Let Go (3 page)

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Authors: Heather Allen

Tags: #fighter, #mma hero, #mma fighter romance

BOOK: Let Go
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The police
officer reaches for Greylan’s hand with his handcuffs. But Mollie’s
fingers dart out grabbing the officer’s arm, “Is that really
necessary?” Her grip is tighter than she had intended and sheer
dread crosses her features as she realizes what is happening.
Greylan has an urge to comfort her. The anger rises in him as he
thinks about how she must be feeling. His fury comes as he
remembers the other man’s hands on her body.

The officer
looks quickly to her hand and back up seemingly ashamed and states
while nodding, “It’s protocol.”

He fastens the
handcuffs on Greylans wrists in front of him, level with his waist.
The cool metal digs into his skin making him uncomfortable but he
looks to Red and states in an even tone, surprising himself and her
at how calm he is, “Find Meyer and tell him to meet me at the
police station. Tell him to get a hold of Carlo and Jimmy. And tell
them that I will need a lawyer.”

“I will. I’m
so sorry, Greylan.” Her eyes are downcast and petrified over the
scene. Tears start to fall down her cheeks again. Her head starts
shaking in remorse.

“I didn’t mean
for this to happen.”

Greylan
reaches his hands out awkwardly lifting her chin, “It’s not your
fault. He shouldn’t have forced himself on you. I should have been
there sooner.”

She stares
wide-eyed as he is secured in the back of the squad car. He looks
across the street and suddenly his stomach is turning in knots. His
dream just came true. Is it possible that he won and lost it all
within the same night?

Five Years Later

 

“Grey.” A deep
voice calls to Greylan through the metal bars that have been his
life for the past five years. He glances up with his arms on his
knees. His too-long dark hair hangs across his eyes as he looks up
at the guard.

The man calls
out, “It’s time buddy, you’re out.”

Greylan places
his hand hesitantly on the duffle bag situated next to him. He
braces himself and stands, eyeing the eight by eight cell he has
called home for the past fifty-eight months, just shy of five
years. The walls are stripped bare ready for the next occupant. A
buzz sounds through the space as the bars slide open on squeaky
wheels. He steps forward and nods to the guard as he turns to lead
them down the corridor to his freedom. They make their way to
another barred passage. The guard beyond pushes a button, freeing
the bars to move backwards, they squeak again, echoing through the
enclosed space. Trying hard not to think about anything that is
happening, Greylan trudges forward, his vision tunneled on the
guard leading him down the hall. His feelings are mixed, joy that
his freedom is mere steps away but terrified to meet the world he
hasn’t seen in so long.

A long counter
finally greets him with a glass window securing a woman beyond. She
is dressed in a black prison guard uniform. Her brown hair is piled
in a bun at the nape of her neck. She calls in a monotone voice
through a speaker in the transparent wall while loudly chewing on a
piece of gum, “Name?”

Greylan’s
voice comes out as a shallow whisper, “Greylan Pace.”

She nods and
turns to a wall situated with shelves and hundreds of small boxes
on each. She finds what she’s looking for and pulls out a large
manila envelope. She opens it as if this is a regular everyday
occurrence, which for her, it probably is. Her hands deftly move to
pour the contents into a small black basket. Greylan braces himself
for this moment. He hasn’t seen the items in that envelope for
years. They’ve been kept safely hidden away. Now as he eyes the
black banded watch and golden ring attached to a long glistening
chain, his heart skips a beat. Memories of the ring flood his mind.
The day his mom died, now seven long years ago, his dad placed the
ring securely in his palm. His words that day were so pained,
“Grey, I want you to have this. I know you’ll keep it safe.” He
should have known in that moment what his dad was planning. He
never parted with the ring etched with his family’s history. But he
was so overcome with his own grief that he never recognized the
signs.

“Sir?” The
woman’s voice is impatient.

Greylan looks
up as he palms the ring.

“Sir, we are
done. You are free to go.”

Greylan looks
over at the guard who led him here. He steps forward and states,
“Follow me.”

He walks
across the room to an ordinary glass door. Greylan can see the
bright sunshine beyond. He looks back to the woman behind the
counter and she smiles in acknowledgement of his glance. He
clenches his fist tighter on the bag that contains all of his
possessions. The guard stops and pushes the door open holding it
for Greylan to pass. He hesitates a moment before crossing into the
bright sun. He looks back just as the door closes and clicks
locked. A short walled walkway spans in front of him before ending
at an additional gate. He looks down to the dirt ground beneath his
feet and makes the walk, slowly with his breathing erratic as he
thinks about what is happening. As he approaches the gate in the
wall, a guard steps out of the shadows and looks at a clipboard. He
states, “You must be Greylan Pace.”

Greylan nods
in acknowledgement.

He looks up to
a short tower above them and nods his head while stating into a
walkie at his shoulder, “Greylan Pace. Open the gate.”

Those few
words change everything. The gate slowly moves forward displaying
the same dirt road underfoot and the same bright sun above, but in
that instant it all looks so different on the other side of the
metal. He steps forward forcing his pace to stay even. Once he
clears the gates they start their slow motion to close again. His
breathing evens out and he can taste freedom. He spent the five
years incarcerated, unable to do much of anything except think. Now
he can do things to stop the thoughts that haunt him every day. He
wants the nightmares to stop more than anything but knows he
deserves every single one of them. The man he killed is gone and he
is alive now able to live as he wants.

