CHAPTER 35 GRETA #2
My body registers the name before I consciously recognize it. A buzz zips through me, head to belly to feet.
Then they’re coming in, the new fighters. A man with the sides of his head shaved, leaving a black stripe down the middle.
And Jack!
I press my hand to my heart as the crowd rises to its feet. I stand with them, my gaze fixed on Jack.
He’s leaner, stronger, more toned. And tan, so tan.
The tattoos I knew so well swirl across his chest and cover his left arm. The one on his chest is larger than before, but I can’t make it out.
“He’s fighting?” I ask Max. “How is he fighting?”
The crowd sits again as the trainers prep the fighters.
Colt leans in. “He came back to the circuit in January. Grey Beast wanted him on his team. They got him in shape. He’s been fighting in small bouts since March. This is his first decent lineup. Still a long way from a main event. But he’s doing well.” He points at the screen.
Iron Jack’s promo image is up there, looking fierce. I memorize every word. Six-four. Two hundred and five pounds. Win-loss 7-0.
“He hasn’t lost a match?”
“Not yet,” Colt says. “Word is that he fights like his life depends on it.”
“It used to,” I say.
Max smiles and squeezes my arm.
I’m a wreck the entire fight. I swing my arms when Jack does. My legs twitch. I don’t sit down the entire time, but then, nobody does.
The fight doesn’t even go to the second round. Iron Jack pins the other man to the ground for too long, and the ref declares Jack the winner.
“That arm bar is unbeatable, at least so far,” Colt says. “But eventually he’ll work his way up to some contenders who will challenge him.”
“But not today,” Max says. He’s pleased. “You want to go back and see him?”
I swallow hard. Do I?
“Yes,” I say. “Of course.”
“Have fun,” Colt says. “And let us know if you need us.”
I turn to him again. “Thanks. I will.”
Max leads me down to the floor and flashes our passes. We’re ushered through a tunnel and pointed to a door on a long hall below the stands.
It’s quiet down here compared to up above. I try to imagine what I’ll say to Jack. Congratulations, of course. And, you look amazing.
A pair of girls in very tiny satin tops and short-shorts walk by, giggling. Right. He’s in an entirely different world now, but I’m sure the women still all want to be his.
I can do this. Be friendly. Congratulatory.
We enter a room with a table of food, a sofa, and folding chairs scattered around. There’s a bathroom off to the left, the door cocked open.
A woman perched on a chair looks up from her phone. “You here for Iron Jack?”
My belly flips. She’s beautiful, with big blond hair and boobs that could grace a centerfold. Her silvery dress is seriously tight.
Even Max hesitates. “We are,” he says. “You didn’t want to watch the fight?” I can tell from the catch in his throat that he didn’t expect a woman in here, and that he’s drawn the same conclusion as me.
“Nah. It’s bloody and ugly.” She opens a mirror and refreshes her red lipstick. “Is Jack done?”
“Yeah,” Max says. “He won.”
“Of course he did. Grey Beast doesn’t pick just anybody.” She glances at the clock on the wall. “Speaking of which, I better get to his dressing room. Can’t have him eyeballing any of the card girls while I’m away. I’m Jessica, by the way. I heard about you. You’re Greta, right?”
Oh, gosh. My mind whirls as I sort all of this information. “Yes.”
“Grey Beast said you were a looker. Jack doesn’t talk about you much. Seems like it haunts him.” She stands up. “I wish I could be here to see what he thinks when he sees ya, but I gotta go give my Beast his prefight, well, you know, pick me up.”
She pulls on the short edge of her dress and heads out. “Nice meeting you!”
I glance at Max, and we both burst out laughing.
“Did you think…” I ask.
“No, of course not,” Max says.
“You totally did.”
“Okay, maybe.” Max runs his hand over his head. “They should be here any minute.”
The door pushes wide, and the noise level increases as an entire entourage enters the room.
There’s a squat man with a towel around his neck, a young man carrying a metal case, a tall, thin man talking animatedly.
And then Jack.
I watch him enter. He’s bright-eyed and smiling. He’s on an adrenaline high. I recognize it. He slaps the tall man on the back.
Then he sees me.
Everything stops.
The lights wash out everything but him. I can’t catch my breath. He’s beautiful, his blond hair cut expertly but still long and brushing his jaw. His body is so defined, each muscle perfectly placed.
