Repentance: The Story of Kace Haywood
Page 22
“Who’s Vinny?” Goldie chirped.
“Don’t worry about it, both of you,” I responded and then took off to the Haze Room.
The lights were off, and the room was silent, almost eerie looking after the day we’d had yesterday. Outside of the room, kids bustled around me, their mothers chasing after them, throwing out warnings that were sure to be forgotten.
The smell of leather and wood hit me first. My senses were knocked to the ground, memories clouding my mind, vivid images of my boxing days flashing in an instant. That smell would always break me. It would always send a pang of regret, of what could have happened if I hadn’t put all my trust in another human.
“Why did you see Vinny?” Jett asked, shutting the door behind him. I turned around to see that he was sans his little minion and let out a long breath as I walked toward the bleachers, feeling every little ache and pain.
“Needed to get lost. Seeing Madeline yesterday was too much.”
“Did you make an agreement to stay away from your face?”
“Couldn’t entirely scare the new members of Justice, now could I?” I joked, but Jett didn’t find it the least bit funny.
“You still look like shit.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” I responded, sitting and sucking in wind when my side tightened around my ribs.
Jett sat next to me, resting his arms on his legs with his head bent as he spoke. “When are you going to stop beating yourself up?”
“Christ, Jett. Give it the fuck up. Just let me do my own thing. I promised I would be different around you guys, but what I do on my own time should stay my business.”
“You’re killing yourself,” Jett’s voice caught in his throat as his hands ran through his hair. “I can’t fucking lose you.”
Silence filled the room as Jett’s confession sunk in. He was the reason I was still on this earth, the reason I kept moving forward, but how much longer could I really go on? I felt my days were numbered.
“You need to let me go,” I admitted. “Life has become too much. My time is just around the corner. My fucking grave is calling out to me.” I dipped my head as my throat choked up and my eyes burned with tears.
“I can’t,” Jett whispered. “It’s selfish of me, but I can’t let you go, Kace.”
“Don’t you see I’m a shell of the man I used to be? Fuck, look at me, Jett.” He did as I said as a lonesome tear fell down my cheek. “Why would you want a sorry excuse for a man like myself to hang around? You’re hanging on to the past, to who I used to be.”
“You’re hanging on to the past.” Jett got up and stood in front of me. “If taking your life is what you want to do instead of fighting back, then do whatever the fuck you want. I understand what happened was a mistake, I know that your boxing career was stolen from you, and I know you’ve been seeking justice, but at some point you have to let it all fucking go. There is a beautiful girl waiting for you, wishing to be a part of your life. There are friends who want to see you happy. You’ve done your time. Live your life.”
I was about to respond when the door flew open and Madeline strode in with a towel over her shoulder and a water bottle in her hand.
“Hi, Mr. Kace,” she shouted, waving at me, not picking up on the awkward silence between Jett and myself. Quickly, I wiped my face and cleared any remnants of sadness.
“I got to go,” Jett said over his shoulder as Madeline stepped up in front of me.
“I’m ready for a workout, Mr. Kace,” she said while taking her water bottle and squirting it on her face and then wiping the water with the towel. She was outrageous.
“I can see that,” I replied, wiping my cheek one last time.
“You’re sad,” she stated, placing her hand on my knee, looking past my fake veneer.
I looked at Jett and he shrugged and took off, leaving me alone with Madeline.
“Where’s your mom?” I asked, ignoring her question.
“She dropped me off. She wasn’t having a good morning. She was sad like you.” Madeline draped the towel over her head and started swaying back and forth. The girl had too much energy. “She was sad last night too. I heard her crying.”
I shouldn’t have asked. I needed to distance myself, but morbid curiosity won out. “Why was your mom sad?”
Madeline started doing the boxer shuffle I’d taught her yesterday while holding her tiny fists up next to her face. “I don’t know. When I asked her, she said something about the past and how she was thinking about it.”
Bingo.
Fuck!
Of course Linda was upset. How could she not be? She was putting her daughter into boxing and self-defense classes so the past didn’t repeat itself, so she didn’t lose another person she loved to violence.
“Are we going to box?” Madeline asked, shaking me to my core.
“Yeah, uh, let’s wait for the rest of the group.”
“All right. Can I do some cartwheels?”
“Get at it, kid,” I responded while I headed over to the stereo to turn on some music. It was going to be a long day, especially with Madeline at my side.
Chapter Twenty Six
My past…
The melodrama between Jett and Goldie was really starting to get on my nerves. Jett was so fucking in love, but he had no clue how to handle his feelings. Instead of talking to Goldie like a normal boyfriend would, he tried to protect her from harm, but all that had led to was miscommunication and a frustrated Goldie.
The feud between Jett and his father had gotten out of hand to the point that I was afraid it was going to destroy my best friend and everything he’d ever worked for. That was why I found myself standing outside of Goldie’s room, about to break her door down with my knocking. I would do anything for Jett, and if that meant inserting myself in the middle of his relationship, then I would.
Without her permission, I blew through her door. The shocked look on Goldie’s face was priceless.
“What the hell?” she shouted.
“Are you seriously just waking up?” I asked, taking in her position on the bed.
