by Amity Cross
Truthfully, getting out of that place had been a long time coming, and the second I’d walked through the doors and out into the cool Melbourne nighttime air…the relief was instantaneous. It was like I’d been carrying around a pile of rocks on my shoulders, and the moment I’d stepped across the threshold, they’d crumbled into dust.
Hamish didn’t want me. He couldn’t even look at me, so the odds that he’d even realize I was no longer an employee at The Underground would be slim to none.
I loved Hamish, but I’d also lost the chance to get to know his mother. The time I spent talking with her was etched into my mind with laser beams.
I glanced up as Bel shuffled into the lounge room. I was curled up on the couch in my pajamas, looking up how to write a resume on Google. The last time I’d written one of these was like five years ago. When I got the job at The Underground, they didn’t give a shit about past work experience or state legislation that said I was qualified to serve alcohol. I had boobs, knew how to pour a beer, and was desperate enough to take a job in a place where men and women beat each other up for money…illegally.
“What’s up?” Bel asked, sitting on the couch next to me.
“I’m looking up how to write a resume,” I replied, scrolling through the search results.
She straightened up, her hand grasping my wrist. “Wait. What?” Her fingernails dug into my skin. “Don’t tell me you quit working at that hole?”
I nodded. “Yep. I now realize it was long overdue.”
“So you and Hamish… You’re really over for good?”
I grimaced as a fresh stab of pain jabbed into my heart. “You got that, huh?”
“You were happier than I’ve seen in forever for about a week. Then it was like you were back in the post-Storm days.” She shrugged, looking sheepish. “If I wasn’t so wrapped up in work lately, I would’ve said something. I’m sorry.”
I’d never really seen Bel as a best friend before. A housemate, yeah, but more than that? She’d always been around, but we’d never crossed streams. Her life was one hundred percent different to mine, and we never hung out outside of the house. She was just…there.
“It’s fine,” I said. “It was all my fault, so I’ve only got myself to blame.”
“What’s that meant to mean?”
“His mum is sick,” I explained. “Cancer. He never told me about her, and I went to see her behind his back. I assumed he’d be there and I’d confront him about it, but he wasn’t… Then he walked in on me talking to her.”
“Oh hell.”
“Yep. Pretty much. She doesn’t just have cancer, Bel. She has early onset Alzheimer’s, and Hamish is the only person there to take care of her. I don’t think he ever told anybody. Not his friends, not me, not his ex. Nobody.”
“Are you serious?” Her mouth dropped open. “He was keeping all that to himself? Either he has some giant balls or he’s a proud pig who thinks he doesn’t need any help.”
“That’s the thing. I wanted to help him. I wanted to be there…” I swallowed a sob that had worked its way up my throat. “He didn’t trust me. He didn’t want me there. He bit my head off and kicked me to the curb. Dumped me on the spot. Ever since, it’s like I don’t exist to him. He just…he stares right through me.”
Bel nudged me. “Then is it all worth it? Being cut up over how he dumped you? If he didn’t care enough to trust you when you laid it all out, then maybe it’s a good thing you’re not together anymore.”
I snorted, turning my attention back to the laptop. “It doesn’t matter. What does is that I need a new fucking job.”
Actually, it mattered a great deal, but I wasn’t going to keep hashing it out to Bel. All she’d say was that I was better off without a guy who treated me like I was a sex toy. I knew it hadn’t been like that, not with Hamish.
I’d done more than step into a place where I didn’t belong. I crossed a line into something private and deeper than a mere betrayal. We were talking about his terminally ill mother. Hamish was well within his rights to treat me like he had.
“I was so fucking stupid,” I said, my eyes misting.
Bel frowned but didn’t say anything. Instead, she gestured for the laptop. “Gimme. Looks like I’ve got to lend you some of my expertise.”
Taking the laptop from my lap, she began closing out of the screens I had open. Her fingers kept bashing on the wrong keys, and she cursed under her breath. “This stupid bandage gives me the shits,” she said, holding her fingers up. “Remind me never to try to cook again. I like having tendons. Remind me about the tendons and the surgery and all the things, okay?”
“Things didn’t go well with the chef?”
She waved her fingers in my face. “What do you think?”
“Point taken.”
I watched as Bel clicked open the word processor and began setting up a resume. She plugged in my name and address, and then I leaned over to put in my mobile phone number.
“Now work experience,” she said. “Hit me.”
I rattled off the jobs I’d had since leaving high school. That crappy position flipping burgers at a fast-food restaurant, and then once I’d gotten my responsible service of alcohol certificate, the various bars I’d worked at. When we got to The Underground years, I hesitated.
“I can’t exactly put that I’ve been working the bar at an illegal cage fight for the past three years,” I said. “That’s a huge gap to fill.”
Bel winked and wiggle her eyebrows. “That’s where I come in.”
“Should I be worried?”
She waved me off and resumed typing. “Leave it to me. I’ve got your ass.”
I watched as she filled in my work experience, using buzz words like prioritize, effective communication, and leadership.
“Effective communication?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“It’s corporate jargon for being able to deal with assholes,” she explained. “I assume a place like The Underground has its fair share.”