Pissed that
his thoughts have seeped back in again, he looks up as a small
framed figure steps from the grass beyond the road. Trinity. She
hesitates with a shy smile across her mouth. Greylan doesn’t care
at this point though. He rushes across the small two lane road and
drops his bag before lifting her into his arms. She nuzzles his
shoulder and whispers, “It’s so good to see you, Grey.”

“Hey,
Kid.”

It is better
than good seeing her. He has missed her beautiful face. When he
found out that he would have to spend time here for his crime in
that alley so long ago now, he refused to let her come and see him.
He didn’t want her to set foot in a place like this. She protested
every week when they spoke on the phone but he stood his ground.
Prison is not a place she should ever have to set foot in. It pains
him enough that she came to get him today. But her stubbornness
shone through when he suggested that he could get someone else to
pick him up. For the past week he’s braced himself for this moment.
The instant when they would be reunited and life could go back to
the way it was.

She smells
clean like soap and sunshine. He sets her down to get a good look.
Her hair is longer than he remembers and her face has matured. Her
cheeks are narrower but her nose, his favorite part about her is
still the same. Her small frame looks thinner than the last time he
saw her. The chocolate in her eyes show the stress of the day. He’s
sorry that he’s put her through any pain or stress. He has every
intention of making it up to her. He lifts his finger and gently
pushes her nose causing a huge smile and squirm. God, he missed
her.

She asks
unsure, “Are you hungry? Do you want to go and get something to
eat?”

He shakes his
head and admits, “Believe it or not, I’m tired. A real bed sounds
better than anything else right now.”

She assents in
a rush of breath, “Okay, so home it is.”

He grabs his
bag and squeezes her hand as they walk to her black SUV waiting in
the parking lot. As he slides in, the new leather smell hits his
nostrils. He looks around the car and glances over at her. She
seems nervous. He wants to alleviate any uneasiness she has but is
unsure how. It’s been years since they’ve been together and as much
as he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s changed. Calling a tiny cell
your home for five years and being told when to eat, when to sleep
and everything else that constitutes your life, does something to a
person. He knows that he deserved every minute of it. The fact that
another person lost their life as a result of his actions haunts
him every day.

He asks trying
not to dwell on his own ghosts, “Is this a new car?”

She nods and
dismisses it with a wave of her hand, “About a month old.”

As far as he
knows she’s been bartending at Brutis’ for the past few years. She
is slowly getting through college, paying her own way. When their
mom died, the insurance covered very little. Soon after her passing
they had to pay for their dad’s funeral. Anything after that came
straight from fights. But Trinity has had to work harder than he
would have ever wanted, since he’s been gone. He knows there is no
way she can afford a brand new car with what she makes unless
something has changed that she didn’t tell him about.

He squints at
her but her stare remains on the road. Maybe things aren’t as
different as he thought they were. He whispers, “Look at me
Trinity.”

She laughs
uneasily, “Grey, I’m driving, I can’t look at you.”

The car slows
at a red light but her eyes remain on the windshield in front of
them. He grabs her hand and asks, “Trinity, what are you not
telling me?”

She
reluctantly turns to look at him with a pained expression. His grip
on her hand loosens as terrible scenarios pass through his mind. Is
she doing something bad to earn money like exotic dancing or worse?
His hands clench, he’ll kill someone.

She shakes her
head, “Grey, I was going to tell you later when we were home. After
you got a chance to rest and get settled.”

“Tell me
what?” His voice is urgent and angry, both of which are
unintentional.

The light
changes and she looks ahead again. The car lurches forward and
silence spreads. The fact that she isn’t telling him something and
obviously doesn’t want to, has his adrenaline rising.

Greylan’s
voice comes out strained, “Trin, just tell me. You don’t want to
know what I am imagining, so make me feel better.”

She shakes her
head and softly explains, “Grey, things are different now. You
haven’t been around for so long and it’s been really hard working
and going to school on my own.”

Guilt and
anger mingle through him. “Just spit it out.”

“I met someone
Grey, he’s very important to me.”

Relief spreads
slightly through Greylan. His rigid body relaxes but then thoughts
of his sister with a man begin to flash through his mind and he
starts to rub his hands over his face.

“Okay Trinity,
you met someone. What does this have to do with the new car?”

“Can we just
talk about this at home when we aren’t enclosed in the car? I don’t
want you to be angry. I don’t want anything, to happen.”

Cause for
alarm crosses his mind. What is she so reluctant to tell him? Is
this person older than her? Are his original fears still a
possibility? Then her last words hit him right in the chest. She
doesn’t want anything to happen as in, his anger to get the better
of him. The last thing he wants is for her to think he can’t
control his emotions. The death of the guy in the alley was a
fluke, a complete accident. He never intended for it to happen.

He grabs her
hand and annunciates so his meaning is clear, “Trinity, I will not
be angry. I promise. Tell me where this car came from.”

The car shifts
into a wide driveway in front of a two-story brick brownstone.
Greylan looks forward taking it in. Home for them used to be a
small two bedroom apartment downtown, directly above Jane’s Diner.
It always smelled of stale oil from the fryers. On good days the
sweet smells of pies in the oven drifted up to fill the small
rooms. Now glancing at the large home situated in front of them,
Greylan’s stomach drops with fear tingeing his blood. He looks over
with surprise and concern etched across his face.

Trinity grabs
his hand and squeezes. She hesitates a moment before admitting,
“Greylan, I met someone and he takes good care of me. The car and
the house and school, I finished school six months ago. I wanted to
wait until you got out so that I could explain everything to
you.”

Greylan pulls
his hand away and sits silently absorbing her words.
She fucking
met someone.
He has a feeling she still isn’t telling him
something. He knows there must be more.

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