Chapter 22 – Tyler
I am a rock, I keep telling myself as I drive to the fight. My emotions are threatening to boil over and I can’t let that happen. I have a job to do—several of them, and I can’t be soft. I have to put Jenny out of my mind if I’m going to do what I’m about to do. And then, when this is done and all over, I’ll go back to her.
If she knew what I had planned she would have tried to talk me out of it. I’m putting so much on the line for her, but it’s the only option I see. I have to be with her, and if I don’t do this, I won’t ever be able to be. Not in the way I want.
She’ll always be a weakness to me. Nicky would be able to use her to leverage me to do whatever he wanted. And then I would be putting Josh and Ella in danger too. And that’s unacceptable. I should have put my foot down earlier. I should have told Barry no, and maybe then Moore would still be alive. Nicky wouldn’t be so furious and maybe I wouldn’t have to be doing what I’m about to do.
Desperate times though. Desperate times.
I’m heading to the warehouse for the fight, but I take a sharp turn that will take me back downtown. I can feel my heart start to race as I get closer. My body is screaming out for me to turn around, but I can’t. I have to do this. It’s what I need to be able to follow through with my plan.
The old house comes into view, and I feel myself break out into a cold sweat. There it is, the blue paint, the tire swing, the old battered porch. The home I used to have.
I’m never going back, I think as I stop my truck out front. Never.
Part of me has stuck to the fantasy of my life returning to normal, as though one day I’d just be able to press rewind and get back what I’d lost. I’d dreamt about things going differently. I’d prayed countless times to wake up with Christine by my side and my daughter’s laugh coming from the living room.
But those days are gone and never coming back.
I have to put the ghosts of my past to bed. I’m moving on. I’ve found a woman who will make me happy for the rest of my life, and I’m giving my heart to her. No, she’s taken my heart, and I’ve let her.
The house is now just a reminder of what I lost. It’s holding me back, and it has been all this time. I stare at it, letting the feelings and emotions of those times wash over me, flow through me, and continue on.
I’m still standing.
My hands grip the wheel of my truck, and I step on the gas. As I pull away from my old house, I leave it all behind. All my memories, my ghosts, my past. It’s all behind me now, not even a reflection in my rear view mirror. There’s nothing in my life now but a future. A beautiful woman that I’ve fallen in love with, and a family.
Gourmet Meats. The sign greets me for the last time as I pull my truck into the parking lot. This is the last time I’ll ever have to look at this place again. After today, I’ll never be back.
My truck door groans as I push it open and begin my last walk across the cracked pavement of the parking lot. My hand is throbbing at my side, a reminder of just how ready I am to move on. I feel like my senses are all on high alert. I can feel every stone under my feet and hear every scratch of sand with every step I take. I can smell the grease and oil from the stained parking lot and the acrid scent of old trash when the breeze kicks up. I can feel the thick humid air against my skin and am conscious of every breath and every beat of my heart.
I’m focused. I’m on high alert, but I’m composed.
I’m ready for anything.
I boot the door open casually and step into the dank back hall and its flickering fluorescents reflecting off cracked green tile. Something’s dripping from the ceiling causing a thin film of moisture on the floor. My footsteps echoed across the walls as I step up to the locker room door and push it open.
Barry is sitting on a bench at the center of the room, slumped over like a beaten dog. He looks like he’s been pretty worked over by Nicky’s men. One eye is blacked and there’s some partially healed cuts across his face. Looks like someone beat him with a pipe.
“Hey,” he mutters as I close the door behind me. I can hear the dull sounds of the crowd already accumulating in the main warehouse for the fight. I’ve been so caught up in everything that’s been going on that I don’t even know who I’m up against. Not like it matters.
“How you doing?” I ask him.
He shrugs, “How do I look?”
“Like a badass,” I joke, moving to the sink. Examining myself in the mirror, I try to see myself as a new man. I try to picture myself before my family, before the war. I try to look at myself like Jenny must see me.
“If this doesn’t work, we’re fucked,” I tell him.
“No shit,” he grumbles back. “What, are you scared now?”
He doesn’t sound too happy.
“You heard from the boys?”
“Yeah, everything’s a go,” he says.
“And placed the—”
“Yes, Ty! Yes!” he shouts. He really is nervous. But I can’t let that affect me right now. I have to stay focused. I keep my eyes glued to the mirror, studying my reflection, keeping my thoughts in the moment.
Three hours. Three hours and it’s all over, I think.
“Your mom says—”
“I don’t want to know!” I snap, cutting him off. I can’t have her on my mind right now. My hands grip the sink tight, so tight that the pain in my hand returns with a jolt. I grit my teeth and take it. I have to get used to it if I’m going to do what I’m about to.
“Fuck,” Barry groans.
“Shut up, Barry! You guys got me into this, and now I’m going to get us out of it. You just do like we planned and try not to get us killed!”
It’s harsh, but Barry needs to hear it. This is no time for self pity. This is life or death, and we’ve already lost one of us. I’d rather hurt his feelings now than stand over his lifeless body later.
I turn from the mirror and walk straight up to him and slap him in the face. He recoils in surprise, and I see the anger wash over his face. Before he can speak, I yell in his face.
“That’s right! Wake the fuck up! It’s time to do this!”
I push him, threatening to knock him back off the bench. He leaps to his feet and glares at me, pushing against me with his chest.
“That’s it! Let’s go!” I roar, thumping him hard on the arm. “You ready?!”
He nods quickly and I turn, marching out of the locker room.
“Let’s do this,” I say.
We walk quickly up the hall towards the main room, the sounds of the crowd growing louder as we approach. The air grows thicker as we take the stairs, and the smell of smoke, booze and bodies invades the air. My breath comes in short shallow sips and my heart is pumping. I’m ready. I push the door open and am greeted by a roar from the crowd.
The place is more packed than it’s ever been, and the spectators are in a frenzy. They’re out for blood today. I sense Barry peel off behind me as I make my way towards the ring, bodies moving out of my way.
My eyes scan the horde of people and see Little Nicky in the shadows, a look of nervous determination on his face. Our eyes meet, just briefly, and I smile.
If only you knew what was about to hit you, you son of a bitch.
Vinnie and Don are standing beside him, looking at me like they own me. They think they are still holding all the cards, but they don’t know that tonight I’ve stacked the deck.
The crowd roars as I slip under the ropes and step into the ring. I recognize my opponent. His name’s Big Bruce, aptly named because he has a good eighty pounds on me. Weight classes aren’t exactly enforced around here. He looks like a roided up Viking and is practically screaming as he psyches himself up in his corner.
He sees me, and pounds his chest, shooting daggers at me.
He thinks he’s going to win.
So does Nicky.
Everyone here thinks they know how tonight is going to go. The odds against me are astronomical. And that’s what’s going to make tonight a success.
My hand is throbbing as the ref steps up beside me.
“Both fighters ready?” he shouts. The crowd cheers in response.
Big Bruce screams from his corner. The ref looks at me and I simply nod, my eyes focused on my opponent, my mind on my future.
“All right,” the ref shouts. “Fight!”