No Regrets (No Regrets #1) (17 page)

Chapter 22

E
very time the door opens I glance over, hoping Mollie changed her mind. But the night rolls on and she doesn’t make an appearance. As the bar closes, Christina pulls out two glasses and a bottle but I put my hand up, halting her. The last thing I feel like doing is drinking. She swallows two pours before asking, “Are you going to share or are you going to torture me forever?”

This brings a smile to my
lips. Leave it to Christina to try and cheer me up. I shake my head as I finish up behind the bar. “I went after her, stuff happened, and she’s going back home now.”

Her mouth gapes open
. “That’s it? What stuff happened? Did you sleep with her? Why is she leaving? Did it suck that bad? I guess it didn’t suck if you’re so heartbroken over her.”

I frown
at her ramble.

“What am I
going to do with you?”

“Come on
, Grey, at least tell me if you had a good time.”

“Yeah, it was a good time. It was
nice
.”

Her eyebrows quip at the
last comment. She winces at my word choice but doesn’t ask. Instead her next question has me wondering as well.

“Where is
her home?”

I look
up from wiping down the counters behind the bar. “I’m not sure.”

She p
ours and downs another glass. My eyes narrow at her. “How are you getting home?”

As if
on cue, the door opens and Jonathan walks in. He stares at her back with a wide grin across his face. His accent stresses the words as he asks, “Are you getting drunk again, Christina?”

She turns, her eyes roving over him
.

“Hey
, baby, you wanna drink?”

I take this as my
opportunity to leave. When they start calling each other baby and shit, I’m out. I ask Jonathan, “You got this?” referring to my very buzzed friend and the bar. Jonathan nods, wrapping his arms around her, nuzzling her neck.

“Yeah
, man, I’ll make sure everything is closed up tight and this girl gets home safe.”

I nod
, heading out the door.

When
the chilly air hits my face, I contemplate walking the short distance to the Breaker,
just to see,
I reason. I don’t even know where she lives and I’ll probably never see her again. Of course if I’m going to work with Meyer, I can probably find out, but my hands long to touch her. The fingers on my hand clench at the thought of never having the chance to see or kiss her again.

My feet seem to move of their own accord in the direction I
last saw her flee. As I near the tall building, doubt forms in my middle.
When did I turn into such a fucking pussy, chasing after a chick?

But still I continue
, noticing how immense the lobby is as I approach the counter held up by
intricately carved columns doused in white. A wall of etched golden metal lines the space behind the counter. The hotel is fancier than any I’ve ever seen. The woman behind the desk dressed in a crisp blue uniform looks shyly at me while batting her eyelashes. She stutters nervously, “C-can I help you?”

I sigh
. “Yes, I was wondering if you can tell me if a guest is still here.”

She smiles sweetly but
shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t give that information out.”

I glance to
her nametag. “Um, Danielle, I know you have rules and I would never ask if it wasn’t very important.”

I lean
over the counter, closing the distance between us further. “Please, Danielle. I just need to know if Mollie Andrews or Meyer Hansen are still registered.”

She
looks apprehensively back and forth to either side of the counter but no one is listening. Uneasily, she glances down to the computer screen before her fingers hit a few of the keys. When she looks up, I already know the answer by the expression on her face. My heart falls.

“I’m sorry
, they checked out a few hours ago.”

“Thank yo
u, Danielle. I appreciate it.” I start to turn but she calls out to me. “Um, wait. You’re that fighter, aren’t you?”

A frown creases my face as I move
back over to the counter. “What do you mean? How do you know who I am?”

“It’s all over the news. They said you were in prison
for killing a man and now you’re going to fight in Vegas. It’s like your second chance or something.”

I run a hand through my hair. How did I not know that my
face has been all over the news? Then it hits me, I’ve been so concerned with Mollie that there was never a chance for me to notice. The TVs at the bar though….then I silently answer my own question. They’re all turned to football, all the time. Christina probably did that on purpose.

She puts her hand up on the counter
and slides something toward me. I grab it and meet her enamored stare curiously.

“It’s a note that was left
. That is your name, isn’t it?” I look down at the scripted writing. A knot forms in my stomach. I nod and turn to walk out of the hotel. The paper crumples in my palm as I debate whether to read it or not.

Hesitating a mome
nt in the middle of the lobby, I make a decision and move toward the bar situated in a wide room on the other side of the expansive entrance. Maybe a drink will do me some good after all. As I sit down and order a drink, I spread the note out and carefully press it into the bar, smoothing out the wrinkles. The first thing that strikes me is her slanted handwriting that fits her perfectly. Not girly but not masculine, strong script which matches her independent personality. I read it twice, just to make sure I get exactly what is written before me.

Greylan,

You are an amazing person.

Always remember that and go after what is rightfully yours.

Red

I frown
as the words start to blur together. My head rests in my palms, more confused than ever. A few beats of my heart have the blood rushing in my ears. My hands itch to punch something. A day without going to the gym isn’t good. I have too much pent up energy that I need to get rid of. After paying the bill, I carefully fold the note and slide it into my pocket. As I step out onto the side walk, I palm my phone to dial Meyer. It rings with no answer. Finally a robotic voicemail message sounds; I leave a message for Meyer to call when he has a chance.

