Healing Melody (24 page)

When I think the time is right, I step forward and help Monique get up. Holding her, I walk her back to the car.

Inside, we sit in silence. Then Monique says, “We have to make him proud, Kade. You and I are still here for a reason.”

“Sometimes I have a hard time believing that's true,” I confess to her.

That night, Monique stays over. She has nowhere else to go. We share the same bed but that is all. There’s only sadness and regret between us now.

The following morning, she asks if I can drop her off at Union Station so she can catch a bus back to Detroit.

“What's in Detroit?” I ask her on the way there.

“My church,” she replies. Then she glances at me. “You should go sometime, Kade. It helps. I’m a volunteer.”

“I do go to church,” I tell her. “Except mine doesn’t have any pews. It’s the cage.”

She smiles softly. At Union Station, I pay for her bus ticket. Before she boards, she turns to me and surprises me with a kiss goodbye on the lips.

“Take care of yourself,” she whispers.

“You too.”

As we stare at each other, I realize I may never see her again.

I hug her and say, “I’m so proud of you for getting clean.”

“I’m going to stay clean, for Max,” she replies.

Then she boards the bus and leaves.

I’m back at the gym. The media people that were gathered outside have left. Someone mentioned that one of those famous reality TV sisters was found having a threesome at an amusement park. With another story to follow, the swarm of paparazzi bees took off. My fifteen minutes of fame have gratefully come to an end. So, too, has the boycott of my gym. With the reporters and paparazzi gone, many of my clients return.

I fall back into my routine of managing the gym and training clients. I still haven't seen Shane. It's been five days since the fight, and I thought I'd be dead by now. After Monique left, I decided not to wait around for Shane to knock on my door. So, I went back to work. I wasn't going to run from him. Shane knew where he could find me.
 

I'm instructing that young kid, Rico, on the finer points of a double leg takedown. Luke, one of my trainers, is helping me demonstrate. The double leg takedown is a basic move but always effective.

“Put your lead foot between your opponent’s legs,” I tell Rico as I demonstrate on Luke. “Then, drop your knee to the floor. But make sure it’s behind his leg. Now you have to slide around your opponent's legs and wrap your arms around the back of his knees. Then step forward with your trailing leg and get onto your feet.” Holding Luke’s legs, I get up and knock him off balance. He crashes to the mat. Then I quickly pin him.

I look up at Rico. “Ready to give it a try?”

He nods. “Yeah. I think so.”

I get off Luke and offer him a hand up. “Give it a try on Luke.”

Rico steps forward and practices the move.

“Good,” I say as Rico takes Luke down. “Keep pressure on his torso with your shoulder when you got him down. Try it again.”

Rico and Luke get back on their feet. That’s when I see him. Shane is standing by the front door with Vince and Leo behind him. Slowly, he walks toward me. His eyes are steady, his face expressionless.

Shane snarls at Rico, “Lesson’s over, kid.”
 

Rico looks at me and I nod.
 

I order Luke, “Clear out the gym.”

“You sure, boss?” he asks, shooting me a worried look.

I nod. “Do as I say, Luke. Clear it out.”
 

Luke walks around the gym and tells everyone to leave. When my customers get the stare down from Vince and Leo, they get the hint, anyway. While this is going on, Shane and I just stare silently at each other. So, this is how it’s going to go down… in my gym. In a way, it’s sort of fitting.

When the last person leaves the gym, and the doorbell jingles behind him, Shane finally speaks. His voice is calm and even.

“These last couple of days, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Kade.”

I don't respond.
 

Shane begins to walk around the gym, stopping when he reaches the punching bag. He presses his hand against it – pushes it – so that it begins to sway. Then he glances at me. “You didn't run.”
 

“I’ve got nowhere to go,” I reply. “This gym is all I have.”

“Too bad I own it,” Shane taunts.

He walks toward me. He eyes Vince and Leo and nods. The two of them start pulling down the window shades, and they lock the front door.

“You should've skipped town, Kade.” He walks up to me and whispers, “Now, you've put me in a tough spot.”

“You've got to do, what you’ve got to do,” I tell him, looking him straight in the eyes.

For a brief second, I think I see some sympathy, but then it disappears. Shane takes a deep breath and nods. “I lost a lot of money on that fight.”

“You want to add that to my tab?” I reply.

He looks at me, smirks, and then hits me with a left. My jaw stings. I’m about to swing back, but his henchmen pull out their guns.

“Not yet!” shouts Shane as he massages his hand. I guess it hurts from hitting me.
 

He takes a deep breath and exhales threw his nostrils. He stares at me and huffs. “Kade, I'll be honest with you. I don't want to kill you. You saved my life when we were kids. And on top of that, you're one of my best whores. But you can't disrespect me and expect to get away with it.”

I sigh. “Shane, fighting is all I have. I've lost everything else. I couldn't throw the fight.”

He looks at me and sighs. Then he wags his finger and says, “That’s some sentimental bullshit, dude. What good is honor if you can't even feed yourself?”

I don't bother to reply. Shane and I see the world differently. We always have and always will. In his view, it’s kill or be killed, make money or lose money. Everything is black and white, and there’s no room for grey.
 

