Blame It on the Pain Read online

  The first thing she did when she saw me was pull me into her arms. She said that we would figure out a way to get through this.

  I believed her.

  But in the middle of the night...everything changed.

  I woke up to the most heart-wrenching scream I had ever heard come out of my mother's mouth. I rushed out of my childhood bed, grabbed a bat from my closet, and ran into the basement where I heard the scream come from.

  I ran down the stairs two at a time and came face to face with a sight that sickened me and made my stomach curdle.

  There was John...facing a computer screen.

  His pants were down around his ankles, and his erect penis was in his hand.

  And he was watching the sex tape.

  Before I even had time to process everything that was happening...my mother stalked toward me.

  John quickly pulled up his pants...and tried to explain himself...but the war raging inside my mother wasn't with him.

  It was with me.

  She raised her hand and white spots formed in front of my eyes when she struck me, hard.

  My face stung so bad I had to close my eyes. “You worthless slut! You stupid whore!” she screamed before she dealt another blow to my face.

  This one was so bad, blood dripped down my nose.

  I tried to protest, tried to stick up for myself...but she wouldn't have it.

  “I never want to see you again,” she sneered before she ran upstairs.

  I turned to go upstairs to collect my things and return to my dorm at NYU, but not before I noticed the sly smile touching the corners of John's lips.

  It was a smile that told me that even though he was now in jeopardy of losing the election...he had won the battle when it came to my mother.

  She choose him over me.

  He found a way to make her hate me.

  “I hope you die,” I whispered before I continued upstairs, gathered my things, and walked out of my parent’s house.

  Two months later, John lost the race for mayor...and I was about to be kicked out of school because I couldn't afford to stay- in part, because I stopped attending class and lost my scholarship.

  Soon after, I received an e-mail from my mother. She said that her and John were moving away to some small town in the south. She also said that I would be able to keep my father's house...provided that I promise to never speak to her or John again.

  I happily agreed.

  ***

  With a sigh, I open the door to the house, plop down on the sofa and open my laptop.

  My head begins throbbing when I pull up the latest search results. Even though the video is a few years old, there are about 20 uploads on various sites in the last three weeks alone.

  I quickly press the pause button on one of the video's and immediately scroll down to the comments section of the well-known website.

  I scan over the slew of comments containing things like- 'she's hot, I'd do her', 'nice tit's', 'girl sure knows how to suck dick', and 'whoever the guy is, he sure is lucky.'

  Instead, I focus my attention on the more personal comments.

  -Poor John Travine. Too bad his daughter was so much of a slut it ended up ruining his career. If I was her, I'd never show my face in public again.

  -I went to school with that girl. Her name is Alyssa Tanner. Always knew she was a whore. I even heard she blew half the football team.

  -Bet her snatch is the equivalent of throwing a hot dog down a hallway. If you know what I mean ;)

  -Wow, seriously? Could she be any more of a slut!

  It's like being trapped on a hamster wheel in the seventh circle of hell. I know I shouldn't, but I just can't help myself.

  Finally, I look at the last comment that was posted, this one a mere few hours ago.

  -The whore should just do everyone a favor and kill herself.

  Little do they know...I'm already dying inside a little bit every day.

  Chapter 7 (Jackson)

  “You should get rejected more often. It really makes you train better,” Tyrone says while I slam my fist into the punching bag again.

  It's been a little over three weeks since I've last seen or talked to Alyssa, and true to form, I've been taking my frustration out during training.

  Ricardo's lips twitch as he holds the punching bag. “That's enough for today, guys. Hit the showers.”

  I'm about to leave, but I notice movement out of the corner of my eye.

  It's that snake, Luke waltzing through the gym; appearing to be without a care in the world.

  I'm about to change that real quick.

  I hip check him into the wall and enjoy the look of utter shock splashed across his face.

  “Can I help you?” he sputters.