Aiming
back toward Juno’s, I realize I might have had more to drink than was necessary. As I near Juno’s, the lights are still shining onto the walk out front.
Dammit, Christina, she’s still fucking drinking.
As I round the building to look through the window, I spot Juno sitting at the bar by herself.

I knock
on the glass. She crosses the room to open the door. Her brows rise as I walk into the warm room.

“Grey, what are you doing back here?”

I don’t answer right away. Instead I walk behind the bar and grab a bottle, forgoing a glass, and slide into the chair beside her. She lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag as she slides back into the chair.

“I’ve been
…I don’t know, Juno. I’ve been a mess.”

She smirks
. “You can say that again.”

I take
a long draw from the bottle before admitting, “This fight in a couple of weeks, I’ve wanted it my whole life. Twenty-eight years I’ve wanted this.”

She nods encouragingly
.

“Why
, in just one night, can I want something else so much more?”

She laughs a rough belly laugh.

“This is about a woman, isn’t it?”

I don’t answer but my
head bows.

“The pretty redhead
that was here the other night?”

I nod
, taking a sip, determined to drown her face from my memory. I know it won’t work but I can try.

“Grey, I don’t have any words for you. I’ve had my share of friends
, but this here is my love.” She pats the bar affectionately.

“
I will tell you that I’ve heard it happens like that, though. One minute you’re minding your own business and love comes along, sweeping you up in its grasp, and you don’t know which direction is up or down.”

I shake
my head in disagreement. “I don’t love her. I just fucking met the woman.”

She frowns at my
choice of language.

“Sorry.”

“Greylan, why are you here drinking with an old lady? Where is the girl? I’m sure she’s much better company.”

“She left.”

“So you drown your sorrows with this shit.” She grabs the bottle and moves to put it back behind the bar. I look at her, wondering where the double standard came about.

“You go home to bed and look at things in the morning. They might seem different. Oh and you owe me a brand new bottle of Jack.”

She grabs the phone behind the bar and calls for a cab as she holds her hand out to me. I roll my eyes and place the keys to the truck in her palm. My head falls onto my folded arms.
Bed sounds good.

***

I push the screen door, frowning as my step falters out into the damp alley. A rotten smell rises up from the dumpster on one end. I take another step, halting my foot as a scream rings through the night. My eyes narrow into a squint, trying to see through the dark. The two figures are obscured in the shadows. A scream calls out again, this time I hear Mollie’s voice yell my name. I cross the space in three long strides, pull the man away from her, and force my fist into his head as hard as I can. The sound of his skull hitting the brick wall is music to my ears. Blood splatters across my cheek and Mollie’s neck. But when I look down at her it’s not her face looking up at me. It’s Christina in shock.
I look at my hand splattered in red and down to the ground where the lifeless body lays.
My body starts thrashing in bed. I wake up to nausea moving through my stomach. I hurry to the bathroom and lean over the toilet to empty the contents of my stomach.

Back in the bedroom I check the time but it’s
still too early to go to the gym. I sink back into the mattress, a whiff of Mollie from the other day filling my nostrils. Closing my eyes, I try not to think about the dream but it returns. My fucked up head has now put Christina into the nightmare. Drifting back to sleep, I picture Mollie’s face the day she found me at the pond. I knew Meyer told her where I might be but she made the effort. She searched me out. That means something, doesn’t it?

A few hours later I wake
to the sun shining straight into my face. I roll over, relieved the nightmare didn’t come back. But when I drag myself out of bed I realize going to see someone might be a good idea. It’s getting bad if I’m picturing Christina in the dream.

***

The gym is busy when I arrive and Jackson seems to be waiting for something. When he spots me he beckons me over to the roped off section where two other fighters are sparring with each other. He glances over and back to the mat. “You look like hell.”

I smirk at my trainer’s words
. “I feel like hell.”

“Good,
I don’t want no pussy ass reasons why you missed yesterday.”

“I know…”

Jackson holds up his hand. “I don’t need any shit excuses. Just get dressed and be out here in five. I have a special treat today.” His smile spreads revealing the two golden teeth fastened in his mouth.

When I near
the ring, dressed in board shorts and a tank top, a man I don’t recognize is dancing around the mat, punching empty air. My body rests against the ropes next to Jackson. I watch the man for a moment before asking, “This is my surprise?”

“Yep.”

“Are you gonna tell me who he is?”

“Yep,
Jesus Reyes.”

I
can’t stop the shock mingled with a slight chuckle that escapes my mouth. I look over, surprised, but Jackson doesn’t respond.
Okay, if you want to play that shit game.

My legs lower
, allowing me to slink through the ropes. I begin warming up, bouncing on the balls of my feet, throwing hits and kicks at the air. As my heart pumps faster, I slow to a halt so that I’m face to face with the man I know very little about. We bump gloves and retreat a few feet, eyeing one another. As I round the mat with the guy, my eyes catch his movements, trying to commit them to memory. This is the only person that has beaten Parker Harris. I’m all over that because I’ll be the next one to accomplish it.