“You still seeing that burned-up chick?” he asks.

“No.”

“She pay up?”

I nod. “I got two hundred grand.”

That gets his attention. “It's yours,” I declare.

He nods. “Good. That should settle all of Max’s medical bills.” He looks at me. “You and I would've been square if you didn't let your sense of honor get in the fucking way, Kade. Why’d you have to be such a fuckin’ idiot? I was about to give you back your gym. But then you go and fuckin’ disrespect me by not throwing the fight.”

“I told you. It wasn't about disrespecting you. It had nothing to do with you.”

“I lost three hundred grand because of you!” he shouts.

“And I took a bullet in my back to save your life,” I comeback, staring him straight in the eyes.

He doesn't respond. He just keeps looking at me. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to do. He glances down at the ground and takes a breath. Then he looks at me and shrugs.

He pulls out his gun.

I can hear the audience outside my dressing room. They’re chanting my name. Randy is ecstatic; the Forum is sold out.

“I told you they’d forgive you,” she says, beaming. I stare at her reflection in my dressing room mirror. I feel sick.

She squeezes my shoulders.
 

“Now, just remember to thank the fans for all their support while you were recovering. And thank the label too, if you can. I want to make sure we stay on their good side.”

“Randy, why couldn’t we have started with a small show? I’m not even comfortable leaving my house yet and I’m performing my first show at the Forum? This is crazy,” I complain. “Why couldn’t we have done something at the Whiskey A Go-Go or a smaller venue? There are over 17,000 people out there, Randy. I’m not ready.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” says Randy staring back at my reflection. “The label–”

I hold up my hand, cutting her off. “Enough with the fuckin’ label!” I shout, shaking my head.

Randy squeezes my shoulders, trying to calm me down. “Once you’re out there, you’ll feel comfortable again. You’re just having some jitters.”

I shrug her off. I’m annoyed and wracked with nerves.

“I’m going to have 17,000 people scrutinize me,” I tell her. “They’re going to take pictures of me. Then they’re going to inspect the photos, analyze the scars on my hands, my neck. Then the reviews are going to come in. The comments will be focused on my mask and how I carried myself after the accident. My entire being will be dissected after this first show… scrutinized, critiqued.”
 

I feel tension forming in my chest. That queasy sensation in my stomach grows.

I don’t want to deal with the negative comments, the hurtful statements about my appearance. Sure, people say not to pay attention to them. But with Twitter and Facebook, they’re always there, just a click away. I’m not strong enough to face all of that. Not yet. I’m not ready. I know Kade said ‘you’re never ready’, but my body is going into full-blown panic mode as I contemplate stepping on stage.
 

I feel like I’m about to vomit.
 

“Are you okay, Melody?” Randy asks.
 

I look at her and shout. “Leave!”
 

Randy looks at me, shocked. She slowly walks to the door.
 

Once she’s gone, I stare at my reflection. I’m still wearing my mask, even though my last surgery has helped with most of the scarring. I’m just not comfortable taking it off in front of anyone… but him. Randy says the label doesn’t care if I wear the mask. They think it lends gravitas to my show.

The show.

I can’t put on a show.

Not in front of all those people.

The thought brings on another wave of nausea, and that tightness in my chest intensifies. I try to calm down and control my breathing.
 

God, I wish he were here. Ever since our last phone conversation, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. He’s the only thing that seems real to me anymore. When I was with him, it was the only time I felt grounded and not afraid.
 

There’s a knock at the door. “Five minutes,” someone shouts.

I turn back to the mirror and fidget with my mask. My hands are shaking. I don’t think I can go through with this. I don’t think I can face them – all of them – staring at me. I start getting the shivers, and my whole body breaks out in a sweat. My breath catches in my throat.

“Four minutes,” someone shouts.

The room begins to spin, my vision blurs.

There’s another knock at the door. “Melody, do you need anything?”

I turn and see Suzie. I wave her to come in. She closes the door behind her.

“I can’t breath,” I manage to get out.

She rushes to my side. She kneels down and grabs my hands. She looks me straight in the eyes.
 

“You’re having a panic attack,” she says calmly.

“No shit,” I say, still struggling for air.

“Look at me, Melody. Just take deep breaths with me. Here we go, one…”

Suzie takes a deep breath and I try to follow her, but then I shake my head.

“I can’t do this, Suzie. I can’t go out there.”

“I know this is scary, Melody. But you can do this.”

I vigorously shake my head. I feel myself tearing up, near hysterics.

“I can’t.”

“Yes -”

“I can’t!” I shout. I beg her, “Please, Suzie. Get me out of here. Please.”
 

She looks at me, concerned. “Are you sure, Melody?”

I nod. “I just want to go home,” I cry. I sound like a scared little girl – which at this moment is exactly what I am.

“But there’s a whole crowd – ”

“I don’t care,” I say, cutting her off. “I can’t face them. I’m not ready.”

Suzie looks at me and realizes how serious this is. “Okay,” she says softly. “There’s going to be hell to pay but grab my arm.”

Suzie helps me up, out of the chair. She grabs some of my things and walks me out of the dressing room.
 

She takes me home.