More than, actually. I supposed she was right about that part. It took a woman with big balls to deal with the chauvinistic culture in a place like that.
“What happens when they want to check references?” I asked. “Assuming I can actually get an interview.”
“I’ll give them my number,” she said. “Now when people call to check up on you, they’ll be calling me.” She ended the reference section with a flourish, thumping her bandaged fingers on the keyboard. “I’m a damn fine actor. Just ask any of the guys I’ve been out with in the past five years.”
I pretended to throw up. “Pass.”
“Now here are a couple of good websites to check for job listings, but I think you should print out a hundred of these suckers and go to all the bars you can find. They can have high staff turnovers, so you might have better luck that way. It’d be faster too.” She looked me up and down. “With your style, there are a ton of little holes-in-the-wall in Fitzroy you can try. If you want to go further, there’s always St. Kilda, but it’s a pain in the ass to get there from our place. Parking is shit and so is public transport.”
She had a point. “I’ll try Fitzroy first.”
“I think you’ll be good with this. If you need help with a covering letter, just let me know.”
“Thanks, Bel,” I said. “I really need all the help I can get.”
It wasn’t just help with a resume, it was help moving on with my life. I couldn’t wallow forever, I just had to admit my mistakes and let Hamish care for his mother in peace. I didn’t know how much time they had left together but it mustn’t be long. She’d been bright but tired, her skin gray like… I couldn’t even say it.
The only thing I could do, that I thought was right, was to leave him be. It wasn’t about me and the feelings I had for him. It was about his mother, and I wasn’t a part of it, no matter how much I wanted to be there for them both.
Shit, one little conversation with Mrs. McBride and I’d fallen for her, too. She was so ni
ce…
“I’m glad you got out of that place,” Bel said, pulling me back to the present.
I smiled, but even I knew it didn’t reach my eyes or my heart. “Yeah. Same.”
“Just think. You can do anything you want now. Anything.”
It was a romantic notion, but in the wake of Hamish McBride and the future I saw with him, nothing seemed worthwhile.
“Yeah,” I murmured. “Sounds good.”
27
Hamish
I was just going through the motions.
After Ash beat me up at Pulse, I’d sobered up some, enough to get my ass into Dr. Schwartz’s and get poked and prodded with a bazillion needles. He’d told me he’d do what he could to get the results rushed back, but I wasn’t in any state of mind to care about myself. Ma was declining rapidly.
Every time I went to see her, she looked sicker, and it broke my heart. I just couldn’t do anything for her but be there. It didn’t feel like enough. It’d never be enough.
I’d stopped fighting at The Underground and practically slept at the hospital. When Ma wasn’t sleeping herself, she seemed to be locked away in some past memory, a wistful smile on her pale lips. At least she was happy in her own mind.
I was alone in the gym in my apartment building in the city, when my phone started to ring. I was midway through a ten-kilometer run with headphones jammed in my ears listening to loud rock music when the song cut and was replaced with the default tone on my iPhone. I was one of those guys who never customized their phone with all that fancy crap. As long as it rang when it was supposed to…
Turning down the treadmill until I was at a walking pace, I answered on the hands-free that was hooked on my earphones. “Hello?”
“Hello, Hamish? It’s Dr. Schwartz.”
I hesitated at the sound of his voice. I’d talked to the guy a lot over the years, and I’d come to know the tells in his speech. Something was off.
“Did you get the results back?” I asked, wondering if I’d have to go in and talk about treatment plans for myself this time.
“Hamish, I’m afraid I have some bad news.” My stomach began to churn, and I turned the treadmill off completely. “Your mother has passed away.”
“What?” The world fell out of focus, and I almost dropped the phone and picked up my towel to hurl in it. There was no way I was getting close to a sink before I blew.
“She passed in her sleep about an hour ago,” he explained. “She wouldn’t have felt a thing. I’m sorry, Hamish.”
He was sorry? I wasn’t there… Why wasn’t I there?
“I also have your test results,” he went on. Right then, I didn’t give a fuck what they said, but I was getting the answer whether I wanted it or not. “You’re in the clear.”
His words echoed around in my brain, and it was a moment before I realized what he was saying. I wasn’t going to die. Not from the cancer Ma’d had.
I felt relieved, and I hated myself for it.
I wasn’t there when she died. I wasn’t going to die.
I hung up the call without saying anything and stood on the treadmill, staring at my reflection in the mirror before me. Sweat dripped down my back in a slow trickle as the music I’d been listening to started back up again. Some angry as fuck rock song.
Tightening my grip around my phone, I ripped out the headphones and began to take shallow breaths, my chest compressing. Everything just collapsed inside of me, and the volcano blew itself apart.
With an anguished roar, I hurled the phone at the mirror, and it collided with a bang, the glass cracking but not shattering completely. The screen of my phone did, though.
She was gone, and I was alone.
The last place I should’ve gone that night was The Underground.
I didn’t want to go to the hospital to pay my respects. I’d been doing that every day for the past three months. I’d said enough goodbyes to last a lifetime. The last one I’d ever say to Ma would be at her funeral on Saturday.
