Blame It on the Pain Page 20

  The only thing that causes me to pause is when I hear her whisper, “I didn't have sex with him that night. I wouldn't do that to you.”

  But I still force myself to walk right out that door.

  Because I don't want to forgive her...I don't want to fall for her.

  But most of all?

  I don't want to have to lie to her about who I really am...again.

  Chapter 25 (Alyssa)

  Shane nudges my hip as he leans in and whispers, “I thought you said he didn't want to talk to you?”

  My eyes scan the bar before landing on Jackson. He's standing in the back playing a game of darts, by himself. Probably wishing it was my face that made up the board. I exhale sharply as I take in the way his gray henley shirt stretches across his broad chest and outlines the muscles of his arms. I force myself not to let my gaze drop to his faded blue jeans, which I have no doubt fit his ass and strong thighs perfectly.

  My eyes betray me anyway...and dammit, I was right. They totally do.

  “He doesn't.” I shrug. “He still hasn't said a word to me.”

  And it's not like it's because the bar is so crowded or anything. We have a few customers, but there are plenty of seats at the bar.

  Which he has yet to walk up to...because he still has yet to order a drink.

  Which can only mean one thing. He's here to see me.

  And he's been doing plenty of that because, over the last two hours, I've caught him stealing glances at me 32 different times now.

  Make that 33.

  Those gray eyes of his are burning into me yet again, heating my entire body with a single look.

  The corners of his lips twitch. And that's when I know. He totally caught me checking him out just a second ago.

  My mouth goes dry when his own eyes drop down, then slowly drag back up my body seductively, finally landing on my face. My brain fizzles. The 'this is your brain on drugs' warning, should also issue a 'this is your brain when Jackson Reid looks at you like that,' warning.

  “He's been here four nights in a row,” Shane says. “I don't understand why he won't speak to you. Want me to kick him out?”

  “Absolutely not,” I reply.

  Jackson might not be talking to me, but the fact that he's been here night after night watching me tells me something.

  He still has feelings for me. Feelings that some part of him can't ignore.

  Either that, or he wants to see if Ford will show up here. Maybe, see if I was telling him the truth the other day.

  I knew I hurt him...but even I wasn't aware of just how much I hurt him until his drunken outburst happened and our last conversation took place.

  I wish he would just let me explain everything...I know it won't be easy for him to hear, but for some reason, he won't let that happen.

  “You gonna be okay to close up by yourself?” Shane asks while casting a look in Jackson's direction.

  I glance at the clock, I didn't realize that it was time for last call already. “I'll be fine.”

  We announce last call and Shane and the last few stragglers leave.

  With the exception of Jackson...because I'm certainly not kicking him out. Plus, he'll have no choice but to speak to me if we're the only two people here.

  I walk to the door and proceed to lock up and put the alarm on.

  I'm wondering why Jackson doesn't leave when he sees me doing this, but he doesn't seem to care that I'm closing the bar. I turn off the lights above the bar but make sure to keep the one on in the back where he is.

  I walk over to him, my heart beating like a jackhammer the whole time.

  “I like your hair,” he murmurs in my direction.

  It's such a random statement, but I'll take it. I open my mouth to say thanks, but he gives me a hard look effectively silencing me.

  His jaw ticks and he goes back to playing his game of darts. “I hate that you used me that night,” he says before throwing a dart at the board.

  He hits a bullseye.

  “I'm sorry.”

  He pulls the dart out and takes a step back. “I hate that I watched the video.”

  He throws another dart, bullseye.

  “I know what Lou-Lou did, Jackson. I read your text's after I found my purse that night. I know you were disgusted with yourself for watching it and I know you're sorry.”

  I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “I've had a lot of time to think about it...and I never once asked or told you to not watch the video. You didn't do anything wrong.”

  He shakes his head. “No. I was wrong. I told you I wouldn't watch it and I did.”

  “I forgive you.”

  “You shouldn't,” he says gruffly.

  We stay silent after that. I decide, to sit on top of the pool table and watch him throw more darts, hoping he'll continue talking to me.

  “I hate that his hands were on you, touching your body. Touching what I thought was mine,” he finally says.

  He throws the dart so hard I think the board's going to come off the wall.

  “I didn't want his hands on me.”

  He snorts. “It didn't look like it from where I was standing. And it certainly didn't sound like you didn't want his hands on you when you told him you loved him.” I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off. “Don't,” he warns. “Because I swear to god, if I hear you say his name again...I'll fucking lose it, Alyssa.”

  I stay silent. I want to shout everything about my relationship with Ford at the top of my lungs, but I don't want him to walk away from me. Especially now that he's finally talking to me.

  I desperately want him to give me another chance...because this time around, it won't be tarnished by my past or lies. I feel like I can actually let myself fall in love with Jackson. I can love him the way he deserves to be loved.

  He throws another dart, and another, and another. Until he's firing them all at the board like a round of bullets. “I hate that I still want you. Especially when I should know better.”

  My heart drops with those words.

  Then he turns around and the look he gives me, makes the entire world stop. I hold my breath but he steals it from me when his lips land on mine.

