No Regrets (No Regrets #1) (18 page)

We
bob around each other a few times before Jesus closes the distance with his hands grasping my arms. I try to shake out of it but he’s holding too tight. Instead I take a chance throwing myself forward, hoping it will cause him to lose his footing. He’s a rock and doesn’t budge. Jackson yells, “Come on, Grey, that’s all you got? I thought we were past this shit.”

My
gaze meets that of my opponent. He smiles as his arms move rapidly from my outer arms to under my shoulders just as his foot sweeps mine out from under me. He leans his full weight toward my body once I’m on the floor but my legs lock around his abdomen. His smile disappears as he realizes I have him in my guard to halt his progress. Jesus lands a punch to my gut, loosening the grip around his waist. He moves his hands under my backside, flipping me to the side. My legs come apart, allowing him to land in a side hold. I realize at this point what I’m really up against. I try to turn my body and attempt an elbow to his side but he comes down on me, taking my neck in a guillotine hold. I relax all of my muscles and tap out.

Jesus pops up
, looking over at Jackson. Jackson glares at me. “Again.” His voice comes out forcefully. “Until Grey decides he’s gonna take it seriously.” As we grapple again, Jackson taunts, “You want to lose your first fight on the pro circuit, then keep fighting like a pussy. I can’t believe I agreed to take your ass on. I should send you back to Carlo, maybe in a body bag, ‘cause you’re worthless.”

He continues like
this all afternoon as I get my ass beat over and over. Finally, on our fifth match, I’m not sure I should even bother any further. My head isn’t in it and it’s doing nothing but frustrating all of us. We meet in an arm lock once again but this time Jesus leans in, his accented breath barely a whisper, “I’ve seen that shithead with your sister. You really gonna let him marry her?”

This seems to wake me up. I think
about Parker and how he upset Trinity yesterday.
Fucking hell.

I
move swiftly out of Jesus’ grasp and lean down, sweeping his legs out from under him. Jesus lands on his side but scurries away before I can mount him. My leg comes up, kicking his side. He crosses the mat, a determined look in his eyes. It turns to a snide smile and I force my arm into his gut continuously. He leans in, tackling me to the mat. I move around behind Jesus and hold him in a rear naked choke hold. A loud tap vibrates through the mat, signaling me as the winner. I release as he sits up, laughing. He looks over at Jackson a moment later. “Parker Harris is his spot.”

“Shit, I coulda told you that. The question is, how are we gonna
use it to beat his ass?”

My body
collapses onto the mat. I cross my legs, savoring every ache alight in my muscles. This is my life. I remind myself of that fact over and over. There’s no time for anything else. Today was evidence of that.

Chapter 23

A week later
I haven’t heard a word from Meyer and Mollie is a wishful, distant memory. But who am I kidding? She finds me while I’m awake and asleep, leaving me with regret, the one thing I vowed never to do.

I move
through the usual routine. I haven’t had a bit to drink since that night with Juno and today is D-day as far as I’m concerned, my monthly meeting with one of the manliest women I’ve ever met, Jane Mason, my parole officer. Up until this point she’s been fine with my fighting as long as I kept her apprised of my progress. Today, however, is the day I ask to leave New Jersey to fight in Vegas. Her decision could stop me in my tracks or allow my life to move forward. It pisses me off that she gets the final word but there’s nothing I can do about it.

A loud knock on t
he door alerts me that Jackson is waiting outside. I walk to the truck and take a deep breath as Jackson steers to the depressing office. Every month she’s given me shit for nothing. I’ve done everything she’s asked and never rescheduled an appointment. This is what pisses her off I guess, she’s used to people breaking the law and screwing up. A couple of visits prior to this one she stated as I sat down, “You know you’ll do it sooner or later.”

I
looked up. “Do what?”

“You’ll mess up
.”

I
didn’t gratify her with an answer. My original first impression still rings true; she’s a miserable human being who hates her job. But I still have every intention on proving her theory wrong.

Jackson brings me out of my
thoughts. “Let me do the talking today, okay Pace?”

“Okay.” I won’t argue. Jackson went with me
once to see Jane. She visibly liked him better. I can’t imagine her reasoning, after all he’s a large black man with tattoos and gold teeth, but it doesn’t matter. Jackson’s a good guy. He took me in when it mattered and I’ll always be thankful.

As
we make our way back into the filthy office, Jane stands at the sight of Jackson. A smile spreads.
Maybe she has a crush on him
.