  My 6'3 frame easily towers over him and I relish the way his entire body begins to shake from fear.

  I don't give into my anger very often. I tend to bottle everything up and save it for the fights in the cage, but when I do let my fury escape, it sure as fuck makes one hell of an impact. “I believe you still owe money to a certain ring girl,” I snarl.

  He puffs up his chest. “What are you? Her keeper or something? I don't owe that girl shit. Not my fault she couldn't handle the job.”

  I launch my fist into his rib cage. “Last time I checked, asshole. Being groped against your will wasn't part of the job description. You're supposed to make sure shit like that doesn't happen to the ring girls.”

  He lets out a big whoosh of air before he collapses against the wall.

  I ball my fist again, but he finally reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash wrapped around a rubber band. “Fine, here. This should cover it. But mark my words, Jackson. If you make a habit of attacking me over the girls I hire, instead of focusing on the fights like you're supposed to- Bruno will be hearing about it.”

  I grab him by the collar. “I really don't give a fuck,” I sneer before I let him go.

  He fixes his collar and glares at me. “Yeah, we'll see about that,” he says before he limps away.

  When I turn around Ricardo's eyes are narrowed into tiny slits and Tyrone is shaking his head profusely.

  “Locker room, now,” Ricardo barks.

  Shit.

  The thing about Ricardo is, he's a great coach- and I'm close enough with him to consider him a friend of sorts...but you never want to piss him off.

  He's only 5 years older than Tyrone and I, but rumor has it that he has strong ties to Bruno...hence why it's not only his job to train us, but to look after two of his biggest money making fighters.

  It's Ricardo's priority to make sure we stay in top physical form as well as stay out of trouble...in every kind of form it comes in.

  The fact that I just went off on one of Bruno's men...doesn't bode well for me.

  “What the fuck was that?” he snaps when we reach the locker room.

  I decide, to tell him the truth. “He let Alyssa get attacked during the fight and didn't try to stop it...and if that wasn't bad enough he then fired her for causing trouble. He also didn't pay her.”

  He rubs his chin, appearing to be lost in thought for a moment. “Alyssa. That's the girl in handcuffs you brought home? Correct?”

  I nod. “Look, Jackson. Do yourself a favor and bark up another tree. The only thing that girl's going to do is get you in a shitload of trouble. Trust me. You'll be getting into fights out of the ring left and right the longer you hang around her. If Bruno questions me about you going after Luke, I'll defend you and tell him you were just trying to do the right thing.” He pauses. “But you and I both know it's never a good thing to be on Bruno's radar. Don't make a habit out of it.”

  “Yeah,” I agree before he leaves.

  After I step out of the shower I find Tyrone standing there waiting for me. “In the last 3 years I've known you; I've never seen you strung out over a girl. What is it about her, man?”

  I shrug as I continue getting dressed. “I don't know. She's been dealt a really shitty h
and, though. She's not at all what you think, Ty.”

  “So, she's a lost soul, huh?”

  “Something like that,” I mumble.

  He rubs a hand over his face. “Saving her won't bring back Lilly, Jackson,” he says before he heads for the showers.

  I instinctively put my hand on the tattoo over my heart.

  “I know,” I whisper.

  ***

  “I'm tired as fuck,” Tyrone says after we leave the gym. “Training really did a number on me today. I'm gonna grab some coffee.”

  I look at him and smirk as we continue walking down the street. “Yeah, if that's what you like to call those pumpkin spice froo-froo girly drinks you dig so much.”

  He turns his head from side to side and grins. “Hey, man. Don't knock it til' you try it.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh when we approach the Starbucks at the end of the block.

  Until I see her.

  Looking through the large glass window of the coffee shop, I can't help but notice Alyssa.

  She's leaning over the table, her cleavage spilling out of her low-cut top, and flashing a seductive 'come hither' smile to some guy wearing khakis whose typing on a laptop.

  How he's still typing with her right in front of him looking like that is anyone's guess, but that's beside the point.

