Get Off on the Pain (23 page)

ALEX PUTS HIS TRUCK IN park and we both just sit in silence for a while, neither one of us making an effort to move. This will be the first time that we have both come here together. It hurts. I admit it. It feels as if my heart is being ripped straight from my chest. I can tell he feels it too. I can see it in his expression.

This place is my weakness, the one place I allow myself to feel vulnerable. My walls crumble here, making me feel useless, and making it hard for me to breathe. I need to push it aside to be strong for Alex—for my mother.

How can you help someone when you can’t even help yourself? How can you fight when you’re not even sure you want to win? I’m so fucked up that I’m not even sure I know what I’m saying. Every day is just another day that I’m chugging along, and riding this fucked up ride we call life.

Well, where the hell do I get off?

Pushing back my emotions, I reach in the back for my guitar, grab Alex’s shoulder and squeeze, letting him know that I’m ready. No bullshit this time. I can’t run off like a pussy again. I need to face her, to let her know that I’m sorry.

“All good, man?” Alex grabs the back of my neck and squeezes, as I look straight ahead with my jaw steeled.

“All good.” I push my door open and swallow. “Let’s go.” Hopping out of the truck, I sling my guitar over my right shoulder and walk side by side with Alex. With every step that we take I feel my heart breaking more, making my throat burn with the emotions I’m trying to keep hidden. Something about being here with Alex makes it feel more real. It’s a huge dose of reality and it fucking sucks.

My eyes stay zoned in on my mother’s headstone, even before we get close enough to see it. I just keep my eyes locked, knowing that it’s there. I can feel it in my heart. I could never forget where she is. I have a feeling I could find her spot even with my eyes closed.

It’s cooler than the last time we were here, a little too cold. The wind is blowing, sending a shiver up my spine. It reminds me so much of my mother and what she taught me as a young man.

Stepping up to her grave, I grab her jacket out from under my left arm and carefully drape it over the ground above her. My eyes unwillingly start to water as I kneel down and place my hand on the ground between my knees so that I can get closer to her.

“It’s cold today,” I whisper. “I remember you always told me to never let the ones you love go cold. You said to keep them warm and close to your heart, that way they’ll never forget how much they mean to you. That’s what you always said when you used to put your jacket on me when you caught me outside without one. You always were the most loving, caring woman I had ever met.”

I close my eyes and remember the feeling I got as a child when she would drape me in her coat to keep me warm. It made me feel safe and loved, because I knew her jacket was always close to her heart. “I haven’t forgotten,” I say softly. “I remember.” I take a deep breath and slowly release it. “I’ve met someone a lot like you. She’s tough . . . a fighter. She doesn’t seem to give up so easily on the ones she cares about, no matter how hard you try to push her away. That was one of the things I always loved about you, and to this day I still do. You never gave up on any of us, even when you should have.”

I feel Alex’s hand on my shoulder before he kneels down beside me and wipes his face on the sleeve of his jacket. It’s not very often that you’ll see Alex cry. He’s a lot like me in ways . . . but better. “You can do it, man. She’s listening.” He points above us and then touches his heart. “We love you mom; always and forever. Your boys.”

I swallow hard and close my eyes as the tears come steadily. This time there’s no stopping them. I feel every damn increment of pain I have been trying to keep buried away. The only option left is to just lose it and let it all out. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

I grip the ground with one hand and run my hand through my hair, tugging. “I never wanted to leave you. I didn’t. I had no choice. I did what I had to do to protect our family. Alex was going to die. He was barely breathing and he just kept hitting him over and over. I didn’t know I was going to kill him. I didn’t know. Fuck!”

I punch the ground before standing to my feet and growling. I feel all the rage coming back to me. That unstoppable hatred that fueled the beast that night, I let it take over me . . . and blind me. I’m afraid it’s going to come back tonight. I tried to avoid this. I really did.

Alex grips my shoulder to comfort me, but I push his arm away and kneel down again, gripping my head. The pain is so fucking bad that I can feel myself struggling for air.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t hate me. I love you more than life,” I say with one short breath.

“It’s alright, bro.” Alex stands above me, looking away. “We all know it was to protect me. Mom knew you did what you had to do. She fucking knew what dad became. Plus, I saw him bang his head onto the side of the workbench. You could’ve never expected that. It just happened. He was drunk off his fucking ass. No one could have called it.”

I grind my jaw and lean my head back, trying to fight off the pain. I’ve gone the last six years hating myself for not being able to be here for my family. I will never let that happen again. That’s exactly why I have to fight tonight. I’m going to fight and get Alex and I both out of this lifestyle . . . for good.

Alex taps the guitar. “Hey, Mom would love it if you played for her. Okay? It’s been a long time.” He sits down on the ground beside me. “That always made her happy, Bro. We can sit here all day if you need to. Let’s just chill and relax . . . like old times.”

I nod my head in silence. I’m done with words. The pain is too much to bear.

We have already been here for a good two hours, both of us just relaxing as I play some of mom’s favorite songs. No matter how old they are, I’ll never forget them. Neither one of us speak the entire time. We don’t have to. It’s as close to a happy memory that either one of us will ever get again.

I HAVEN’T TAKEN MY EYES off the clock. In two more hours I’ll be in that fucking warehouse, losing myself to more pent up frustration and hate. I don’t know much about how Asher’s fights work. All I know is that if a fighter loses too much of his money, eventually, he has a better fighter take his ass out . . . for good.

