No Regrets (No Regrets #1) (4 page)

Chapter 4

A soft sound echoes through my thoughts. I wince and my
whole body shakes with the realization of what the noise is. I open my eyes, staring at the ceiling. Theodore James’ lifeless body skirts past my vision. I close my eyes, trying to shake the nightmare. I know without a doubt that this is what I deserve. I’m forced, on most nights, to relive that moment when the life seeped out of the other man’s body. I shudder every time that it was all my fault.

My body shifts from the bed and I head
for the shower. I have a meeting with my parole officer and then it’s back to the gym with Carlo. Parker arranged yesterday for me to drive his other car for a while, a white Ford pick-up loaded with leather and everything else a rugged truck shouldn’t have. Maybe there are some differences between me and Parker after all. I see the necessity in things. Parker seems to need the flash. Maybe it’s just our respective backgrounds. Although I know very little about his background except that he was brought up by a wealthy family in a lush part of Jersey. This would explain his preferences, anyway. For Trinity’s sake, I have every intention on finding out as much as I can about the guy. I shake my head in disappointment every time I think about the choices my sister has made while I was gone.

I
climb down the stairs to find Trinity situated snuggly in Parker’s lap at the kitchen table. I avert my gaze and aim for the fridge. Again, an apartment of my own is looking like a really good idea. But that requires an income, which I am lacking at the moment.

When I turn
back to the table, Trinity has moved to a chair beside Parker. Her hair is piled on top of her head and her face is free of makeup. She lifts her coffee cup and smiles over the rim. “Hey, Grey, how are you?”

Parker
teases, “Yeah, how are you? Are you sore from your ass kicking yesterday?”

Trinity punches him in the arm
. “Parker, leave him alone. Just wait until he trains more, you’ll be sorry you ever opened your mouth.”

I sit
across from them and pick at the plate of fruit in the center of the table. I look up after popping a grape into my mouth. “You know, dude, she’s right. Give me a couple of weeks.”

Parker smirks and stands
, suddenly seeming full of misplaced energy. “I’ll take you up on that, Greylan. Carlo can set it up.”

My
fingers move over the fruit as I look up to see Trinity in Parker’s arms, her face resting against his chest. Something isn’t sitting right. My uneasiness toward Parker is normal big brother stuff but there’s something else I’m still uncomfortable with. Parker releases her and calls back over his shoulder as he leaves the kitchen, “You two have a great day. See you later.”

Trinity moves back into the cha
ir, brings her feet up, and rests her chin on her knees. A moment passes before she says in appreciation, “Grey, thank you for accepting all of this.”

I swallow a sip of
juice before admitting, “You know, Trin, I really don’t have much of a choice.”

She looks away
, so I assure her, “Don’t get me wrong, I like the guy. He seems genuine. I’m not happy that you picked a fighter, though.”

She
pleads, “Come on, Grey, you don’t always get to choose. Sometimes love chooses you.”

I am so against this theory of hers. I shake my head
. “I’m not sure I agree with you. But if this is your choice, then I’ll support you.”

Her smile brightens and she ho
ps out of her chair, tackling me in a hug. The chair almost falls over with the force but my foot halts the tilt. I laugh at how she’s still my little sister no matter what. And as much as my apprehension toward Parker is there, I won’t mention it to Trinity; at least not until there’s a reason for it. I’ve been gone a while and the men I lived with in closed quarters were anything but trustworthy. It may just be my guarded way of approaching things out of habit.

After getting dressed
, Trinity drives me to the appointment with my parole officer. We arrive at two o’clock on the dot. A tiny receptionist ushers us down a hall into the small office of Jane Mason. Upon entering the sparsely decorated office, I notice that she’s the opposite of anything I would call feminine. An ugly brown jacket is fitted over a blue and white striped button down shirt. Her dark hair is cut short in a boy cut ending at the nape of her neck and her voice, as she speaks into the phone receiver resting on her shoulder, is deep. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been a smoker for a large part of her life, which looks to be probably all of forty or forty-five years. But the lines above her lips from the habit make the years seem more. She ushers us into the stained chairs facing her desk, which is barely recognizable because it’s covered two feet high with piles of papers and folders.

She continues speaking into the
phone. I can tell she’s making Trinity uneasy.