I walked through the crowd in a daze, ignoring anyone who came near. Voices echoed around me, some calling my name, others asking if I was okay, and it took every ounce of strength just to put one foot in front of the other.
I found myself at the bar, standing in the same spot where I’d first laid eyes on Lori.
I’d ordered whiskey to drown my sorrows after Josie had dumped me, and it’d tasted like shit. The only thing I remembered clearly about that night was the punk chick behind the bar who didn’t give a crap who I was. The punk chick who wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met before. The punk chick who went to see my mother behind my back.
Lori, who I should never have let go.
So, Ma, I thought to myself. You’re getting your last wish after all. I’m about to grovel on my hands and knees in the piss and filth.
A woman stood in front of me, and I recognized her as Lori’s friend Sandra. She was pretty and all, but she had nothing on the woman I’d come here for. Not one iota.
“Where’s Lori?” I asked, practically shouting over the music.
Sandra raised her eyebrows and snorted. “She’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Gone.”
She glared at me, her expression full of unmasked dislike.
Turning, I stared at the crowd around me like I was a ghost. I was here, but I was so far away.
Ma was gone. Lori was gone.
The two women I cared about most in the world had left me. One by nature and one by my own hand.
I just… After so long dealing with it all on my own, I just didn’t have any fight left in me. Turning, I strode away from the bar and carved a path through The Underground and went home.
Ma would be telling me how stupid I was right about now. I could feel the burn of her disapproval, but I just couldn’t deal with it. I didn’t have any strength left to fight for Lori, so I tapped.
I was out.
28
Lori
Knocking at the front door broke me out of my stupor.
I’d been staring at the television, watching some bland breakfast TV show, trying to get myself into the right mindset for the job interview I had lined up later that morning. So far, I was failing miserably.
At least a week had passed since I’d quit my job at The Underground, and it’d been full steam ahead at maximum speed. I’d applied for every position I could find online, I’d pounded the pavement, signed up at recruitment agencies, and was doing whatever it took to get over the speed bump of unemployment.
An added side effect was it’d kept my mind off my aching heart and off all thoughts of Hamish McBride. Which was a difficult task since the guy had buried himself right in there. Somehow, I knew he’d always be a part of me, no matter how much I removed myself from what I’d done. That was the bit that killed me the most. Loving from afar and trying to forget feelings that were doing their darnedest to be felt.
Shuffling up the hall as the knocking started again, I wondered who was being so persistent. A tiny image of Hamish popped into my mind, but I shook my head. Miracles only ever happened at Christmas, and even then, they were only reserved for the movies.
I opened the front door, and instantly, my hackles rose. Storm stood on the front porch, his hands jammed into his pockets, and the first thing I thought of doing was to slam the door in his face. I gave it an almighty push, but his foot jammed between the wood, stopping it from closing.
“Lori,” he said through the crack. “I just want to talk.”
“Fuck off,” I hissed.
“Please,” he cried. “I just want to talk. That’s it. No funny business.”
Eyeing him with suspicion, I eased up the pressure on the door. “You can’t come in the house.”
He held up his hands. “Then we’ll hang on the porch. Or talk like this. Whatever you want.”
Mulling it over for a few seconds, I nodded. “On the porch. Hands where I can see them.”
Storm’s expression softened as he stepped
back from the door, holding his hands up. Easing outside, I sidled down the porch and sat on the bench underneath Bel’s bedroom window. Thank God, she was at work. Otherwise, she would’ve already kicked him in the balls and given him his marching orders.
“I came here to explain a few things,” he began, sitting beside me. “About that night, about the UFC, and about everything since I came back.” He sighed and bowed his head. “I owe you a huge apology.”
I raised my eyebrows. That was the last thing I’d ever expected to hear come out of that man’s mouth.
I didn’t want an explanation about his infidelity. It was so long ago, but everything since his return was the thing that bothered me the most. The way he was kicked out of the UFC, his behavior when he returned to The Underground… I knew I had to ask him so I could finally close that chapter of my life.
“What really happened with that girl?”
He sighed and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “It was a fabrication.”
I snorted.
“I’m not shitting you, Lori,” he said. “I know I can be a dick, but I’d never raise my hand to a woman.”
“Then why did they think it was you?”
“In cases like that, they always side with the woman, and someone in my position… I had money, and she saw an opportunity. I wasn’t the first guy she’d tried it on with, but I was the first idiot in the UFC.”
I didn’t understand. “So you’re saying she tricked the courts into ordering you to pay her a settlement?”
“She was a con artist if you ask me,” he said. “The UFC couldn’t do shit. My lawyer couldn’t do shit. The evidence was stacked against me, so I had no other choice but to take the fall. She was a pro.” He sighed and stared out across the street. “So that’s the story.”
“Wow,” I said, leaning back against the house.
“I’ll fucking say. The only place I had left to go was The Underground. I was a dick because I didn’t want anyone to find out the real reason I was back. I thought I could leave that part of me behind and pick up where I left off. Fuck, was I wrong.”
