep
his position but the force of Mark’s body causes Greylan to fall
backwards. He knows it was a mistake. He had the upper hand and now
he scurries to his feet again. Mark steps onto the balls of his
toes and lunges at Greylan. The force pushes him into the metal of
the cage, the links digging into his back. His arms brace in a
clinch around Mark’s neck as if they are embracing. But Greylan
uses the fence to gain momentum. He thrusts forward, his clenched
fists landing in Mark’s torso. He takes a step out of the clinch
allowing Greylan to elbow him in the chest. Mark collapses on
contact. The referee blows the whistle when the time limit is
reached and a decision is made, Greylan wins the round.

His breathing
heaves as he aims for the other side of the cage. Jackson tells him
through the linked metal, “That was great Pace. You know the drill,
only two more to go.”

Greylan stares
across the mat at his opponent who is now standing heaving, trying
to catch his breath. The referee has his arm in his grasp and he’s
asking him something. No doubt in Greylan’s mind, whether he can go
on. Mark nods, making Greylan satisfied that he will continue. His
glance swings the length of the mat and lands on the color red that
seems to call to him. Her eyes meet his. Worry, pride, sadness all
flash in that small look before her lips turn up in an encouraging
smile. He frowns at his stupidity and looks away cursing himself,
Dammit Grey, focus.

The whistle
sounds and Mark is across the cage before Greylan can take a step.
His arm comes out of nowhere forcing the breath from Greylan’s
stomach. He collapses to the blue beneath him. His hands brace his
body against the soft padding. He gulps air as Mark rounds his back
pulling him in a rear naked choke. Greylan panics knowing he
probably won’t come out of this one. His oxygen is still lacking
but he forces his body backwards into Mark trying to upset his
stance but Mark pushes forward with the same force. Black spots
begin to form in Greylan’s vision. He falls forward against his
palms and taps the mat. The pressure on his neck is immediately
gone and a whistle sounds claiming Mark as the winner.
So
fucking stupid
, he silently yells at himself.

A moment later
he’s on his feet again angling for his corner of the fence. The
look on Jackson’s face tells him everything but he doesn’t hold his
rant back, “What the hell was that? You aren’t a pansy assed
beginner. You’ve been here Pace, too many times. Get your head
straight.”

Greylan wipes
the light sheen of sweat from his forehead. His anger surfaces. He
knows he must win this one and he’s pissed he let some chick get to
him that easily. He pictures Parker Harris’ face and Meyer’s smug
smile willing his fury to rise.

The whistle
sounds one last time. The blood rushes through his veins and his
ears heat up. He lurches across the mat landing a spinning back
kick to Mark’s abdomen. Mark moves an inch away just as the kick
lands so the force isn’t what Greylan had hoped. Mark moves forward
grabbing Greylan on both of his arms. He moves them up loosening
the grip as his foot comes around to sweep Mark’s legs out from
under him. The intent was successful; Mark goes down landing on one
knee. Greylan follows forcing himself on top of Mark mounting him
with a fury of punches. Mark’s arms raise in his defense. He pushes
an uppercut into Greylan’s nose. Greylan can feel the trail of
blood running down his mouth and chin. He ignores any pain he feels
though. He turns everything off, the shouting, his conflicted
thoughts, everything. This is the moment that matters. He collapses
onto Mark, his hand taking Mark’s neck in a guillotine hold. Before
Mark can tap out the whistle sounds signaling the end of the round.
Greylan immediately backs away and lifts to his feet. He offers his
hand to Mark in a gesture to help him up. The other man takes his
hand and stands. Greylan moves his palm to stop the now steady
stream of blood seeping out of his nose.
It’s probably
broken
, he shakes his head still pissed but satisfied.

The referee
skirts away from the side of the cage after consulting with the
judges through the links. He aims for Greylan and raises his arm to
a resounding round of shouts and applause. His voice comes out
steady announcing, “Greylan Pace is the winner.”

Greylan sinks
to the mat with the realization that he did it, once again. Jackson
steps up and kneels beside him offering a rag for his nose. He
leans in clapping him on the back, “Pace, I knew you’d do it champ.
Congratulations.”

A smile
spreads over Greylan’s face and he shakes his trainer’s hand. He’s
still in disbelief that he’s been given this opportunity again. He
silently thanks the powers that be for the chance, making the vow
not to screw it up this time.

He stands
again to more screams and cheering. His eyes scan for her but
neither Meyer nor Mollie are still there. He wonders if she was
here, if she saw his win. If she saw how much she affected him,
causing him to almost lose it all. He follows Jackson to the locker
room. As soon as they enter Trinity jumps into his arms taking him
by surprise. His laugh comes out in a flourish at the happiness
surging through him. This moment that he gets to share with
everyone he cares about especially Trinity who has always been
there for him. He kisses her cheek and whispers, “I guess someone
told you I won.”

She nods
against his chest and turns to Carlo.

“Carlo stayed
back here with me to tell me play by play.” She punches Greylan’s
arm declaring, “My God Grey, You could give a person a heart
attack. I was scared to death during that second round.”

He chuckles,
“You and me both, Trin.”

Greylan puts
his palm out to Carlo. “Thank you for looking out.”

Carlo smiles
grabbing his hand and pulling him into a hug. He offers,
“Congratulations buddy. You deserve this more than anyone.”

A medic comes
in and looks over Greylan’s nose. He tells them it probably isn’t
broken, but bruised. A few minutes after he leaves the bleeding
stops but Greylan can tell the swelling will continue for a while
but it’s worth it.

Christina
finds her way back into the cramped room and congratulates Greylan.
She asks as she gives him a hug, “Will you be good tonight?
Jonathan wants me to go out with him.”

He hugs her
tighter and whispers, “Thank you for being here. Have fun and be
careful.”

She nods and
smiles as she leaves. Jackson takes that as a cue and tells them
all, “Everybody out. Let Greylan get dressed and home to bed.”

When the room
is empty Greylan sinks to the bench putting his head in his hands.
He takes a few deep breaths and whispers, “This is for you mom and
dad.” He adds, “Theodore James, wherever you are, I’m sorry.”

A moment later
a noise across the room grabs his attention. Jackson enters the
space, his mouth in a tight line. He sits next to Greylan and lets
the silence spread through the room 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.”