No Regrets (No Regrets #1) (8 page)

Chapter 10

My eyes blink continuously
as rays of light hit them. Frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings, the events of the previous night slowly surface. I take a quick glance around the room. It’s small but very neat. Nothing seems out of place. One wall is full of windows covered with blinds that aren’t entirely effective. A small cream colored armchair sits in the corner of the room. Movement on my outstretched arm distracts me. I shift to the side, watching Christina breathing softly curled up next to me, her head resting on my arm as a pillow. The warmth emanating from her feels good. It had been way too long since I had been with a woman. I lean over and kiss her forehead. She squirms, rolling over onto her back. Slowly her eyes flutter open. My gaze lowers and I notice that she’s covered up in a light blue t-shirt. For some reason I’m not surprised she got up and put clothes back on after I fell asleep. She finally looks over at me, seemingly shy. I smile at this because she certainly wasn’t shy last night. I roll over so I can face her. She moves, mirroring my position. We stare at each other for a few moments. Her hand darts to my chest, fingering my tattooed bicep slowly, pushing up to my shoulder and down my arm. Heat trails in the wake of her fingers.

Finally she looks up into my waiting stare and asks what I knew she would
. “What does it mean? I mean, you have a lot all mixed together. Is any of it significant?”

I nod
, taking a deep breath. “The waves symbolize the unpredictability of my life with fighting. The flowers are Trinity and my mom, beautiful in the midst of chaos.” I stop, not really wanting to tell her the rest. But I know Christina and she is predictable.

She fingers the eyes and teeth on my arm
. “What about this one?

“
That is a reminder not to become the monster I was when I killed Theodore James.”

“Grey…”

I cut her off before she can say the words. “No, Christina, you promised.”

She nods against the pillow and falls silent.

For the first time since I’ve been out of prison things seem right in my small world, at least for the moment. It could just be the sex but I’ll take it. Christina though doesn’t look like she feels the same. She seems uneasy all of a sudden and I’m not sure she’s thinking about my tattoos anymore.

My hand moves to her chin. I tilt it up so that I can see directly into her baby
blues. She tries to look away but my hold tightens.

“
Hey, what’s wrong? Was I that bad in bed? Last night it didn’t seem like you thought so. No damn rookie, anyway.” I try to make light of whatever it is.

She speaks quietly, no sign of a smile
about my little joke.

Apprehensively she answers
and her face turns sympathetic. “No, you weren’t a rookie. Grey, I need to tell you…”

I roll onto my
back and sigh. When I look back at her, my voice is edged with frustration. “Christina, this is why I didn’t tell you about myself or my past. I didn’t want that look from you. Is that what this is about?”

Her mouth falls
. “What look?”

“
The one that screams pity party.”

She smirks at my
word choice. “Okay, I guess that’s fair. Neither one of us wants a pity party. We agree on that.”

I nod
but she still seems reluctant about something. Impatiently I ask, “What else? Just spit it out.”

She moves
to her back and speaks, staring up at the ceiling. “I was in a serious relationship for about six years. I was sure we would get married, but instead of asking to spend the rest of my life with him, he claimed that he needed space and moved away. A part of me understood because we’d been together since we were twenty-one, but it hurt really bad. I’ve spent the past six months getting over it and I’ve just come to terms with being alone.”

She looks back at my unwavering
stare. “I’m not looking for that again. I have Juno and the bar to think about. A relationship isn’t something I want right now.”

I can’t help my lip from lifting
at the corner as I stare at her. She squirms uncomfortably… I’m sure she’s thinking that I see this whole thing as more than it really is. Maybe I should have stopped it to avoid this awkwardness. The last thing I would want is for Christina and me to part ways. She’s been a good friend and I don’t want to lose that.

My
hand darts out towards her arm to steady her fidgeting. She meets my stare again. “Don’t do that guilt thing. Last night was good for both of us. I’m not looking for anything, either. Right now I have one thing that I have to put all of my concentration into. My life is anything but stable, so a relationship is out of the question.”

She breath
es deeply in relief. The air in the room seems to lose the charged energy that was there a moment before. She starts giggling as my arms spread out, pulling her to my chest. My lips lower to her forehead.

“I really did enjoy myself
last night and I’d love it if you would still come to the fight tonight. Originally that’s what I wanted to ask you, but the lion didn’t give me a chance.”

She grins
, kissing me quickly. “I’d love to go to your fight. Are you gonna win?”

My shoulders move in a shrug. She punches me
in the arm. “That’s no way to focus. You have to believe you’ll win and you will.”

Hell, not another one
. My hand moves over my face as I scoot further back with a squint. “Really? Not another fate and positive thinking guru. I get enough of that shit from Trinity.”

I stop a moment
, afraid I might have offended her. “Do you really believe that?”

She looks as though she
’s trying to stifle her laughter. It bursts out of her mouth and she shakes her head. I smile, muttering, “I didn’t think so. You’re too smart.”

“And by the way, you are a total wimp. Was that punch all you got? I remember you claiming
that you were going to kick my ass. You might want to think twice about that.”

She shakes her head
. “That was before I knew that you used to do it for a living. I’ll refrain from any ass kicking comments in the future, believe me.”

“That’s what I thought.
When we get up, will you take me back to Juno’s to get my truck?”

“Yep
, I need to let Juno know that I won’t be at the bar tonight, anyway.”

A smile spreads over my
lips. Knowing that Christina will be at the fight is definitely a confidence booster. Maybe I’ll win after all.

