Worth the Fight
Page 30I send the elevator down and wait patiently as it comes back up. I’m done with him and he’s gonna know it. Practically ripping the lift gate off the hinges, I throw it open, ready to pounce on Preach. “What the f**k!”
The confused visitor takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. For a second, I’m confused, almost not recognizing the man retreating in my elevator car fully dressed.
“Wooo, man. If it’s not a good time, I’ll split.”
I just stand there, not knowing what to say or do. I’m a little shell-shocked to see him. His face relaxes a little as my anger is replaced by confusion.
“You gonna invite me in, or kick my ass again?” Trevor smiles. His face is bruised and cut, but he’s standing there, inside my elevator, looking better than I do.
I finally step aside, motioning silently for him to enter. Trevor walks in and whistles approvingly. “Nice space.” I watch as he looks around, his eyes falling to the championship belt that I haven’t touched since Preach threw it at me two days ago. It’s sitting on the floor in the living room.
Trevor laughs, “If that was my belt, I’d still be wearing it. Bet that thing can land allota good tits and ass.”
I’m not laughing with him when he turns his attention on me, understanding spreading across his face as he speaks. “That’s right, you don’t need any of that shit. That little lawyer of yours is hot as hell, but sure is a handful. She could sell ice to an eskimo.” He shakes his head as if he’s reflecting.
My fists clench at my sides at the mention of Elle. Who does this clown think he is walking into my house and talking shit about my girl? Like a good fighter, he reads my face and knows there’s trouble coming. Throwing his hands up again in mock surrender, he chirps out, “Take it easy man, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. She’s a great lady.”
“What do you know about Elle?” Throwing your hands up isn’t going to make me stop when you talk about Elle, but it will make it easier for me to rip your eyes from the socket so you never check her out again.
“She came to see me, man. I was a perfect gentleman, calm down. I’m not stupid enough to risk a beat down twice from you.”
I force myself to relax my balled fists. “Look, I’m lost on what you’re talking about. You wanna help me out here?”
He’s got my attention now. Trevor looks into my eyes, man to man when he continues. “My brother wasn’t your fault. We don’t blame you. It could have been any fighter in there. Could have happened to any one of us, even me. His head wasn’t right. Doctors said it was a slow bleed and could have gone off at any time.”
I’m listening to the words, but can’t believe they’re being spoken. “If I don’t blame you, why are you still blaming yourself?” I’ve no answer for his question either.
“Listen, man. Deep down, I knew I didn’t have a shot with you either. But the fight was good for me, gave me the exposure I needed to make a name for myself. You know the grudge crap was all to sell tickets.” He walks towards the open elevator, putting his hand on my shoulder as he passes.
Trevor lifts the gate and it looks like he’s going to walk out, but then he turns back to me. “Frankie wouldn’t want you carrying this around with you. He thought you were the shit. Used to watch you on T.V. all the time, and try to memorize your moves. He’d want you to get your lazy ass back in the cage and show ‘em how it’s done.” He lifts a hand, offering me a wave, and takes a step into the waiting elevator car. “And if that doesn’t get your head out of your ass, I’m giving you twenty-four hours to go after the lawyer. If she isn’t smiling pretty by then, I’m calling fair game for me trying my hand at putting it back on her face.” He slams the gate down, securing the latch. Smart man, putting steel between us after the last comment.
Chapter 49
Elle
I’ve worn a bare patch in the area rug in my living room today. Sometimes the best intentions wind up being the nails that build the house of failure. Trevor said he would go see him, and he sounded genuine, but I’m not even sure if he really did. Worse, what if he did go to him and Nico sees my going behind his back as traitorous…unforgivable.
And then my phone rings and my heart races with hope. But it’s quickly stomped on when I see Regina’s face flashing on the screen. Not that I don’t appreciate her constant checking on me since she left this morning, but it’s not the face I long to see on my screen.
Regina wants me to meet her, go to a meeting. I really don’t want to, I’m in no mood for cheering up. I prefer to stay home and sulk with my good friends Ben and Jerry. But she’s worried about me and that, in turn, means she won’t take no for an answer. She’s relentless until I finally agree, and in all honesty, I do it just to shut her up. I don’t think I need a meeting, but I agree to go anyway because I know she won’t sleep tonight if I don’t.
***
Grief counseling meetings are sort of like AA meetings. People come and go, some losing their battle to move past their grief, others succeeding in their efforts and sharing their stories. Regina and I attended meetings in the basement of this community center for more than ten years. For years I attended three times a week, never sharing my story with anyone, but listening to people helped me…knowing I wasn’t alone in my battle. It’s where I met Regina.