“Are you seriously barging into my room again? For the love of God, get a hobby.”
Sassy fucking woman. “It’s noon and you’re not answering your phone,” I stated, pointing out why Jett had panicked and made me check on Goldie.
She was living in the Lafayette Club with Jett, diving head-first into their relationship until Leo, Rex’s father, threatened the safety of Goldie, making sure to point out he knew Goldie was Jett’s crutch. Jett had made it his mission to make it look like he’d cut all ties with her. That was why she was staying with Diego and helping him out with some of the paintings in his club. It was a temporary solution, but it was putting a strain on their relationship.
“It’s noon?” she asked. “God, that phone sex must have really taken it out of me.”
Even though Goldie was my best friend’s girl, I still couldn’t help the way she made me feel, like the dark life I was living had some ray of hope. She wanted to be friends, but I wanted to stay as far away as possible because hearing about her having phone sex with my best friend only tightened my heart and irritated me.
She scanned my body and saw the bandage wrapped around my arm. Thanks to Jett’s dad and his take-no-prisoners attitude, I was nursing a gun wound.
She stumbled out of bed, so off balance she flew forward, but I caught her before she face-planted into my sternum. Wincing from the pain, I steadied her.
“God, I’m sorry.” She straightened up. “Are you okay?” she asked while eyeing my bandage.
“Just a scratch,” I replied, not wanting to draw attention to me. “How come you’re not answering your phone?”
“Uh, just a scratch? A fucking bullet went through your skin.”
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” I ignored her, knowing I was pushing her buttons.
Frustrated, she threw her hands up in surrender and grabbed her cell.
She looked at i
t and pointed the screen at me. “It’s dead. I guess I didn’t plug it in last night.” She plugged it in quickly and then turned back toward me. “Why? Do you have a secret you have to tell me? Did you finally lose your virginity last night, and you want to talk about it?”
“Cute,” I said while blowing out a long breath. “Jett was just trying to—”
Before I could finish my sentence, a whirlwind of black hair and caramel skin stormed into the room, running directly into my back.
“Goldie, did you see—” The woman stopped in place when she slammed into me. She looked up at me as I turned around to see who had just barged in. Her bright green eyes widened at the sight of me. “Oh my God, who’s the Adonis?”
The woman standing in front of me was every man’s wet dream. Her body was toned from her long legs to her shapely ass to her mouthwatering breasts, which were on display in the form-fitting top she was wearing. Even though she was gorgeous, probably the most fucking gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, it wasn’t her exterior that was making my heart pound a mile a minute. It was the way she looked deep into my eyes. It was stupid to think something so deep about someone I had just glanced at, but in that moment, I knew the woman in front of me saw right into my soul. She looked past all my indiscretions and saw me for who I was. The realization hit me like a pile of bricks and a small smile twitched at the corner of my lips. I couldn’t help but smile. This whirlwind took my fucking breath away.
I knew she was feeling the same way about me by the way she looked into my eyes, the way she licked her lips and perused my body. I didn’t believe in love at first sight—I thought it was a notion for daydreamers and romantics—but I was at least believing in lust at first sight because I knew I wanted this woman. I needed her. She had a cure for the pain coursing through me. I could feel the pull. She was going to be dangerous to my well-being.
The heat in the room turned up dramatically as we looked at each other, not saying anything.
Goldie cleared my throat and said, “Uh, hello. You can eye-fuck each other later. Why are you both here?”
Ignoring Goldie, I introduced myself. “Kace,” I said while holding out my hand to her.
“Lyla,” she said back, placing her small hand in mine.
I held on to her hand as our connection grew deeper. Too bad the attention-grabbing Goldie was standing a few feet away.
“Oh, so you just give her your name as if it’s nothing, but I had to agree to be a part of your little gentleman’s club world before you introduced yourself to me?” It was true, she been allowed to know me until after she’d agreed upon coming onboard. It was just a form of torture that I took pleasure in, especially with a mouthy one like Goldie.
Keeping my eyes on Lyla, I answered, “It’s not my club.”
Growing more frustrated by the minute, Goldie broke the electric pull between Lyla and me by poking Lyla in the side. “Why the hell are you here?”
Slowly turning away from me, she held out a magazine to Goldie. “Just delivering the news.”
Fuck!
I quickly reached for the magazine, but Goldie’s little paws were quicker than mine, and she snatched the magazine from Lyla before I could.
“Give me that,” I said sternly.
“What are you going to do about it?” she asked as she jumped up on her bed, distancing herself from me.
Not wanting to play her games, I walked over to her, grabbed both her legs, and pulled them out from under her, making her fall ass first onto the mattress. I grabbed the magazine from her, rolled it up, and stuffed it in the back of my jeans.
“Hey, that’s mine!” she said while trying to regain her balance.
“Call Jett,” I said to Goldie, and then I eyed Lyla up and down and said, “Let her call Jett.”
“Give me your number, and I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Her gaze spoke future promises if I did.
“Say nothing, and I’ll think about giving it to you,” I teased, wondering who the fuck the man was who was living in my skin right now.