He wears tight black shorts and nothing else other than a bright white towel that covers his shoulders and the top of his chest.
I can’t stop looking.
Neither can he.
Everyone steps back as he approaches me, reaching out to finger my hair. “Greta. You’re here. Your hair. It’s flames.” He touches my shoulder, then pulls back like he’s burned. “You’re here,” he says again.
“I’m here.”
The others head for the table of food, including Max.
“Congratulations,” I say. “You won! You have a whole streak going.”
His gaze won’t leave mine. “You came.”
“I did. Max brought me. I sat next to Colt!” I’m talking randomly, out of my head. I can’t quite pull myself together.
We stand there, looking at each other, and finally Jack grips his towel and looks away, like he can’t stand it anymore. “How long are you here for?”
“Just a few days. It’s spring break. Jude has Caden.”
“Good, good.” Now he’s looking anywhere but at me.
So, he has moved on. Of course he has. What am I doing, standing here gawking at him?
“Well, it was so good watching you fight. Congratulations again.” I take a step back.
He nods, his throat bobbing.
Then he slides the towel off his shoulders and drops it to the arm of the sofa. As he turns away, I spot the new tattoo, right over his heart. It has his parents’ names, like before.
But there’s one more.
My knees turn to water, and I throw out my hand to steady myself on the back of a chair.
Little G.
The chair is small and light, so when I try to use it for stability, it falls over. I lose my balance, all the while thinking, He got a tattoo! For me!
Jack lunges for me, grabbing both arms to prevent me from falling with the chair. “Little G?”
Then he’s close, his hands on me, and I’m not going to let his moment pass. I reach up and cup both cheeks. And I draw his face to mine.
I was fierce enough to clean his wounds. Hold a pistol. Leap at his enemy.
I’m strong enough for this kiss.
His arms wrap around me. His mouth is perfect, warm and just like I remembered. He tastes of Gatorade and salt. He smells like powder and adhesive. Those things are new, but everything else is so familiar.
And I realize I’m home. I wasn’t home before at all.
I decorated walls. Bought dishes. Made beds.
But home isn’t that at all.
It’s where Caden is. Where the Pickles are.
And, somewhere along the way, it also became Iron Jack. I didn’t know it until he was lost and found again.
We break apart, gasping. The room has emptied.
“Greta,” he says at the same time I say, “Jack.”
His eyes are wet. I reach up and touch the corners. “Biker boys don’t cry,” I say.
“That’s not a thing,” he says. “And I should know.”
“Why are you crying now?” I ask.
“Because you’re here. Because you were gone. Because I don’t know how long I’ll get to look at you.”
My chin quivers. “What about the Wild Hair?”
“I made Stoney president. He’s proven it. Chain is VP. They got three new house mouses after the fight, friends of Jami and Christina who were done with the Kin. The club is in great shape. I decided to change my life. Do what my parents wanted for me. And…”
He falters, pressing his forehead to mine.
“And?”
“Building a life that maybe would fit you better. I train with Grey Beast in Virginia.”
I pull back. “You’ve been in Virginia all this time?”
“For training. But there’s the circuit. I travel a lot. It will slow down in a few months. I thought I’d find you then, see if I could win you back with this life rather than the other. But you’re here.” His eyes are leaking now, and I press my thumbs into the tears.
“Iron Jack, you could have told me!”
“I wanted to be sure this would work. That I could do this. That I could win.”
So that’s why he’s so fierce. So determined. For me.
I don’t have to give him up. He’s found a way.
He’s not done. “I love you, Little G. I have since I kissed you in your brother’s bar. Will this work for you? I have to know. I can’t go on now that I’ve seen you unless I know.”
“Iron Jack?”
His tortured gaze meets mine. “Yes, Little G?”
“Fuck me in the shower or I’ll cut you.”
He laughs so hard and so loud that I figure everyone in the hall can hear it.
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
“It’s a yes.” I reach out to touch my name on his chest. “I knew I loved you when I left. I just couldn’t see a path forward.”
“And you do now?”
“I do.”
He grins. “You know, I think you might be the wild one in this family now.”
I grab his hand and drag him to the bathroom. “I am. Get your ass in here before I have to hurt you.”