***

I pull the white truck up to a warehouse similar to Jackson’s gym. It seems a bit larger and I know it’s full of a lot more people. The double doors are propped open with two stools. A bouncer climbs down from one of them, looking me up and down as I approach. If I didn’t know any better I’d think this guy was a fighter, too. He has a couple of inches on my six one and seems at least two-fifty in weight. Before he can ask, I tell him, “I’m one of the fighters tonight, Greylan Pace.”

They guy looks
at a clipboard and scribbles with a pen. He nods to the doors, so I walk into the building. Five years ago I had entered a fight like this and at the time I thought it was the last one. Now here I am starting over again. Surprisingly I’m not pissed about it. Instead I look forward to the possibilities.

My
feet move effortlessly to the cage. It’s an octagon surrounded on all sides with black linked fencing. My feet find the steps as I lock my hands into the metal. The mat is white with scuff marks, evidence from previous fights. Odd as it is, this is where I feel most at peace. I remember all of the times I’ve been on the mat. Each time I felt more alive than any other time.

A clap on
my back chases the thoughts away. Jackson leans into my ear and asks, “Are you ready, Champ?”

I shake my head
at the nickname I earned back in the day when I was on my way. Carlo insisted that I needed a nickname, just in case the ones I had weren’t enough. It stuck and my wins proved it to be true. I look up with clear eyes, meeting Jackson’s stare. “I’m ready.”

The toothpick that seems
to be a permanent fixture in Jackson’s mouth shifts from one side to the other as he says with a wink, “Good, because everything is going to change tonight.”

Jackson leads me
to the locker room in the back of the huge space. When we enter, a whistle rings through the room. I look up to find Carlo sitting on the bench. He slowly stands, moving toward us. I’m shocked to see my old trainer. He embraces me in a tight hug. When we part, I ask, “Why are you here, Carlo? I thought you’d lose all kinds of backing if you associated with me.”

Carlo tsks
. “No way was I gonna miss your first bout on your way back up. This is gonna be the match that changes everything.”

I’m moved
at everyone’s confidence in me. At this point I hope to hell that I don’t let them all down.

Carlo nudges my
shoulder. “By the way, thanks for the phone call. I had to find out from Parker.”

I’m
surprised Parker would bother but maybe Trinity had something to do with it. I try to get the thought of my sister’s fiancé out of my head. It can’t be helpful in what I’m about to do.

Jackson urges, “Okay
, the reunion’s over now, let’s get to work. You need to get ready and get weighed in.”

The next hour is a blur. The warehouse fills with spectators. Two sides of the cage are lined with chairs but the open side is for standing room only. Christina came in a
half an hour before, wishing me luck before leaving to find a seat next to Carlo. Trinity found a spot in the locker room at the farthest edge of the bench, angled away from anyone still preparing for the fights. One man wanted to protest her presence in the small room but I was able to persuade him that it would be in his best interest to leave her alone.

We
are alone in the locker room, waiting for my name to be called. Mine is the last fight of the night. She shakes her head and tells me, “Thank you for sticking up for me. Some things never change.”

A smile spreads as I realize
her comment is true of her as well. “You’re right, you’re still “watching” the fights from the locker room.”

She shrugs her shoulders and smiles
. “Old habits die hard.” A small part of me is glad that she hasn’t changed because of Parker.

A muffled voice calls down the hallway, “Greylan Pace, you’re up.”

I take a deep breath and smile, meeting Trinity’s confident grin. I lean down to kiss her cheek and she exclaims as I turn to leave, “Show them how it’s done, Pace.”

As I enter
the room, shouts ring through the crowd. Some not so good concerning my age and going back home. Some though are positive about a comeback. I smile, trying to block out all the noise. Jackson waits at the entrance to the cage. He eyes me a moment and asks, “You ready?”

I nod
, securing my hands in my gloves. I place the mouth guard in and step onto the mat. My opponent bobs back and forth on the balls of his feet, on the opposite side of the octagon. He is slightly taller than I am with broader shoulders. His arms are sleeved in tattoos. He bites his mouth guard and runs his gloved hand over his shaved head. He squints and nods to me. I meet his nod with my own and the whistle sounds, signaling the beginning of the match. We rotate around one another before I take a forced step, grabbing his arms. Our heads angle forward with the force of the position, each of us trying to get the upper hand. We rotate on the mat as if one body. Shouts from the crowd pop out here and there. Some shout my name, others shout James’, which is my opponent’s name. I take a deep breath and move my leg to sweep his feet out from under him. The move is a success; James loses his footing and goes down on his side, pulling me down with him. I scurry to move onto my knees and immediately come down on his side with an elbow to the ribs. He reacts, crunching his body into a fetal position. My body moves up and slams down again but he rolls out of the way before I can connect with skin. The momentum forces me down hard onto my side. James takes the opportunity to leap on top of my chest, pinning me to the mat.

A slight
moment of doubt creeps into my head but I shove it away and sway under him, gauging for an opportunity out of the pin. It happens when he moves his arm up in an attempt at a ground and pound. If he succeeds I know I’ll be done. I twist my body uncomfortably and bring my legs around, kneeing him in his already sore ribs. He loses his balance further, allowing my arm to move behind him, taking his neck in a choke hold. I close my eyes as my muscles tighten. A few more seconds…I wait for the tap, my eyes are closed as the tightening continues and he grabs at my locked arm. Finally, a flurry of tapping along my hand lets me know that I won this one. My eyes pop open to shouts as the whistle ends the round.