No Regrets (No Regrets #1) (13 page)

She nods and follows me
with her gaze all the way to the truck. I can feel her stare on my back. I tell myself that I need to stay away from her but my body tells me other things. I have never been so turned on by just a look from a woman before. As I climb into the truck, I glance back and meet her still stare. She smiles and waves. Closing the door, my head moves slightly and I vow not to look at her tonight. It will totally screw with my game.

Chapter 16

Jackson pulls into the lot of Lara’s Lan
ding at exactly five o’clock. I watch out the window as 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 told me that he quit smoking ten years ago and he had no problems overcoming the nicotine addiction but not having something for his mouth to do in its absence was something else.

His knock echoes down the long
cool hall. I answer with a pull on the door. One look and I’m sure he knows I’m still fighting some stuff. It seems that today is worse than most days. I was hoping he would attribute it to nerves about the fight. This is the precipice on which I failed five years ago. But the look on his face tells me he knows it’s more than just nerves.

He
seems to dismiss it because he claps me on the shoulder and asks, “So, Champ, you ready?”

I nod
, taking a deep breath, relieved he let it go. The last thing I want to do is hash out any of this shit running through my head.

“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.”

I glare down my nose at Jackson and claim
, “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?”

I follow him out to his custom painted metallic blue Chevy truck. If there were ever a time I’m 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 me than he could possibly know.

The drive to t
he coast is long and silent. Jackson doesn’t try to put words out there that don’t need to be and I’m thankful. Too much shit runs through my head. I know I need to get it together. But I keep picturing her at the pond today. Red, - the way her name rolls through my head. I lean back, closing my eyes, and instead of pushing her away I trace the outline of her face in my mind, her long bright hair that I itched to touch today. After a while I lift my head, watching the landscape as we get closer to the fight. What the hell is it about this woman that’s so different? Meyer, that’s what’s different. She’s off limits because of Meyer. As pissed off as I am at the asswipe, I would never touch what’s his. A deep breath escapes me as I come to terms with these thoughts.

My head falls back to rest
again and my fists clench. I think about Meyer with Mollie and Parker with Trinity, trying to bring about just the right amount of irritation. This is what I need to get through the night, something to focus on and someone to beat the shit out of.

As we
enter the warehouse, a steady stream of people is pouring into the seats lined up around the cage. I turn my head to look across the broad room at that symbol of my life. It means everything to me. Just fifteen minutes and I’m either on top or not going to continue with this. I follow Jackson into the small room they label as a locker room. One wall is lined with portable lockers that are brought in just for the fights. I find one and fasten my lock onto the handle. My breathing comes in long draws as I try to focus on nothing. I change into my shorts and remove my shirt. A wooden bench leans against the opposite wall. I skirt around the other fighters and situate myself on the far side, knowing that Trinity will show up soon.

H
alf an hour later, as I’m concentrating only on breathing, Jackson leads Trinity into the room. I stand and pull her into my chest. Over her head I ask, “Do you think you might want to watch tonight?”

She pulls away an
d looks up into my 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.”

I move my
hand up to her face and squish her nose with my thumb. She laughs and hugs me tightly. Her feet move around the bench as she finds a spot to sit for the long haul. I sink to the bench beside her, letting the silence spread. This is the moment I savor. Right before I must go out into the screaming crowds, while minutes spread and I don’t have to speak or think with my sister here supporting me. I squeeze Trinity’s hand while we wait. I close my eyes, intent on focusing on nothing.

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

One last squeeze from Trinity and
my eyes pop open as I stand. I take a deep breath and look at my little sister. She smiles encouragingly. “Do this, Grey. I know you can. Remember, no regrets.”

I nod and turn
, walking the distance to the cage. Yelling and screaming ring through the room as I step up onto the platform leading to the gate. Jackson grasps my arm, asking, “You ready, Champ?”

I
nod one last time before I fit the guard into my mouth and enter the octagon. I force the air in and out through my nose. The other man, Mark Gaines, on the other side of the blue mat, is a foot taller than me, but thinner, with buzzed dark hair. His arms bulge as he flexes and dances around his side of the cage. I move my feet in the dance, forcing my heart to speed up. This is the fight that decides which one of us will move up.

I surge
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 my arm. I lift it just in time to block the kick, which was aimed at my face. I shake it out and swing at Mark’s chin with a balled fist. He moves his arms up, causing my knuckles to fall away. Slowly I move around him, lowering my body as if I’m a bull about to attack, and my feet charge forward, forcing my shoulder into his abdomen. It’s unexpected; Mark falls through the air for seconds, as if weightless. His back hits the mat, causing the air to rush from his lungs. I take advantage and lunge forward, toppling over him, pounding into his sides with rounded strikes. My knuckles brace as each hit vibrates through my arms. He seems to wake up as the air rushes back in. He moves his arms, forcing them into my face. My assault stops as I try to keep my position, but the force of Mark’s body causes me to fall back. I know it was a mistake. I had the upper hand and now I scurry to my feet again. Mark steps onto the balls of his toes and lunges at me. The force pushes me into the metal of the cage, the links digging into my back. His arms brace in a clinch around my neck as if we are embracing, but I use the fence to gain momentum. With all the strength I have, my body thrusts forward, my clenched fists landing on his torso. I take a step out of the clinch allowing an opportunity 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 - I win the round.

