TKO: Total Knock Out (TKO 1)

The ride to the station was long and excruciating. My legs were cramping from sitting in the small back seat, and the cuffs felt like they were slicing into my wrists. Just when things couldn’t get any worse, James was the one to remove me from the car and bring me in to be booked.

I’ve never been more embarrassed, but I held my head high. Any time he tried to look at me, I turned away. After I was printed and they took my mugshot, I was handed an orange top and pants to wear. I kept waiting for the chance to make my phone call but no one offered it. I was just placed in a cell alone with no one to talk to. I laid down on the hard cot, tossing and turning, trying to find some level of comfort that didn’t exist and never would.

I thought of Nancy, and wondered if I could call her. I hoped they would let me use the phone soon.

There was a small window in the cell. A tiny glimmer of hope, a reminder of what was outside. Garrett, Howard, Whitney—Nancy. Oh God, Nancy. She would be pissed beyond belief about this but I know deep down I can’t call her.

Hours pass and the sun begins to rise. The shuffling of feet down the concrete hallway stirs me from a small nap as the officers do a morning check after shift change. I stand there numb, lost to the world, as they make sure I’ve made my cot to their expectations. And I have. The thin, frayed cream colored blanket is folded and I’ve managed to not turn my toothbrush into a shank. Breakfast is a joke, nothing but two pieces of toast and some eggs that look fake.

I have to survive this.

“Montgomery?” I look up to see an older woman standing beside me. She must be the supervisor on duty. Her navy uniform is nicely pressed and she seems calmer, less judgmental than the others. Her salt and pepper hair is pulled back into a bun. Her kind eyes reveal tiny laugh lines, and the matronly atmosphere surrounding her brings me comfort on his otherwise dismal morning.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me.”

“I see you didn’t get your phone call last night. Would you like to make one this morning? You are entitled to one.”

I’d been wondering about it; suddenly I know who to call. “Yes, ma’am, I would like to.”

She leads me toward an office with nothing but a desk with a phone sitting on it and a chair, then steps out for a second, giving me a little privacy. I didn’t even sit as I dialed the number praying someone would answer. A tear slides down my cheek as I listen to the phone ring over and over and over again.

Chapter 21

Garrett

I’ve grown to hate how quiet this apartment is without Whitney. I make my own coffee in the morning; it’s not as good as the way she did it. Whitney got me stuck on flavored creamer so here I am nursing a cup like she did the morning she told me she was moving out. Except I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself and my situation with Raegan. If only I hadn’t been a complete ass from the beginning.

This morning I’m supposed to go help Howard get all the baby stuff put together as a surprise for Whitney. After the cup of coffee, I throw on some black shorts and a dark gray shirt. To top it off, I grab the black hat Whitney bought me last Christmas and place it backwards on my head.

On the way to their house, I listen to “Absolutely (Story of A Girl)” and think about Raegan the whole time. If she showed at the gym today, and I know she will, I was going to talk to her. I planned to bare my soul and prayed she would do the same. Then we could finally be together. I know she wants me just as much as I want her. I’ve noticed how her breathing changes when we’re standing close and how her eyes twinkle like the stars when she’s happy. I’ve even felt her heart beat against mine and together they orchestrate the most melodic rhythm.

There’s no point in knocking on the door but I almost wish I had when I stumble upon Howard and Whitney making out against the stainless steel refrigerator. They pull away the minute I clear my throat; Whitney glares at me like she wants to kill me.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, sorry.”

She scowls, stomping into the living room to plop down on the couch. Howard leads me to the baby’s nursery. “She’ll get over it when she sees this room put together, trust me,” he says.

“Sorry, man, I should have knocked.”

He hands me a screwdriver and sits in front of a few scattered pieces of the soon-to-be crib. “You’re good, Garrett, no big deal. Did you get to talk to Raegan yesterday after the shower?”

“No. She was already gone so I’m going to talk to her today.”

“She’s a good girl, Garrett. I know you weren’t happy she wanted to fight again and I had no idea she got paired with Stacy until it was too late. Whitney told me you were pissed. I’m sorry about that. But she’s got good reason to fight.” He adds the last bit offhandedly, then looks as if he regrets mentioning it.

“What was the reason?” I drag part of the crib together, but all I can think about is what he said.

Howard studies my face for a moment, looking worried. “I can’t tell you. It’s not my business.”

Then why the hell did he bring it up? I want to ask him, but his phone starts ringing, and he eyes the number on the screen as if he’s debating answering it.

“You gonna get that man?”

“Yeah, hold on a second.” He answers, listening, then I watch as his face turns bright red and his knuckles whiten while he balls his free hand into a fist. He snaps off a few quick replies, then hangs up.

“Shit,” he mumbles, running his hands through his hair as he stands. “I’ll be right back, I’ve got to take care of something.”

“What’s going on? I can go with you if you need help.”