“Yeah, Sam, I think it’s a given. He’
s gonna run. Have a bounty drawn up on him and get to it.”

She hangs up and leans
forward. Her hands grasp a folder splayed out in front of her as she scans the contents.

“It says here you went away for
killing Theodore James.”

I wince
at her words. Relaying those words in my mind is bad enough. When they’re spoken, my heart falls, as it makes it all so much more real. I nod in acknowledgement. I’m suddenly angry with this woman. She gave no introduction nor asked me anything before diving in about my crime. But Trinity distracts me.

She
forces out, “It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t mean it.”

Jane Mason turns her gaze to Trinity. She stares a moment before stating, “You must be the sister. I
can see the resemblance; same brown eyes.” She looks between us. “Same color hair. That’s about it though, isn’t it? He’s a lot bigger than you, huh? Able to land a punch on someone that will put the lights out.”

Trinity frowns and I
can tell she’s about to make another statement so I grab her hand and squeeze. She glances over to see me shake my head slightly.

Jane sets the folder down after another minute and straig
htens up. That’s when I notice a coffee stain on the lapel of her jacket. I scan the room and realize I’m just a number to this chick. My story or even my name means nothing. She couldn’t care less. She probably sees me as scum just for going to prison. I know she won’t give me any slack but I don’t want any, either. What I did probably qualifies me as scum to most people.

He
r voice comes out even as she informs me of the rules. “Okay, here’s the deal. You make it here to my office once a month. We will set the date for the next month each time you come. You need to update me on your search for a job and anything else you’re doing to get back into society legally. Under no circumstances are you to leave Jersey, and I shouldn’t have to say this, but every time some schmuck doesn’t take me seriously, they go back to the slammer.” She leans closer to the piles on her desk. “Don’t break the law or you’ll find yourself back in prison for a longer stint this time.”

She moves back
, leaning into her chair lazily. “Are we clear?”

I shift my head
in agreement. I have nothing to say to this woman. She’s passing the time in this shit job that she obviously hates. I squeeze Trinity’s hand harder, reminding her not to utter any other words. I wouldn’t trust this woman with my life. She’s not worth my sister’s attempt.

Jane places her hands together over her stomach
. “Okay, we’re done then. Mr. Pace, a job would be in your best interest. I want to hear about your progress with that next month.”

I stand
, pulling Trinity up as she glares daggers at the woman behind the desk. I smirk at my sister’s protectiveness and lead her out the door and down the hall. Once we leave the desolate building, she releases my hand and moves in anger. “I just, oh my God, Grey, can she be any more of a bitch? What the hell? Can you request a different parole officer?”

A chuckle leaves my mouth
at her ferociousness and I shake my head. “No, Trin, it’s okay, though. I only have to see her once a month. You saw how quick it was.”

She shakes her head as we
near the car. “I know, but, Grey, come on. Can she get any more ugly and mean?”

I
understand her anger but this is what I get. I will take whatever I must at this point. I still have my life, which is more than Theodore James.

Trying to change
the subject, needing to get her mind off of my situation, I tell her, “Hey, let’s go get my license so I don’t have to depend on you so much.”

She rolls her
eyes and slips into the car. I shake my head at what a spitfire my sister is.

When we get back to the house
, I stroll into the kitchen for a snack. Trinity sits quietly watching me; her worry for my life is apparent on her face. I give her a questioning look and wonder what’s going through her thoughts.

“Grey, I was just thinking
… what will you do for a job?”

My hand
closes the cabinet I just glanced into, not finding anything to fill the sudden void in my stomach. I skirt around the table and scoot a chair closer to her. I rest my arm on the table as I face the worry across my sister’s features.

“Trinity, I’m really not sure what I
should
do.”

She rests her hand over mine
.

“Grey, you have taken care of me f
or a good part of my life. When Mom got sick, it seems so long ago now, you promised her that you would always take care of me. And when she died, you committed to that promise you made. I never wanted for anything and I finished school like a normal teenager because of you.”

