Fucking Preach. Push through, take back your life and move on, is what he said. Look where it got me. I’ve showed the first person that I thought understood me in a long time my true colors. I’m a monster. I don’t blame her for leaving me.
The bell sounds again from downstairs. I know it’s Preach, he’s the only one that refuses to god damn listen and leave me alone. So help me God, I may not be able to hold back from beating the shit out of the old guy this time. He’s tried my patience and it won’t take much to shell out the punishment he deserves. The bastard should be miserable too.
I 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 fuck!”
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?”
Trevor nods. “Your lady came to see me. Filled me in that you’re beating yourself up over our fight.” He stops and takes a deep breath. “And your fight with my brother.”
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.
Her husband was killed in a horrific accident, where the driver was under the influence and the passenger was severely injured. Unfortunately, her husband was the driver and she was the passenger. So many people tried to help me over the years, but it was Regina who I finally connected with. We were both racked with guilt and shame, spending all our energy trying to forget what happened in our lives. She helped me take baby steps forward when I thought I needed to run backwards.
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.