  I know exactly what she's doing...and it makes me sick.

  Sick and pissed.

  Tyrone follows my gaze and shakes his head. “Awe, hell. And so it begins,” he mutters.

  Without taking my eyes off of her, I open the door and walk inside.

  Chapter 8 (Alyssa)

  I'm at Starbucks, flirting up a storm with my next conquest...when a large figure approaches the table and clears their throat.

  I glance up and internally wince when I notice Jackson standing there...his eyes never leaving my face. His expression hard and unyielding.

  Before I can even say a word, he crosses his arms over his broad chest. “There you are, babe. I was wondering where you wandered off to,” his deep voice growls.

  Babe? Has he lost his damn mind?

  I open my mouth to tell him off, but the guy next to me bolts up from the table like he's been electrocuted. “Crap, man. Sorry. I don't want any trouble,” he sputters before he grabs his laptop and literally runs out the door.

  I stand up and head for the door, but not before I feel his hand reach for my elbow and pull me back to him. I try not to let his close proximity or his touch effect me, but I fail miserably. My stomach knots up and my mouth goes dry when I get the faintest whiff of his earthy, damn near mouth watering scent.

  “Have you learned nothing from the last time you did this shit, damsel?” he asks, momentarily zapping me out of my haze.

  I shoot him a look that hopefully conveys how annoyed I am with him using that term and twist out of his grasp.

  I run out the door, with his footsteps following close behind me.

  I know he's not going to let up, so there's only one thing left to do. Something I've become really good at. I'm going to push him away, for good.

  I spin around and face him. “Christ, stop following me, Jackson. Stop showing up when you're not wanted or needed. And stop acting like you actually give a damn. And most of all, stop trying to save me because I'll only end up taking you down with me.” I draw in a ragged breath. “Just leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.”

  I know my words aren't kind, but I need him out of my life for once and for all.

  It's only then that I notice his friend Tyrone is standing there. He narrows his eyes at me before he looks at the ground.

  Jackson's nostrils flair and he takes a step toward me. He reaches for my hand and puts something in it. “Take care of yourself, Damsel,” he says dismissively before he turns around and begins walking down the street.

  I close my eyes and swallow against the lump forming in my throat.

  This is what I wanted. So, why does it feel like I just made a huge mistake?

  My eyes are glassy when I finally open them and come face to face with Tyrone.

  “Wow, you're kind of a bitch,” he says.

  I shrug because it's not a lie...especially after that encounter. “Yeah well, it had to be done.”

  I turn to leave but his voice stops me. “Word of advice...the world becomes a dark and cold place after you push everyone who cares about you away. And it really sucks when you have to face your demons all alone.”

  “I wasn't lying, Tyrone. I'll only end up hurting him in the end. Everything I touch, I wreck somehow.”

  He laughs. “Have you seen him? Trust me, the man can take a few hits, Alyssa. And believe me when I say that Jackson is a great friend. Just give him a chance to be yours.”

  “Why is this so important to you? I mean, not for nothing but you weren't exactly rooting for me the last time we saw one another.”

  He considers my statement for a moment before he answers, “Because he's the greatest guy I've ever met and he deserves to get what he wants...for once in his life.”

  I'm taken back by his statement, but before I have a chance to question him about it, Tyrone turns on his heels and starts walking down the street. My chest squeezes and everything in my body is telling me not to let Jackson walk away.

  Before I can stop myself, I call out, “Tell him to meet me for lunch tomorrow around 12. The same diner we went to last time.”

  Tyrone fist pumps the air and gives me a giant smile. “He'll be there.”

  I'm walking to my car when I suddenly remember what day tomorrow is.

  There's no way I can meet Jackson...I already have a date.

  Chapter 9 (Jackson)

  The last thing I should be doing right now is showing up to meet a girl who's made it clear that she wants nothing to do with me.