I look away
, remembering those moments when our mom made me promise. She was so small and frail from the cancer. She knew though, the day she was diagnosed a year earlier, that this would be it for her. She did everything she could to prepare us. Trinity was only seventeen when we got the news. It was up to me at twenty to take on the role of caregiver for both of us. I wanted her to fight. It took everything in me not to scream at her every night when she finally gave up. But I promised all those years ago, and I failed when I left Trinity to take care of herself with no warning.

Her voice is sad
. “Hey, I know what you’re thinking. I needed to be alone, though. I had to grow up sometime.”

“Not like that
, Trin. I left without any warning. That wasn’t fair to you or the promise I made Mom.”

“Stop it. Don’t beat yourself up over t
his. I needed the space, Grey. It was important for me to find myself.”

I look
across the kitchen as if searching for an answer and then turn back to her. “Do you think this is it, though? Parker is the first person you have ever dated. Don’t you think you should, um, I’m going to hate myself for saying this, but play the field first before committing to someone for the rest of your life?”

Her brows go up
. “You were gone for five years. Do you really want to know about my life while you were gone? Let me just fill you in that Parker is
not
my first boyfriend. I know you want to believe I’m your innocent little sister, but…”

My hands move over my ears and I start
humming, “Lalalala, I can’t hear you.”

She laughs and pulls my
hands down.

“Okay, to
o much information, I get it. Just know, Grey, that all of these things have happened for a reason. I have to believe that. It sucks that you were gone for so long and I missed you so much, but you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

I lift my finger and push
her nose in. She doesn’t squirm, instead she smiles. My grin spreads and I remove my finger. “Okay, so what’s a good job for a college graduate with a business degree that has never been used?”

“Let’s check the classifieds. Maybe we’ll find something interesting.”

My eyes roll at her excitement.

Chapter 5

A week after the visit with my parole officer, I’m on my way to see Jimmy T. Five years ago I left this life behind. It wasn’t a choice I would have made, but it happened, and as much as possible, I’ve faced it. Jimmy and Carlo came to see me a few times but they got busy with their own lives and dropped off after a while. I can’t hold it against them because life happens. That night at Brutus’ was the last time I saw Meyer. A month after the sentencing, a letter came from him. It was painful but I’ve known Meyer for most of my life. Facing his own demons was always the hardest thing for him. I always knew he wouldn’t be able to face the events of that night and I was right, unfortunately. If Meyer and I ever meet up again, it will be on his terms and not mine.

The
forty-five minute drive to the Westside gives me time to think and plan. Carlo mentioned a few days ago that I should go see my old manager, but it took a call from Carlo to force this trip. I pull the truck up to the small shopping center situated on the corner of a busy four-way stop. A glass fronted door faces the sparse parking lot. Etched into the clear window are the words
James Turner, Amateur MMA Representative
. I sit for a moment with my hands on the steering wheel as thoughts surface of a conversation I had with Jimmy T one night after a fierce fight that we almost lost. Jimmy was hyped up on the win. We were out celebrating and he painted a grand picture of our futures. I remember his slight frame stood on a wooden chair proclaiming to the bar, “People, do you see this guy here?” He pulled me up beside him and pointed like a crazy person. “This guy, you remember his name, Greylan Pace. Remember it, people, because one day, it’s going to be a household name. You’ll say one day, hey, I saw that guy in a bar.” At the time the whole scene made me uncomfortable, but Jimmy had plans and dreams, not so different from my own.

I shake
my head at how I let everyone down. My eyes glance at the building in front of the truck as I switch the key in the ignition.

Reluctantly
, I pull the door open to a flush of warm air as I step inside. A woman behind a short desk is leaning back in her chair, a phone resting on her shoulder as she examines her long, neon green nails. She looks up as I enter. Her face is painted with way too much makeup and her purple tank top and yellow skirt, completely wrong for the frigid air outside, seem a couple of sizes too tight. She exclaims into the phone, smacking her gum, “Yeah, girl, my future husband just walked in, I gotta go.”

She bats her eyelashes
while chewing her gum. “Hey, sugar, what can I do for ya?”

“Um, I’m here to see Jimmy, uh
, I mean James Turner.”

“Oh baby, a
re you sure you came to see him? I can show you a better time than he can.”

A chuckle escapes my lips as I smile at her
. “Yeah, I definitely need to see James.”