My breathing heaves as I aim
for the other side of the cage. Jackson tells me through the linked metal, “That was great, Pace. You know the drill, only two more to go.”

I stare
across the mat at my opponent, who is now heaving, trying to catch his breath. The referee has his arm in his grasp and he’s asking him something. I’m sure it’s whether he can go on. Mark nods, satisfying me that we will continue. My glance swings the length of the mat and lands on the color red that seems to call to me. Her eyes meet mine. Worry, pride, sadness all flash in that small look before her lips turn up in an encouraging smile. I frown at my stupidity and look away, cursing.
Dammit, Grey, focus.

The whistle sounds and Mark i
s across the cage before I can take a step. His arm comes out of nowhere, forcing the breath from my stomach. I collapse to the blue beneath us. My hands brace my body against the soft padding. I gulp air as Mark rounds my back, pulling me in a rear naked choke. This causes panic. I know it’s hard to come out of this one. My oxygen is still lacking but I force my body backwards into his body, trying to upset his stance, but he pushes forward with the same force. Black spots begin to form in my vision. I fall forward against my palms and tap the mat. The pressure on my neck is immediately gone and a whistle sounds, claiming Mark as the winner.
So fucking stupid
.

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

I
wipe the light sheen of sweat from my forehead and the anger surfaces. I know I must win this one and I’m pissed I let some chick get to me that easily. Willing the fury to rise, I picture Parker Harris’ face and Meyer’s smug smile.

The whistle sounds one last ti
me. The blood rushes through my veins and my ears heat up. I lurch across the mat, landing a spinning back kick to Mark’s abdomen. He moves an inch away just as the kick lands, so the force isn’t what I had hoped. He moves forward, grabbing a hold of both of my arms. Raising them helps to loosen his grip as my foot comes around to sweep his legs out from under him. My intent was successful; he goes down, landing on one knee. My body follows, forcing all of my weight on top, mounting him with a fury of punches. His arms raise in defense with an uppercut to my nose. A trail of blood runs down my mouth and chin. I turn everything off; the shouting, my conflicted thoughts, the pain, everything. This is the moment that matters. I collapse onto him, my hand taking his neck in a guillotine hold. Before he can tap out, the whistle sounds, signaling the end of the round. Immediately I back away and lift to my feet with an offered hand to him. He takes my hand and stands. I move my palm to stop the now steady stream of blood seeping out of my nose.
It’s probably broken
. I shake my head, still pissed but satisfied with the fight.

The referee skirts away fro
m the side of the cage after consulting with the judges through the links. He aims for me and raises my arm to a resounding round of shouts and applause. His voice comes out steady, announcing, “Winner by unanimous decision, Greylan Pace.”

My body
sinks to the mat with the realization that I did it, once again. Jackson steps up and kneels beside me, offering a rag for my nose. He leans in, clapping me on the back. “I knew you’d do it, Champ. Congratulations!”

A smile spreads over my face as I shake my trainer’s hand. I’m still in disbelief that I’ve
been given this opportunity again. Silently I thank the powers that be for the chance, and make the vow not to screw it up this time.

I stand
to more screams and cheering. My eyes scan for her, but neither Meyer nor Mollie is still here. I wonder if she was here, if she saw my win. If she saw how much she affected me, causing me to almost lose it all. I follow Jackson to the locker room. As soon as we cross into the room, Trinity jumps into my arms, taking me by surprise. She causes a laugh at the happiness surging through me. This moment that I get to share with everyone I care about, especially Trinity, who has always been there for me. I kiss her cheek and whisper, “I guess someone told you I won.”

She nods against my
chest and turns to Carlo.

“Carlo sta
yed back here with me to tell it play by play.” She punches my arm, declaring, “My God, Grey, you could give a person a heart attack. I was scared to death during that second round.”

I chuckle
. “You and me both, Trin.”

My hand extends
to Carlo. “Thank you for looking out.”

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

A medic c
omes in and looks at my nose. He tells us that it probably isn’t broken, but bruised. A few minutes after he leaves, the bleeding stops but I can tell the swelling will continue for a while. It’s worth it.

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

My arms around her tighten and I whisper
, “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
, I sink to the bench, putting my head in my hands. A few deep breaths escape my lips with the words, “This is for you, Mom and Dad.” I add, “Theodore James, wherever you are, I’m sorry.”