  I shouldn't be pursuing this. I shouldn't be hopeful that she'll finally let me in.

  I shouldn't be trying to save her from herself. Lord knows, I'm the furthest thing from a hero and there's a good chance I'll only hurt her in the end if she ever finds out the truth about me.

  No, I shouldn't be doing any of those things...but...I just can't stop myself.

  Another hour goes by and I glance at my watch. Tyrone told me she said 12. Maybe he got the time wrong and she meant 2?

  If she meant 2, I'll be cutting it close to training time, but the gyms not that far from here.

  I order another water and look out the window. There's no sign of her. I look at my watch again. 2:25pm. It's obvious that she's not coming and I've been stood up.

  With a sigh, I stand up and throw some money on the table before I leave.

  ***

  My muscles ache like no one's business after a grueling workout, all I want to do is go home and fall into bed.

  Tyrone's at the bar across from the gym, hoping to strike it lucky with his latest conquest. I considered joining him, but decided against it.

  I haven't exactly been in the greatest of moods today. I stick my key in the door and feel a hand tap my shoulder. The touch is light and the hand is soft.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling even more annoyed now that I have to deal with her. “Never gonna happen, Lou-Lou. Try Ricardo's door,” I growl.

  My statement comes out much harsher than I intended. I briefly consider apologizing but think better of it. Better to just let her think I'm a dick, maybe she'll finally get the picture.

  I hear the sound of a throat clearing and I spin around.

  A pair of red and puffy hazel eyes meet mine.

  “I'm sorry about not showing today, Jackson. I forgot I made other plans and I couldn't get out of them,” Alyssa's now raspy voice greets me.

  I force myself to ignore the current state she's in. I force myself to look right past the sadness in her eyes, and the fact that she's obviously upset.

  I force myself not to think about what those other plans she had may have entailed and the pang of jealousy that snags me.

  But mostl
y, I force myself not to care anymore, because every time I do; she only ends up pushing me away and making me feel like an asshole for wanting to be her friend.

  Her friend, right- my inner voice taunts.

  “You came a long way for something that could have been done over the phone.”

  “You know I don't have your number,” she whispers when I turn back around and open the door.

  “Yeah, well, who's fault is that,” I say before I shut the door behind me, with her on the other side of it.

  A small knock follows. I pull off my sweatshirt and ignore it.

  The knocks increase in both sound and speed. Going from cautious and unsure to impatient and angry now.

  And for some reason, that's what really sets me off.

  I swing the door open so hard the walls vibrate.

  She pushes past me with an angry scowl on her face, finally stopping in the living room.

  I inhale sharply and continue after her until she does something that entices me, confuses me, and unleashes a fury inside me.

  She takes off her shirt.

  She's about to start undoing her pants when I reach over and halt her. “What the hell are you doing, Alyssa?”

  She looks down and gives me a small shrug. “Well, I tried apologizing to you and you slammed the door in my face,” she says, her arms hanging loose in defeat.

  I raise an eyebrow, not understanding her thought process. “And you thought stripping for me would accomplish what exactly?”

  Her cheeks flush. “I'm not sure. I figured I'd just give you what every other guy always wants from me.” She looks down. “Go ahead, Jackson. Take me, use me. Be as rough as you want, just try not to destroy me when it's over.”

  I don't know what irks me more. The fact that she thinks she's nothing more than a pack of gum to be passed around and enjoyed by all, despite never actually enjoying it herself. Or the fact that she just grouped me with every other guy she deals with.

  I take a step closer to her and lift her chin. “You're too busy destroying yourself, Alyssa. How could anyone else?”

  I reach for her arms and lift them above her head. Her chest heaves and I can't help but take in the purple lace of her bra, barely covering her nipples, straining against her breasts and just begging to be released. She sucks in a breath and closes her eyes when my thumb brushes her cheekbone before dipping lower, skimming over that adorable dimple on her left cheek. Which seldom makes an appearance.