Sh
e looks away sadly and lifts the phone receiver, whispering into it. “Yeah, you have a visitor.” There’s a pause and then she yells into the phone, “Damned if I know who he is! You come out and find out for yourself!” She slams the phone down and pointedly scans my body. She smirks and asks, “You sure, honey?”

“I’m sure
.” I mumble as Jimmy walks out, shaking his head.

He warns, “Daphne
, if you weren’t my niece, you’d be out on your ass.”

He glances up
at me and his voice booms out, “Well, well, if it ain’t Greylan Pace.”

As with Carlo, Jimmy has changed
, too. His weight has done the opposite. He’s thinner and his long face has gained many lines along his forehead and around his mouth. No doubt he started smoking again. His light hair has thinned with age and a hard life of drinking.

“Hey
, Jimmy.”

“Carlo said you were out. I didn’t realize you were coming
out this way today.”

“Yeah, I uh, I need a job
.” My voice is hesitant.

Jimmy eyes his
niece, who is staring at me, almost drooling.

“Daphne
, I just warned you. That’s it, you’re fired.”

“What
ever, Jimmy. You can’t fire me. My mom’ll have your hide.”

Jimmy shakes his head i
n exasperation. “Hey, come on back where we can have some privacy.” He glares at Daphne before walking down a narrow hall covered in wood paneling. It reminds me of my childhood home in a Jersey suburb.

Jimmy gestures
to a tiny office with stacks of papers covering every surface. He surges to the lone chair facing his desk and with one swipe, the papers scatter to the floor. He gestures for me to sit. My body sinks into the cushioned chair as he skirts around the broad wooden desk laden with clutter and more papers. He perches on the edge of his worn leather chair. “I’m not really sure what you think I can do for you, Grey.” Before I have a chance to respond, he adds, “You gave everything up when you went away. None of us had much of anything after that. It was like the well dried up.”

My eyes widen
, shocked by the accusation and guilt. I realize this was a mistake. Placing my hands on the arms of the chair, I push to my feet and turn to leave. Jimmy’s voice halts any progress toward the door I’ve made.

“I’m sorry
, but truthfully, Greylan, you don’t want anything to do with me. I have a reputation and it’s not a good one.”

I
turn, eyeing him curiously.

“I became a gem of bad luck to the fighters after what happened. I had no hope ever representing a pro. You were it.”

My shoulders sink at his words. I drop back into the chair, resigned and defeated. I look around at the peeling paint on the walls and the windows that haven’t been cleaned in probably years.

“Jimmy, it was an accident. If I could go
back to that night and take it all back, I’d do anything to make that happen.”

Jimmy slinks into his chair
, leaning as far back as it will go. He pulls a pack of cigarettes off the desk, shaking one out. He lights it, squinting at me through the smoke. As he exhales, he proclaims, “Believe me, I know, Grey. I guess you being here brought it all back. What we all lost. I was pissed at you for a long time, but it’s done. Nothing’s gonna change what’s already happened.” He studies the smoke curling from the end of his cigarette. “Are you thinking about going back into the cage?”

A few beats of my
heart pass before the words come out. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I need a job at the moment. After that we’ll see. Things have changed.”

“Yeah, you can say that again. The only fighters I get anymore are amateurs. None of them are goo
d enough. Once they realize how short their road is, I’m out the cash because they change to a desk job. It’s a vicious cycle.”

Curious
, I question, “Why are you still at it then, Jimmy? It’s been five years. You could have switched, done something different.”

He
shakes his head. “Are you, of all people, telling me to move on? Are
you
moving on?”

My stare moves
to the worn brown carpet underfoot. Am I done? No, I haven’t felt as alive as being on the mat over the past week has made me feel. I glance back up and shake my head with a smirk.

Jimmy smiles
, dragging on his cigarette. “Didn’t think so. It’s a hard beat to give up.”

I shift
in the chair. “Any thoughts on what someone of my caliber could do to pass the time for a while?”

Jimmy puts out his cigarette in an overflowing ashtr
ay situated in the only empty space on the desk. He stands, gesturing me to follow him out the door. He strides to Daphne’s desk. She’s on the phone again, twirling the cord in her fingers. Jimmy calls her name. “Daphne.”

She looks up and continues talking into the receiver as if he isn’t there. Jimmy impatiently presses the button
, causing the dial tone to ring on the line.