  The kiss is saturated with need, longing and desire. His tongue probes every inch of my mouth, his teeth crash against mine, and his hands touch my body like it's his possession.

  My back hits the surface of the pool table and I moan when I feel Jackson move on top of me. I wrap my legs around his waist and grab onto his shoulders. “My apartment's upstairs,” I pant.

  Jackson doesn't waste another second, he picks me up and we make our way up the staircase.

  He slams me against the door to my apartment and his teeth nip at my neck while his hands dig into my ass. “Hope you have another t-shirt,” he growls.

  I'm about to ask why, but I soon find out when he shreds the material right down the middle and buries himself between my breasts.

  “I need these perfect fucking tits in my mouth,” he rasps as he yanks down the cups of my bra and pulls my nipple into his mouth. He lavishes it with his tongue, sucking on it like it's his favorite thing in the entire world.

  I whimper when he pauses. But then he moves on to my other breast and pays it the same attention. Bolts of pleasure jolt me when he reaches down and pops open the button on my pants.

  He’s sliding them down when he stops abruptly and bangs on the wall beside my head. “I can't.”

  “Can't what?” I ask, still in my delirious fog. He puts me down. “I can't do this to you.”

  I don't understand how one second he's tearing my clothes off and the next he's walking away. He quickly backs up. “I need to leave.”

  “Why? I thought...I thought that we were—” I pause because I realize that maybe I misconstrued the situation entirely and this wasn't what I hoped it was after all.

  “I thought we were trying again,” I say.

  He gives me the coldest look I've ever seen. “Well, you thought wrong. I'll stay out
of your life for good from now on. I promise.”

  What the hell is going on with him? None of this makes any sense.

  He heads for the exit stairs but I stop him. “No. I don't want you out of my life. I want you, Jackson. Talk to me, don't run away.”

  “Yeah, because you know all about that. Don't you?” he scoffs.

  I want to punch him for being so callous right now. With the exception of his drunken episode. He's never been this cruel to me without reason. “Yeah I do. So, take it from me when I tell you that it will only make things worse.”

  He begins walking down the stairs and I'm right behind him. “I know you. Something is—” I start to say before he cuts me off.

  “You don't know me, Alyssa. Trust me.”

  And with those words he walks away.

  Chapter 26 (Jackson)

  “You straight?” Ricardo asks.

  I look at myself in the mirror. “As a motherfucking arrow.”

  “Big fight tonight.”

  “It's always a big fight.”

  I know he's on edge because we just got word there was a last-minute change regarding my opponent...but unlike Ricardo, I'm not worried.

  Ricardo meets my stare. “The guy fights dirty and he's almost three times your size. He's not a boxer or an mma fighter. He's a pure street fighter, which means he's a wild card. I don't know how much fucked up shit you have stored in that reserve of yours, but as your coach...I need you to tap in and empty it.”

  His gaze shifts from one of concern to nervousness. “And as your friend, I'm telling you...I need you to give it everything you got. DeLuca's got a lot of money riding on this tonight.”

  “He always does.”

  “Not like this, Jackson,” he says before he walks away.

  I close my eyes and force myself not to think about Alyssa.

  I almost faltered, but I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

  It's been a week since I pushed her away on purpose.

  I was harsh, but I don't regret it one bit.

  I knew the best way to get her to stay away for good, was to make her believe that for a fraction of a second we had a chance...then dash all her hopes.

  My blood burns for her and I want her every second, of every day. But, you have to be cruel to be kind...and there's nothing kinder than saving her from who I really am.

  And of course, the devil himself, DeLuca.

  On second thought, maybe it's best that I use the fact that I can't have her as my fuel tonight...because there sure as hell is nothing and no one that I want more than her.

  I open my eyes, suck in a breath and give myself one last look in the mirror.

  Then I punch it, watch it shatter and walk out to the cage.

  I turn into the machine.

  Chapter 27 (Alyssa)

  “You putting money on any of the fighters tonight, little lady?”

  I look up at the big man and hand him my wages for the past week. “Five-hundred on Jackson Reid.”

  “You mean Jack the Ripper?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good pick, he doesn't lose. Go on in.”

  I smirk. “I know.”

  I gave Jackson a week. A week to come and find me, a week to make it right. A week to talk to me about whatever it is that's going on with him.

  His time is up.

  I didn't want to go back on my promise to him, but there was no other way I could track him down. He pulled a complete Houdini act, so I'm pulling one of my own. I know he won't be happy when he finds out I came here, but if I have to provoke him just so I can get some type of response from him, well, then so be it.

  I'm not giving up on him and I'm not letting him run away from me.

  He's seen all my demons...now it's time to see his.

  The large room is full and the crowd is already going crazy by the time I make my way in.

  I look up at the steel cage and fight back a shiver. It's monstrous, barbaric and to be honest, it intimidates me a little bit. There's something so unsettling about it. I can understand why Momma doesn't like watching the fights.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Tyrone in the crowd. I turn away and flip the hood on my jacket up.

  I have every intention of Jackson finding out I'm here, but not until after the fight. I already know that he looks to Tyrone before he starts and he'll spot me right away if I walk up to him.