That thought scares me. I’m not scared for myself. I’m scared of what I may have to do to someone else. It’s been approximately six years since I have been in a ring, but that doesn’t mean shit. It’s part of who I am. The fight is in me and I never give up.

I’m not even sure when Alex entered my room, but when I look up he’s standing next to the heavy bag in the corner.

“I think you should fight tonight.” Alex looks over at me, his expression dark. I can see the pain in his eyes. The guilt is eating at him.

“I plan to,” I say confused. “It’s the only thing I can do.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I mean at the alley. Tonight. It’s been a long time, Memphis. Too long.”

I stare down at the gray carpet, lost in thought. He’s right. It has been a long time, but not as long as he thinks. Prison isn’t a fucking vacation. Every day is a battle to hold on to your freedom. You fought to defend yourself or you became someone’s bitch. It’s that simple. I stayed to myself for the most part, but there were times when I had no choice. He doesn’t need to know the filth you live when behind bars though. It will only make him feel more like shit.

“Set it up.” I look up at Alex. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes. Tell them to make it fucking good.”

Alex holds his phone up and starts backing away towards the stairs. “On it. Meet me at my truck.”

After changing into a pair of sweats and an old shirt, I walk over to the heavy bag and practice my swings. With each swing my blows become harder and faster as the adrenaline starts to kick in. I feel my blood pumping. The old feeling is back, but it doesn’t feel good like it used to.

Finally, I make my way up the stairs and out front to meet Alex by his truck. I shiver a bit as the wind hits me, but it doesn’t bother me. My blood is pumping so fast that I’m sweating my ass off. He nods and hops into the driver’s side seat as he acknowledges me stepping outside.

I can’t help my gaze from landing on Lyric’s bedroom window as I make my way around the truck: she’s home. I saw her make it home about two hours ago, but I made it clear to her earlier that I had somewhere to go tonight, so she hasn’t bothered to come over. Good. I don’t want to explain where I’m going and I know she’d push it.

I hop inside the truck and slam the door behind me. “Let’s go.”

Alex starts the engine and quickly backs out of the driveway. His leg is bouncing and he looks nervous as shit.

“Did you set up the fight?”

He nods his head and grips the steering wheel. “It’s all good. You’re up second tonight.”

I wait for him to tell me who it is that I’m fighting, but he doesn’t continue. That’s unusual. He’s usually excited about the alley fights.

“Tell me, Alex,” I growl out. “Who the fuck am I fighting?”

He grinds his jaw, not wanting to answer, and let’s out a huff. “Trevor.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Trevor was the only one willing and that even took some convincing.”

“Well fuck.” I swallow hard and look out the window as we pull up to the alley and search for a parking spot. Trevor is the last person I ever thought I’d be fighting. We always told each other that we’d never let that happen. Things have changed. A lot of shit has changed since I left.

“You good, man? We can cancel it.” Alex parks and kills the engine. “I know you guys are close.”

I shake my head. “Nah.” I reach for the handle. “I need to do this. I’m getting Asher out of our lives and for fucking good. No more shit, Alex. You’re a good fighter. I know you’re fucking good, because I’ve watched you fight. Why the fuck did you lose those fights for Asher?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispers. “I don’t do it anymore.”

I shove the door open and rush over to his side of the truck, pulling him out by his jacket as he opens the door. He’s not just going to tell me that shit and not explain. “It does fucking matter. You brought me into this shit, Alex. You’re fucking with my life. You owe me,” I scream. “You want my help? You better start talking. Now. Tell. Me.”

He shakes me loose and slams the truck door behind him. “I was fucking high and drunk off my ass. I was going through a rough time after mom passed. I was alone.” He points at his chest. “I was left alone. Only me. Not only did I lose Mom, but the only brother I have. Cut me some fucking slack. Anyway, I saw Asher one night and I approached him. As soon as I told him you were my brother he offered me a job to fight for him. I was already too far in by then. It took me a lot of phone calls to Tripp to pull me out of my shit. I realized the drugs and alcohol weren’t doing anything but numbing the pain, fucking my life up even more.”

I want to be mad. I should be, but can’t. It’s partially my fault. I wasn’t there for him. He was young, too young to not have anyone.

“I’ll take care of it. Come on.” I pat his back and start walking toward the noise. The first fight has already started. Once we get close enough to the fight I see that Ryder is in the ring with the red head. The red head doesn’t even have a chance tonight.

I cross my arms and watch until I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Memphis.”

I turn around and see Ava. She gives me a sad smile and looks me over as if she wants nothing more than to touch me.

“Ava,” I say softly.

She steps up closer to me and reaches out to touch me, but stops. “What are you doing here? I thought you were done fighting.”

“I am,” I say stiffly. “I’m just doing what I have to and then I’m done. I’m getting out of here.”

I look back in the direction of the fight and notice Ryder growling while looking in our direction. “You should stay away from me, Ava. I don’t want Ryder taking anything out on you.”

She nods her head and let’s out a small breath. “Yeah, I know. He looks pretty pissed. Just . . . be careful, okay? I don’t want you to end up back in prison. You don’t deserve it. You’re a good guy, Memphis; better than you give yourself credit for. I saw it. I would have been yours . . . if you wanted me. All of me. That’s how good you truly are. Ryder . . . he’s just physical for me. You . . . you never were.” She takes a small breath. “Anyways . . . goodnight, Memphis.”