She huffs
. “Really, Jimmy, was that necessary?”

“Yes
, now get your fat ass up and go get me my lunch.”

“I’m gonna tell Mom
you’re talking to me like that.”

“Daphne
, I don’t give a shit. Tell your mom whatever you want. I shouldn’t have to pay you to sit around all day talking on the phone.”

She shoulders her purse
and pouts, looking over Jimmy’s shoulder at me. Her sad eyes force my own to look away. She trudges out the door as Jimmy moves things around on her desk muttering, “I know she has it here somewhere.”

He opens a drawer and spots
what he’s looking for. He pulls out a business card and scribbles something on the back. He holds it out and explains, “Juno here owes me a favor. She usually has something open, so just tell her I sent you.”

I palm it and look down
. It has scrawled lettering across the front advertising, Juno’s Jackpot Bar.

“A bar?”
My words are laced with surprise.

Jimmy shrugs
. “Grey, it’s the best I can do. Times are hard for all of us right now.”

“Okay
, thanks.”

I push my
hand out. Jimmy takes it in both of his. “When you start the climb back up, you let me know. I’ll happily represent you if you need a manager.”

Before
turning to walk out into the chilly day, I tell him, “I will, Jimmy. I will.”

Once through the door
, I shove the card into my pocket, jamming my hands in further to keep warm. A job at a bar, I never thought it would come to this.

When I pull
the truck into the driveway, Trinity comes skipping out to the driver’s side door. She’s barefooted, dressed in sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt. Leaving the truck, I try to show disappointment across my face. “Trinity, you’re gonna catch your death out here. Get back in the house.”

She chuckles and shakes her head
. “I can take care of myself. How’d it go? Is Jimmy gonna get you back in?”

I shake
my head at her naivety. She really thought it would be that easy to get back into the cage? She doesn’t have a clue. The thought of Parker living here with her, sharing a bed, crosses my mind and I’m suddenly pissed.
Where that thought came from I have no clue, but it’s shitty.
I rush past her to the door.

“Grey, did I say something?”

“No, Trin, it’s me. Don’t worry.” I tell her over my shoulder.

My
feet move swiftly up the steps. I close the door to my room tightly and grab the borrowed bag, loading clothes for the gym into it. I have a sudden urge to hit something.

***

The gym is busy. People are sparring and training. I scan the room for Carlo but he’s not at the ring where he’s usually situated. It doesn’t matter. My purpose was to come and let go of some of this anger. At that thought I spot Parker across the gym, a smug look on his face as he spars with another guy. Quickly I duck into the locker room, wanting to see Parker’s face less than anyone else. Ready to beat something up, I head straight to a row of black bags suspended from the ceiling. My routine takes over, wrapping my hands in the gloves and relentlessly beating on a bag. The muscles in my arms cord up from the pressure. The bag swings back with each connection. An image of Parker’s face appears in front of me as I hit the bag harder with each punch. The more I get to know the guy, the less I like him.

After a good hour of beating the bag
, Carlo walks up and claps me on the shoulder.

“Hey
, Grey, I didn’t see you come in today. That bag is getting a good beating.”

My arm stops for a minute
. His voice seems strained, like he’s trying to make light of things but he’s really bothered by something. I know Carlo too well.

A year b
efore the accident we were training. I had just won my first amateur bout the night before and Carlo was eager to continue the winning streak. We were down in the basement of his house. He came in making a joke but it fell short. Later I found out that his wife had been diagnosed with breast cancer earlier in the week. It was too late; the disease was already spreading to her lungs. She died within six months. It was quick, unlike my mom’s suffering with brain cancer that lasted over a year. As much as I hated that someone had to go through what I had, it brought us closer. A week after she died, Carlo called me and poured everything he had into my training.

Now he’s acting like he did that
night in the basement. As if he’d just heard the worst news ever. I turn to the hand on my shoulder and ask, “Carlo, what is it? Don’t tell me nothing, ‘cause I know you.”

He
scoots a metal chair from the wall and sinks into it, perching on the edge. His face is downturned and his hands are rubbing the tough skin of his cheeks. He looks up after a moment. My hands clench because the adrenaline from hitting the bag is still coursing through my veins.