Chapter Twenty-Two
It’s been a week since I saw Joey. Since our amazing time away in Sag Harbor. The three days he promised we would spend together before he had to shut down for his training came and went without me even laying eyes on him.
He’s text a handful of times, but there has been no real conversation.
To say I’m disappointed is an understatement. I realized from the moment Sam said those words that Joey’s life got flipped on its head.
Work was so busy I barely had time to think, but as soon as I went on break, I looked everything up on my phone. From the shit Marris was talking, all the bullshit other people then started saying about how he had only won so many fights because he was taking drugs. Then researching doping in sports.
One of the other waitstaff had to come and find me when my break was over and I hadn’t returned.
My heart is breaking for him. Joey has worked hard to get where he is. He would never, ever take drugs to enhance his abilities. I’ve never met a man with more integrity than Joey .
He’s refusing to talk about it with me. His texts are only letting me know he’s okay and he’ll catch up soon, or not to worry about him, or asking how I am.
I get it, this is his life and having all of those people question your integrity has to be hard for him. But all I want to do is help. I’m not sure how, but I could do something. It hurts a little knowing that he doesn’t trust me enough to let me in.
Saying that, do we really know each other that well? Why would he trust me to help him?
All of my insecurities are coming back to the forefront of my mind. I was never good enough. I always got in the way. My opinions are worthless.
I try desperately to counteract those thoughts, knowing Joey would hate to know I’m thinking like this. It’s hard for me to switch off and I end up going to an extra therapy session to have myself convinced I’m not a waste of time. All that ends up doing is making me wonder if I should have even tried to be in a relationship.
If the first sign of trouble means they will walk away, I can’t settle for that. I’m worth more. I know that now. Being walked all over is not an option for me.
Have I blindly trusted the first man who came along and made me feel something I’ve not felt in a long time?
Didn’t it start out that way with Michael? I refuse to believe Joey could be like Michael. Even if he distances himself and realizes this isn’t what he wants, then it won’t be because he is anything like Michael.
Logically, I know I’m projecting. I know my insecurities are taking over. Reassurance should come from within myself, not from someone else. Am I falling into the trap of relying on someone too?
These thoughts swirl around my head for days, getting louder, making me feel more like an idiot. With every day that passes, and I have minimal contact with him, my heart breaks just that little more .
I haven’t told the girls what is going on. Jenna has been preoccupied nursing Adam back to health and has moved her things into his apartment.
Brooke is tied up in a case and I don’t want to bother her with these petty little issues, things I need to work through myself. Elsa is coming in a few days. There are a few things planned. I just need to focus on that.
All I can do is focus on myself. Stop this spiral and get back to the place I was at before.
Before Joey.
The next day, the news comes that the fight has been postponed. Marris is on TV and social media again, saying he now knows full well he can beat Joey and would have beat him in their first fight if he hadn’t been taking drugs to better himself.
It breaks my heart when the cameras show shots of the front of Sam’s gym, capturing glimpses of Joey as he comes and goes, straight out of the car that drops him at the front of the gym, and picks him up in the same place. I’m not sure who it is that is driving, but they’re there for him every day.
He’s maintained his silence throughout the whole thing, which is admirable, but I think it’s hurting him too. It leaves people free to speculate.
Jenna was in a rage when she found out. Despite how close I got to Joey, Jenna knows him a lot better than I do and she is adamant he would never do anything like that. But she isn’t sure how to help either. I hate sitting here doing nothing, knowing he’s hurting. Breaking my rule of letting things play out and keeping my well-being at the forefront, I pick up my phone.
MEGAN
I just want to let you know I’m here.
The message goes unread. Instead of focusing on how much I’m hurting over this, I decide to do some research on Kelvin Marris. There are tons of articles about him. A lot has been brought up since this whole mess.
Most of the stories are about his fight with Joey, the original one, and this one that has been put on hold, pending results of Joey’s drug tests. I hate reading that.
I skim through news reports, social media posts, his social media, and follow trails from friends who’ve commented, his family. After a while, I realize I’m on the wrong track.
It’s not the people who like him I should be looking at. It’s the people who don’t like him. Ones who have had nothing but bad things to say about him, and ones he has hurt over the years.
The further down that rabbit hole I go, the more I dislike this guy. Obscure comments by people on his posts take a while to distinguish from disgruntled internet trolls and people who genuinely have a problem with the guy.
After what seems like forever, my eyes are hurting from all the staring at the screen. I come across a woman who has made a few comments about him being a thief and a liar. I’m not sure this is the smoking gun I need, but I click into her social media profiles and try to glean some more information.
She posts about her brother, who passed away about seven years ago. She doesn’t go into much detail about what happened, just obscure comments it was not his fault, he should never have been where he was, and you can’t trust your so-called friends.
I switch over to a fresh page and type in their names. Police shot and killed her brother during an attempted robbery at a convenience store when he was sixteen. I have to google Astoria Heights, and learn it’s an affluent, middle-class area in Queens.
His family says he was a good kid, never got into trouble, the school corroborates it and everyone seems shocked this boy was involved in a crime like this. It mentions another suspect was present at the time of the robbery, but remained unidentified and eluded police. Was it Marris ?
Biting my thumb nail, I double back and check on Marris and where he grew up. That wasn’t something I checked before. He was born and raised in the Queensbridge Houses, a public housing development in an area in Queens. Apparently, it’s one of the largest housing projects in North America. It’s about two miles away from Astoria.
My mind reels. This could be something to help Joey get back at him.