  Besides, there's always the chance that Tyrone would kick me out because Jackson told him to.

  I study Tyrone's profile for a bit and I can immediately tell that something is wrong. He looks unsettled and he's biting his fingernails while looking up to the sky.

  I'm a little worried myself after seeing that now. I mean, what could be so different about this particular fight than any other fight?

  The crowd's cheering picks up and I focus my attention back on the cage. This time, I see Jackson walking out in his green trunks. I take a moment to admire his 8 pack abs, muscular arms, and the rest of his beautifully toned physique.

  I also notice his demeanor. He looks completely in the zone. His expression is controlled, his posture resembles that of a brick wall, and well, he looks a little frightening.

  Actually, make that a lot frightening. It reminds me of the time he fought Dean in the bathroom.

  I can barely even hear the announcer right now because all I hear is the crowd chanting, “Ripper! Ripper!” I'd say the crowd is about 90% male...so the female voices are much easier to pick up on.

  I grit my teeth when some woman yells, ”You're so hot. I want to have your babies.” Followed by another woman screaming, “I'll let you do anything you want to me. You can stick it anywhere!”

  On second thought, maybe it's best that I take a page out of Jackson's book and tune out the crowd.

  They finally announce Jackson's name and I can't help but let out a few cheers of my own. I know he won't be able to hear me over the frantic cheering that's going on right now.

  Like the flip of a switch, the general mood around the room shifts just then and I don't know what to make of it.

  But then I see someone else walk out on stage.

  My jaw drops and my stomach knots up.

  There's no way Jackson's about to fight this massive beast.

  He looks like some kind of a science experiment gone horrifically wrong. His muscles are way too big to be natural, his veins are bulging and his head looks too small for his massive body. This guy is a tank...he probably eats people my size for freaking breakfast.

  They announce his opponents stats and I'm sure I must be hearing things, but when I take another look...I know I'm not.

  How the hell is Jackson going to fight and win against a guy who's 6'7 and 388lbs?

  Jackson's 6'3 and 235lbs. This is a completely uneven match.

  I know this is an underground fight club and all...but this guy could fucking kill him.

  No wonder Tyrone looks so nervous.

  Ricardo taps Jackson on the shoulder and says something in his ear.

  Jackson then looks out to the crowd to find Tyrone. Tyrone doesn't give him his usual happy musings, instead, he taps the spot over his heart.

  Jackson's eyes flash as he pats the tattoo over his own heart where Lilly's name resides and I realize that Tyrone's gesture was much more significant than I thought.

  I watch as Lou-Lou walks up with her cue cards, wearing the green flashy costume that I myself once wore, and even she looks uncomfortable about what's about to go down.

  I don't even have the heart to mentally curse her out when she gives Jackson a small smile and a thumbs up sign before stepping down.

  The bell dings and Jackson's off to a good start.

  I figured he'd start swinging like a bat out of hell, just like in the bathroom...but he's sidestepping and dodging the beasts punches like a pro.

  No wonder he almost never gets hit. Despite his muscular build and the fact that he's in the middle of an underground cage fight, he looks so gra
ceful and poised. He's a natural up there, like his body was made to do this.

  He looks so comfortable in his habitat it's amazing to be able to watch him.

  Then the big brute he's up against grunts and lunges at Jackson out of nowhere. I'm not sure if Jackson even saw it because it happened so fast.

  I hold my breath when the guy punches him straight in the kidney.

  The crowd lets out a collective big gasp and even some 'Oh, shit's.'

  Jackson stands tall and I feel my entire body relax.

  Until the big ogre lunges at him again and his fist connects with Jackson's jaw.

  Jackson rebounds, though and gets him with a few quick jabs and a sharp kick. The guy stumbles and teeters, appearing seconds away from keeling over.

  I channel my inner Adrian and before I can stop myself, I shout, “That's right, baby. The bigger they are the harder they fall.”

  Some guy next to me apparently agrees with my statement and lets out an,“Oh, yeah! Let him have it, Ripper!”

  I'm smiling and laughing...until the beast lunges again and takes another swing at him. He connects with Jackson's face again and blood sprays.

  Jackson staggers back and the beast uses the opportunity to send a kick to his ribs.

  There are murmurings in the crowd then...things like, “He's never been hit more than twice in the cage, this makes four times in a row now.” And, “This is the longest a fight has ever lasted while he's in the cage.”

  I can't help but look at Tyrone. His palms are drawn together and he's silently whispering something to himself.

  Then I realize what he's doing. He's praying for him.

  My eyes become glassy and I issue a silent prayer of my own. I'm so worked up I have to take off my jacket and bounce on the balls of my feet to get rid of some of this anxiety.

  The guy's about to strike again...but Jackson dodges it and this time, he gives him a menacing smile.

  I start screaming along with the crowd when Jackson loses his damn mind and starts unleashing punches and kicks so quick, that if I blink I'm sure I'll miss a few.

  Everything is perfect...until the big beast rears his ugly head and deals a hard karate chop to Jackson's neck and headbutts him at the same time. The move is so savage and so ruthless the crowd becomes angry and starts calling for the match to be paused.