“Good enough for me,” Lyla responded as she followed me out of Goldie’s room.
“Traitor!” Goldie shouted as I shut her door.
Lyla walked in front of me as we descended the stairs. The minute we exited the back door, the thick Louisiana air hit me hard. Lyla stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, her hands in her back pockets, and spun around to face me. Her breasts were propped up from the position of her hands, making it impossible to look away.
“Do you have any plans?” Lyla asked, looking confident and sexy.
“No,” I responded, running my hand through my hair.
“Treat me to lunch?”
“That’s awfully presumptuous of you to think I would buy you lunch.”
She gave me the once-over, a smirk crossing her lips. “By the way you eye-fucked me upstairs, pretty sure you’ll be buying me lunch. Let’s go, beefcake. I’m hungry.”
Without me agreeing to her terms, she grabbed my hand and started walking me toward Jackson Square. I should have known Lyla would be trouble. She was friends with Goldie, and right now, it was looking like Lyla was more of a sassy counterpart than Goldie.
If that was the case, I was in for a world of trouble.
***
I sat back in my chair at the café and studied Lyla as she placed some sugar in her tea. She stirred the straw in her cup and her eyes shone bright. She leaned forward, her legs crossed under the table, her toe dancing intimately with my knee, letting me know she was close enough that if I wanted to make a scene, I could grab her from across the table and pull her onto my lap.
“Tell me, Kace, what’s your story.”
“Not much of a story to tell,” I responded vaguely. I didn’t know this woman. Therefore I wasn’t about to tell her about my life, especially given my horrid past.
“Enlighten me,” she smiled.
“Tell me about your life first,” I countered.
Her smile turned into a knowing smirk. “All right. No questions about the past.”
From her brush-off, I could tell she was hiding something as well, but I wasn’t about to pressure her to tell me because I’d just gotten a free pass. I wasn’t about to have it taken away.
“Fine with me,” I responded as we came to a standoff.
Our waitress brought over our food, replenished our drinks, and then took off. Lyla got a shrimp po’boy, same as me. I was impressed with her candidness about eating in front of a guy, ordering a sandwich just as big as mine. Most women I ate with were dainty with their meals, but not Lyla. I surveyed her as she picked up the loaded sandwich and took a giant bite out of it.You would think I’d have gotten sick of the food in New Orleans, but that wasn’t the case. I couldn’t get enough of the traditional cuisine. When I was in a good mood to appreciate things, I knew when I was fortunate enough to experience some good cooking.
“All right, so no past questions. Then tell me, what do you like to do on a typical Saturday?”
I took another bite of my sandwich and then wiped my mouth with a paper napkin that shredded under my sauce-coated fingers. “Well, when I’m not trying to wrangle up your friend at the club, or preparing for a presentation in the Toulouse Room, I like to spend time in the gym.” It was an honest answer. Wasting away my life in my room didn’t seem like something she would have liked to hear, and for some reason, I felt like trying to impress this woman.
“Workout? Seriously? You don’t have to tell me you work out. I can tell.”
“Ah, so you’ve been checking me out.” I smirked at her.
“It’s hard not to when I have fear that one of your muscles will poke me in the eye while we’re eating.”
“You would only be so lucky if my muscle poked you in the eye.”
Lyla eyed me and said, “Are you referring to your penis?”
I almost choked on my sandwich from her brazenness and grabbed my water to help the spurt of coughing that attacked me. I should have expected her to say someth
ing so crass. She did hang out with Goldie.
“You always this forward?”
“Yeah. Do you have a problem with it?” she asked as she took a giant bite of her sandwich.
“Nope, just want to know what to expect.”
She shook her head at me and leaned over to pat my arm. “Sorry to say, Kace, but you’re never going to be fully prepared when hanging out with me. I’m a loose cannon.”
“Fair enough,” I said, leaning back in my chair.
She continued to eat her sandwich in silence, devouring it quicker than me. She licked her fingers, showing me exactly what she could do with those gorgeous lips. I wondered what it would feel like to own those lips, to have them on my body, to feel them against mine.
I adjusted in my seat as my thoughts turned dirty.
“You have that glazed-over look. What are you thinking about?” she asked, tossing her napkin on her plate.
“What your lips would feel like on my body,” I answered honestly.
Her eyebrow rose. “And you think I’m forward?”
“Just evening the playing field, babe.”
“Fair enough. Tell me, do you believe in ghosts?”
I could tell her question wasn’t complicated, but for me, it was a loaded answer. I did believe in ghosts because right now, I felt like a walking ghost in the streets of New Orleans.“I do,” I said, keeping it short and simple. “Do you?”
“I think there is this whole other world we don’t know about, that we won’t know about until we breathe our last breath. A place where we can make up for what we’ve done in life, a place where everyone gets along and where your biggest concern is who are we going to spook that night.”
“Who would you spook?” I asked, wondering who she would want to freak out in the mortal world.
“Isn’t it obvious? I would haunt the fuck out of Goldie. She is an easy target. It would be too much fun to freak her out.”
I laughed, a foreign noise to me, but the image of Goldie freaking out from Lyla’s ghost was too comical. Goldie would be an easy target, hands down.