I’m so lost in my thoughts, I barely hear my phone ringing. It’s been hours since I text Joey, so I’m surprised when it’s his name on the display. I lunge across the desk and grab it. Who knows how long it’s been ringing?
“Hello?”
“Hey, I was just going to hang up and text you. Am I interrupting something?”
“No, I’m not busy,” I glare at the image of Kelvin Marris on my computer screen. I slap it closed so I can no longer see his face. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. Things are happening.”
“They are?” I ask. I don’t know what else to say. I want to help him, but I don’t want him to reject me. Not as much as he already has done by not calling me. His calling is a good sign though, right?
He’s quiet for so long. I pull the phone away to check the call hasn’t dropped out.
“Meg, you believe me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” I say. “You don’t even have to ask, Joey. If you’d taken the time to talk to me, I could have told you that days ago.”
That brings more silence. I didn’t mean to be so forthright, and my voice carried an edge of irritation I want to take back and tell him I didn’t mean it. But I bite my tongue. I won’t apologize for being angry and upset at him blocking me out.
“I’ve kept quiet for so long and tried to avoid everyone, so they don’t get dragged into this,” he says. “Angelina has been blowing up my phone for days. Dixon had to tell her it was for her own good and to stop hassling me.”
“It’s only because she cares.”
“Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “It’s been hard. Ignoring all the bullshit in the press, letting him spew his vile crap about me. Me hiding away has nothing to do with not wanting to stand up to the prick, and everything to do with protecting me and my family and friends.”
My heart melts a little, but I’m still not convinced he means me.
“All the people I care about Meg,” he says. “You more than anyone.”
“What?” I breathe out.
“The asshole was saying shit about you.”
“What?” I blurt out this time.
“Yeah, he didn’t mention you by name, but he was saying shit about ‘my woman’. The fucking prick is lucky Sam was there to stop me going after him.”
My mouth is hanging open. That’s why he stayed away? Because he was protecting me?
“Things have been going on in the background. Sam has had me focused on training to keep me from doing something stupid.”
“Are you still planning on fighting him?” I ask, my eyes wide.
“No,” he laughs. “Not a fucking chance. That’s part of the huge announcement happening tomorrow.”
“What huge announcement?”
“Are you alone?”
“What? Why do you ask? I am though,” I add.
“Can I come up?”
I get up and walk to the window. It’s hard to see down to the street from this high. I’m not even sure what I’m hoping to see.
Then I see him standing by his car on the sidewalk. He’s wearing a hat and is looking up towards my building, his phone pressed to his ear and positioned where he knows I will see him.
“Yes, just come over. ”
“The doorman is that guy. You know, the real friendly one.”
“Oh,” I cringe. The one who loves Joey and will want to talk to him about all of this. “I could keep him occupied while you sneak in.”
“Not sure you remember, Kitten. I’m not the kind of guy who can sneak in anywhere.”
“I remember,” I whisper.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “You know what, just stay where you are. I can handle it.”
“But-”
“I’m going in. If I’m not at your door in five minutes, come rescue me.”
I watch him as he ends the call, gives me a wave, and jogs across the street to my building.
Turning, I see all the evidence of what I’ve been doing for the last few hours. Shit. I’ve been scrawling notes about Marris. His face is still on the screen when I open my laptop. I shut it down and tidy everything up, then run to the bathroom to check on my appearance.
My hair is a mess from running my hands through it, and there are smudges under my eyes where I’ve rubbed my mascara. Good lord.
Using a wet wipe, I clean up my face, finger brush my hair, then straighten up my clothes, just as there is a tap at the door.
I hurry out and turn the locks.
“Megan, check who it is,” he says.
“I know it’s you.”
“You should still check,” he scolds me.
I peer through the peephole and see Joey standing there. Not that I didn’t already know who it was. But he’s right. All the things I’ve ingrained in myself over the years just went by the wayside because I am desperate to see him. That jolts me for a second .
“Are you okay?” he asks from the other side of the door.
When the door swings open, he stares at me, that knowing look in his eyes. He gives me a soft smile and steps inside, closing the door, then he wraps me up in his arms and I push my face against his chest.
“That was my fault,” he says. “I shouldn’t have been so careless.”
“I’m the one who was careless.”
“If you weren’t so excited to see me,” he starts, and I pull back to see him grinning.
“Ass,” I punch his chest. It’s like a puff of air hitting a brick wall.
Joey takes my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “You don’t know how hard it’s been not to drive over here to see you.”
“Really?” I ask, not believing that.
“Megan,” he takes my chin and lifts it, leaving me no choice but to look at him. “If I thought for one second the assholes in the press wouldn’t use you against me, I would have been here all the time. It’s been fucking torture not seeing you.”
My lip trembles. Joey dips down and takes it between his. He surrounds my senses, his scent, his warmth, his touch. Every single insecure thought that Joey doesn’t want me melts away in an instant.
I try to hold on to some of it, not because I don’t believe him, because I don’t want to give up any of my integrity.
If being around Joey has taught me anything, it’s that you have to believe in yourself and hold yourself to a moral standard that includes not thinking foolishly. It’s not unnatural for me to have felt the way I did. My therapist said as much. But there is a fine balance between giving myself over to someone, and being sensible, trusting him but maintaining that trust in myself.
“For me too,” I admit, when he pulls back, sweeping my hair over my shoulder.
His eyes bore straight inside of me, reading the truth in mine. But he sees the steel there too, and he nods in approval.
“So, what is this big announcement?” I ask.