Something for the Pain (Pain 2)

I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Yeah, maybe . . .”

After cleaning her up, she gets dressed, but leaves her bra off. It’s probably best if she doesn’t wear one for a while, and after I finish her tattoo she will have to wait even longer. I just hope I can handle being in the same house with her.

She stops at the door before walking out. “What exactly are you putting on me anyway, Stud?”

I smirk. “Something important to me. I’ll tell you about it after it’s done.”

She laughs and nods her head. “Alright. I trust you. If you mess me up . . . I’ll just have to kick your ass. Remember that.”

“Oh, I’ll never forget. Trust me. I’ll collect on all of my spankings later.”

“Alright,” she laughs. I love that laugh. “I’ll see you at home in a few hours?”

I shake my head. “I won’t be home until late. I have somewhere I want to stop by tonight.”

“Okay, I’ll cook extra dinner and leave it in the microwave just in case. Okay?”

I nod my head in appreciation. I love how she always wants to take care of me. This woman is special, and I know that it’s not an act, because she’s been doing it for thirteen fucking years. “Thanks, babe.”

Without another word she disappears out the door and I am left unable to concentrate for the next three hours of work.

Well damn . . .

I FIND MYSELF PARKED IN the alley, waiting for Memphis to arrive. It’s been months since we have been here together, and tonight I really need to sit back with him and enjoy a good fight, or hell, even a bad fight; just something to help me relax a bit.

It doesn’t take long for Memphis’ truck to pull up next to mine, parking in any random open space. It’s pretty jam packed here tonight, so most of the cars are practically parked on top of each other.

Memphis jumps out of his truck, dressed in his old leather jacket, a black shirt, and dark jeans. He wears the shit out of that damn jacket. “This better be a damn good fight for you to pull me away tonight.” He complains. “Lyric has the night free, yet I’m here in this dirty alley full of shirtless sweaty dudes with my annoying brother.”

I shake my head and laugh at his greeting. Nothing has changed about that over the years. It’s a welcoming feeling . . . strangely.

“I couldn’t tell ya, dick. I don’t have a clue who’s fighting tonight. My ass just needed to get out and see a show.” I walk over to Memphis and sling my arm over his shoulder. “What better way to enjoy that shit without my big brother? Come on, dude; live a little. You’re turning into an old man.”

I walk ahead of him, swerving my way through the crowd. A few random people stop Memphis, asking him if he’s back to fight, but I just keep walking, looking for a good spot to watch from; somewhere up front and fucking personal. I want to see some blood tonight and get my mind off everything else that’s been happening since moving in with Tripp and Lucas.

Out of nowhere some pretty brunette chick appears next to me, holding out a red cup. She smiles at me, before shoving it in my direction. “You’re that Alex guy, right? You fought here a while back and kicked that dude’s ass . . . I remember that night.”

I smirk and reach for the cup, remembering how good that fight felt. It was one of my first times fighting with a clear head . . . off of the drugs and heavy alcohol that I had been drowning myself in after my mom passed.

“Yeah, glad you enjoyed the fight.”

Smiling, she reaches for another cup from the tray she’s holding and hands it to Memphis as he joins us. “You’re both badass fighters. Hope you boys enjoy the show tonight.”

She waits for Memphis to grab the cup she’s holding out before winking at us both and walking away to refill her tray.

“What the fuck?” Memphis takes a swig of his beer. “Since when did they get chicks to pass out drinks?”

Laughing, I shake my head and take a swig from my own glass. “I have no clue, but that chick had perfect fucking timing. I’m definitely not complaining.”

Two guys enter the makeshift ring and stare each other down, ready to fuck each other up. The crowd starts going wild as the announcer introduces some guy named Cody and another name that I can’t even pronounce.

The blonde guy—Cody, comes at his opponent, swinging a bare-knuckle fist into the right side of his face, almost knocking him over. The blow causes everyone to get rowdy when the guy—whose name my mind can’t even remember, let alone pronounce–wipes at the blood pooling at the side of his mouth.

As he pulls his hand away and sees the blood, he starts rotating his shoulders, preparing himself for his comeback swing. After that hit, he needs something to earn his balls back.

“So what’s the deal,” Memphis asks, distracting me from the fight right as the other dude swings and misses. Damn . . . that was not the comeback he needed.

“What do you mean?” I point my cup out in front of me. “We’re watching a fight here and you’re worried about small talk?”

“Come on, dude,” Memphis growls out, being the overprotective pain in the ass that he is. “Something is fucking with your head. I can see it all over your face. Plus you’re tense as shit. You wanted me here, so talk.”

I pull my eyes away from the fight and turn to face Memphis, taking a quick drink of beer before talking. “Just some shit with Tripp. Nothing that I won’t be able to handle.”

“What kind of shit?”

“Damn, you’re quick on the questions tonight.” I point out in annoyance. “Just some shit. I’m dealing with it. I wanted you here so we could just chill and have a good time, so let’s do it. Drink up and enjoy the fight.”

“I’m not buying it. “Memphis reaches for my cup and finishes off my drink after he tosses his cup in the trash behind him. “There. There are no drinks and the fight just ended. Apichatpong lost his ass off.”

“Who the . . .” I look over Memphis’ shoulder to see the taller dude sprawled out on the dirty gravel, bloodied up and breathing hard. “Son of a bitch. . . . You’re good at ruining shit sometimes.”

Memphis shrugs as if he doesn’t care. “Tell me something I don’t already know. Like what’s going on with Tripp. That’s a big thing to deal with. You and Tripp are . . . well you and Tripp. I’ve never seen a friendship like the freaky one you two have.”