Jackson shakes her hand over the desk that never sees the light of day be
fore settling in next to me. He hands some papers over to her and watches while she analyzes them. It peeves me that Jackson has kept me in the dark on the fight deals. I think I should be involved in the decisions being made on my behalf. Jackson, however, gave two very good reasons why he wasn’t involving me. The first is dealing with Meyer, who’s the front man right now in match-ups. Who the hell knows how he landed that gig, but I’m glad not to have to deal with his ass. The other reason is just Jackson’s track record so far. He hasn’t steered me wrong yet, so I’ve left it alone. Today, however, will decide how much I involve myself further.

Jane looks up from the paperwork
. “Everything seems to be in order.”

Jackson nods
, still eyeing her.

“If you need to extend the trip, I need a call directly to my
office. Do not leave a message. Get hold of a person. Understand?”

Jackson looks
at me and nods. “We can handle that.”

She squints my way
and states, “You got lucky, Pace. This guy here, he’s good people. Don’t let him down.”

My lip quirks
. That’s probably the nicest thing she’s said to me. The only thing she ever will, most likely. I know she still thinks I’m some punk but I couldn’t care less. Dealing with her once a month is nothing, just as I told my sister on the very first visit.

As we
leave the office, Jackson slaps my hand in a high five. He explains, “You just gotta have the magic touch.”

“Jax, you can have all the magic touch
you want with that chick but I don’t think it’ll help.”

Jackson laughs as he climbs into the truck. On the w
ay back to the apartment I tell him, “Thanks for yesterday. It meant a lot to have at Jesus Reyes.”

“You’re welcome. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

My breath escapes me. It’s a good thing, though. I need to study the guy’s moves and see what makes him tick, find his weakness.

“By the way
, Grey, did you ever make an appointment?”

I wince and let
the silence spread.

“That’s what I thought.”

He passes a card over to me. “I took the liberty. Be at that address at four o’clock this afternoon.”

Turning the card over in my hands
, I nod. I went through counseling, probably too much, in prison. It helped with the nightmares, though. They still came but not as often. This week has been a doozy. The first night that Christina appeared in the dream was only the beginning. My fucked up mind conjures up all kinds of ways to torment me.

Once in the
apartment, I pull my phone out, deciding to make someone’s day. I press an unused number and wait as it rings. A woman’s voice answers, smacking gum as usual. I wince, picturing the plump girl that came on to me the last time I was at Jimmy’s office.

“Can I speak to James
Turner?”

“Um, who can I tell him is calling?”

Maybe her phone skills are improving.

“It’s Greylan Pace.”

She yells half into the phone, catching me off guard. “Jimmy, it’s Greylan!”

I
can hear shuffling and then Jimmy’s voice telling her, “Daphne, you didn’t have to yell across the office. What if I would have had a client?”

She chuckles
. “Yeah, right. We haven’t had a new client in months, and you told me if he ever calls to get you right away.”

I
can hear Jimmy cursing. “Can I trust you to patch it through to my office? Don’t mess it up.”

A moment later
, Jimmy’s voice beams over the line. “Greylan. Hey buddy, how are you?”

“Hi
, Jimmy. Are you ready to work yet?”

I
can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “You know it.”

“Good
, because before I sign any contract with you, I want to know all about the Jesus Reyes business.”

He seems to mull his response over before he explains, “Grey, there really isn’t much to tell.”

I won’t let him get any further. “Listen, Jimmy, I need someone looking out for me in the upcoming deals. Someone who will represent what
I
want. If you can’t come clean about Jesus Reyes and tell me the truth, then you aren’t the guy for me. I know we have history but sometimes moving on is the best thing.”

I know
exactly how Jimmy will respond. He’ll want to tell me every gory detail just to land me as a client. I know that Jimmy isn’t the most honest person but he will keep my best interests in mind. I can’t trust Meyer with that task, and with Jackson, the jury is still out. I trust my trainer, but only as a trainer. I’m not sure of his abilities to cut deals.

“Okay
, Grey, but not over the phone.”

“That’s fair. How about we meet over at Juno’s at eleven tonight
? I’m out of there early.”

“You betcha.”

After we hang up I head to the gym. My memory of Mollie, only a week old, is still so raw. It pisses me off that she felt she had to leave. I can’t figure out why. The note she left me has been opened and folded so many times that I could quote every word.

Jackson yells when I walk
in, “Go get changed and ready for another beating.”

Great.