I recognize a few faces as we take our seats in the back row, some have been here for ten years like us, for others it may be their first time. Anyone can share their story, there’s supposed to be no judgment between members. After ten minutes, I start to relax. As much as I hate to admit it, Regina was right for bringing me here. The past few days have opened up old wounds, and there is comfort in hearing the leader’s kind words on forgiveness. It also makes me think I did the right thing with Nico, even if he doesn’t recognize it. I’d rather him heal and hate me than suffer and stand by my side.
The usual group leader announces a new member would like to speak. We’re reminded of the phone’s off rule, and I’m still digging in my disorganized bag in search of my phone when the voice hits me. I know it’s him, but when I look up I still can’t believe what my eyes are seeing. He doesn’t look up as he speaks quietly.
“A smart woman told me to come here months ago...but I was too stubborn to listen.”
Nico inhales deeply, pushing a loud breath out before he begins, his face still looking down.
“Eighteen months ago I killed a man. I didn’t intend to, but it happened anyway. I’m a fighter and it happened in the cage. The ref ruled it a clean hit, but it doesn’t change that it was my hand that dealt him the blow that killed him.
I’ve spent the last year of my life under a cloud of guilt and shame. I went on, going through the motions every day, but I was dead too. I grieved for the loss of the man, and the loss of who I was. For a whole year. A year of my life that I can’t get back. But it wasn’t until today that I realized I even lost it.”
Nico pauses and I hold my breath as I watch his head slowly rise. His eyes find mine instantly, just like every other time. Everything else in the room disappears and it’s as if we’re the only two in a long tunnel, sitting on opposites ends, but inexplicably drawn to each other.
“Then today I was given a gift. A gift by an amazing woman. She gave me the gift of forgiveness because I thought that was what I needed to move on. But I was wrong. No one was keeping me from moving on, only me. She taught me more about fighting for what you want than I’d learned spending half my life in the cage. I finally get it…what makes us move on is to accept what we feel and share it.”
Nico’s voice becomes shaky and I fight the urge to go comfort him, but I can’t hold back the stream of tears that fall from my face silently.
“Today I made peace with it, Babe. And you gave that to me. I only wish there was something I could give you back that meant as much as what you did for me. But there isn’t one thing big enough to call it even. So if you’ll have me, I want to spend the next fifty or sixty years trying to repay you…saying thank you every day. Because you, lady, are all I need.”
My feet can’t get to him fast enough. I almost knock over two rows of folding chairs in front of me, trying to make my way. But when I finally do, he holds me so tight that everything else fades away and I know we’re going to be okay. As long as we have each other.
Six months later
Elle
It’s almost one on Saturday afternoon when I leave the office. Nico asked me to come to the gym to help him with something. He’s being elusive, won’t tell me what it’s all about. There’s a bit of a knot in my stomach as I drive, hoping I’m not going to be hearing bad news. The last six months have been the happiest time in my life. I hadn’t even realized what I’d been missing till I met Nico Hunter. But he has another fight coming up soon and I worry he may have heard news that could push him back. We’ve made such progress, individually and as a couple. Both of us finally putting our past in its place and moving forward…together. We don’t try to drown it out anymore, like it or not, our past is our own, and it’s made us who we are today. Accept and move on.
I’m surprised when I find the gym almost empty. Usually on Saturdays the place is filled with guys with no necks. Sal’s at the front desk and tells me Nico’s waiting for me in the storage room. The storage room is a big open space, almost half the size of the gym, only it’s unfinished and bare, with a few metal shelves lining the walls and some decade-old file cabinets. Nico must be filing paperwork, something he dreads and lets pile up for way too long.
The storage room is dark when I open the door and I’m just about to pull the door shut when a nameplate on the door catches my eye. The Women’s Annex. I don’t recall ever seeing it before and certainly I would have remembered anything that has to do with women in this macho male gym.
Curiosity gets the best of me, so I reach in and switch on the light, stunned at the vision I find before my eyes as they adjust from the darkness. What once looked like an oversized garage is now completely refinished. The walls are painted a pale pink, there’s rubber matting on the floor, similar to the black ones in the gym, but these are light grey, less obtrusive. Pictures hang on the walls, most of women in gym clothes exercising and kickboxing. To my right, there’s a wall lined with exercise equipment, all sparkling chrome, shiny and new. Large mirrors cover the walls behind the equipment and movement in its reflection catches my eye and startles me for a second. I turn to my left following the reflection and find Nico standing in the doorway of a room, a room that wasn’t even there the last time I was in here to grab some supplies.
“Confused?” Nico grins at me, he looks pleased to find that I am.
“When did you do all this? And why didn’t you mention you were getting work done?”
“Because I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“It’s beautiful.” I look around, taking in the entirety of the transformation. It really is pretty. Different from the muscle head gym that stands on the other side of the door. It looks soft and inviting, not hard and intimidating. “But it looks so…different from the rest of the gym?”