TKO: Total Knock Out (TKO 1)

I don’t say a word, even though he continues to plead for another few minutes before the silence returns. I need to breathe. I need to get out this house alone. I text Lance to see if he’s left the fair, and he agrees to pick me up for drinks at Joe’s.

When I step out of the bathroom, I go into the bedroom to change. He’s watching me intently, waiting for me to crack, but I still don’t speak. As I adjust my spaghetti strap blouse and dab on some lip gloss, I turn to face Garrett.

“I need some time to myself. I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Where are you going?”

He takes my hand, his gaze still pleading. I stand my ground, telling him it’s none of his business. He doesn’t care for that answer but as I kiss him goodbye, he doesn’t argue. I tell him I’ll see him later, then I’m gone. As I step outside, even though the air is full of humidity, I feel like I can breathe again. Within a few seconds, Lance is in front of the apartment, and I tell him to drive away before Garrett notices.

“So, Raegan, you going to tell me what this is about?” Lance turned the radio down on purpose. Asshole. I didn’t want to talk, I just wanted to go sit at Joe’s, get a drink, and forget this mess.

“He lost his marbles because my ex came and said hi at the fair. It meant nothing. He raised his voice at me in front of people. I’ve never been more embarrassed or hurt in my life.”

Lance just listens, but then his phone buzzes and he looks at it before ignoring the call.

“It’s Garrett.” A minute later a text comes through on his phone and he shows it to me.

Raegan left to go out. If you head out, will you keep an eye on her? I fucked up.

“He doesn’t know I picked you up, does he? Great, now he’s going to kick my ass.”

“I needed to get out,” I said, my voice firm. “You didn’t see the look on his face at the fair. It’s the same look he gets in the ring. I’m scared, okay. Is that what you want to hear? What if he put his hands on me? I need my space.”

“Raegan, he wouldn’t dare hit you. He loves you. He won’t shut the hell up about you. I like you and all, but damn, the boy doesn’t stop. In a little bit, you need to let him know I’ve got you so he doesn’t worry.”

Letting out a sigh, I stare out the window until Lance taps my arm, handing me a bottle of beer. I scrunch up my nose, so he reaches down and pulls out a water bottle.

“Water, Lance? No thanks. I’ll wait ‘til we get there.”

“Water? Please. What kind of man do you think I am? It’s vodka.”

I open the bottle and sniff it. Sure enough, it’s vodka. I put the plastic bottle to my lips and throw back a quick sip. The liquid burns sliding down my throat and continues to burn for another few seconds before I open my eyes.

By the time he’s parked, I’m already buzzed. Groups of people walk past heading toward the doors. Lance stands beside me for a minute and then nudges my elbow. Shit, I need to text Garrett now. That’s why he handed me vodka, to loosen me up so this wouldn’t be so hard.

“Get to typing, missy, or I’ll do it for you. You don’t want that.”

You can do this Raegan. It’s just a damn text message. The sooner I send this text, the sooner I can go inside. Without over-thinking it, I just type.

I’m with Lance. Don’t worry.

Short and sweet. I slide the phone back in my pocket, then flash Lance a smile to let him know it’s done. Soon I’m standing in front of the bar waiting. Lance has some redhead practically sucking his ears clean and I want to barf as I sip my Long Island iced tea. The bartender suggested it, and it seemed like a good idea until I drank it too fast and had to catch myself. Laughing uncontrollably, I order a second one.

“Raegan, we are getting fucked up tonight!” Lance high-fived me before slamming back his shot glass. That sounded fine to me. My mind was a little too heavy and needed to be cleared.

A few drinks later, we were both pretty toasted. His eyes took on a sad tone as he began rambling. “I didn’t used to come out a lot you know. I was a mellow guy. My mom has cancer and she’s dying. How fucked up is that? She’s dying and I’m out getting fucked up.”

“Lance, I’m so sorry.”

“I fight to help pay her medical bills. No one but Howard and Garrett knows this but we’re good friends so I know I can trust you. I even met a girl—” He stopped mid-sentence when a song came on, catching his attention. I could’ve sworn he just said he’d met a girl. The whole time I’ve known Lance, I know he doesn’t date girls—not in the normal sense anyway.

When we dance, I know it should feel a awkward to be grinding my ass on Lance, but I’m so drunk I don’t care. My dancing partner strayed when some girl began stripping on the dance floor. His eyes almost popped out his head, and he threw me an apologetic look before gazing hungrily at her nearly bare chest. I wiped the beads of sweat from my brow as I walked clumsily toward the bar.

In my alcohol-hazed mind, I envisioned James in that uniform, and I began to think about what it would be like to get him out of it. My gaze roams the packed dance floor. When I spot Lance, I head outside, tripping, stumbling along.

I laugh at myself as I fumble for my phone and ignore a message from Garrett. Two can play this game. Once again, his face flashes in my head and it’s the face that scares me so much. But then I see the face of the man I love more than anything.

Ugh, this is so damn confusing.