When I enter the ring, a black man, or more like a kid, he can’t be more than nineteen, faces me. He’s covered in tattoos. His smile reminds me of a cartoon character - it’s so wide, showing all of his teeth. He moves forward, reaching out. I misunderstand his meaning and throw him down onto his back in a side hold. He laughs. I frown, moving off him. He pushes his hand forward from the floor, introducing himself, “I’m Dontavious Jones. I’m a huge fan of yours.”

My hand darts out to help
him up and I shake his hand apologetically. I glance over at Jackson, who’s laughing profusely. When I swing my glance back to Dontavious, he’s lunging at me with a rounded kick to the ribs. My feet move around the kid, trying to take him down. We grapple with each other for two minutes before I take him in a side hold. The kid can’t seem to stop smiling. He’s liable to get some teeth knocked out.

We
spar all day working on various moves. This is the first time Jackson has me hold each stance in various positions and explains what to do next. I’m able to picture the dance in my head better than I ever have by the end of the day.

When the
counseling appointment rolls around I debate skipping it, but I know if I want my mind to settle down, this is the way to do it. I stride into the office of Bethany Edwards. She’s younger than I expected, probably in her late thirties, dressed in navy blue dress pants and a light pink silk top. Her blonde hair is braided down her back. She smiles warmly, soothing my uneasiness a bit. I settle into the chair staring at her over the immaculate desk between us. I know how this goes, the questions and probing to get you to talk about yourself. Unfortunately for this chick, I’m not feeling it today. I remain tight-lipped as she asks, “Greylan Pace. I did a little research. You’re a fighter, huh?”

Her first question throws me
off. I nod, remaining expressionless.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve done this before
, but usually I would ask awkward questions trying to get information from you for you to analyze and figure out why you’re feeling the way you are.”

She smiles
. “But that’s not who I am. You aren’t going to open up until you feel comfortable with me and that definitely won’t happen today. So instead, let me tell you about me. Today you can learn some things about my life and maybe the next time we can talk about you. Does that sound all right?”

My brows r
ise in surprise but I don’t say anything. Another nod and she begins.

“Al
l right, as you know my name is Bethany. I’ve been married for ten years to the love of my life…”

As she rattles on about her
happily-ever-after life, my thoughts wander. I wonder about Mollie and where she is and what would have happened if she would have stayed longer. My mind moves to Meyer and how his passive attitude seeped in to piss me off again. Truthfully, Meyer didn’t change. He always had the same careless view of things. It earned him many fights throughout high school and I was always there to back him up. But now, after all that has happened, he still acts as though everything is great or not his problem. Maybe he has to do that to convince himself not to care. Maybe that’s Meyer’s coping mechanism to deal with things when they don’t go his way. He admitted his feelings for Mollie but didn’t seem defeated when he found out about her and I. He seemed ready to move on.

Bethany’s voice breaks through
. “I went to college for education. I wanted to be a teacher but discovered that I liked listening to people more than talking to them…”

The picture of Theodore Jam
es from the trial moves into my thoughts. His family made a montage of happy photos to show that he would never attack a woman like that. They even had his girlfriend, or the girl claiming to be his girl, come in one of the days of the trial. She looked stricken, like she couldn’t go on. That day was the hardest for me. After that I wasn’t sure I could go on myself. I took the life of a person but it was so much more than that. I took his family’s life, too. They would never be the same. Their lives would be forever changed because of my actions.

I
shake my head trying to dispel the memory and run my hand through my hair, looking up to the shrink.

A swift smile spreads over her lips.
She nods and stands, seeming satisfied.

“Greylan, it’s been a pleasure.”

Squinting into her open face, I realize that this was her intent, to get me thinking about things. Even though I didn’t speak, things still rolled over in my mind, making them current and raw. I smirk at her, noting that she might very well be good at her job and a little sneaky.

I stand and shake
her outstretched hand. She asks, “Maybe next time you’ll share a little bit about yourself. I’d love to hear about fighting. It sounds exciting.”

I nod and turn
, leaving the office. I didn’t utter a word but I feel exhausted emotionally from the thoughts I hashed out. Tonight’s dreams are bound to be vivid.

When I arrive
at the bar, my nerves are a mess because of the visit with the shrink. Christina still has that guilty look in her eyes. She’s been taking up the slack, as if I’m delicate or something. Finally tired of this shit for the past week, I growl, “Christina, if you don’t stop with the pity party, I’m gonna have to do something.”

She smiles
. “Ah, there’s our old Grey. I wondered where you went. You gonna beat my ass or something?”