Path To Redemption (Fighter's Den, #1)

Chapter 5 - Jaxon

To say I've had a shitty day would be putting it mildly.

It started with this morning's "training." I'd hoped to get in at least a few exercises or tips but I ended up cleaning the entire damn time. Coach had me broom and dust every inch of the gym like I was fucking Cinderella. I'd just about decked Cameron in the face when he offered to go buy me an apron. The guys had a good laugh while I sulked in my own fury and I'd had to force myself to relax. I knew they were only joking around, shooting the shit and all, but it had been a long time since I joked around with other guys and I wasn't comfortable doing it anymore. Hell, the last time I did something remotely similar to this morning's banter was before Lizzie was born.

I'd had plenty of guys I was friends with way back when. I used to go out for a beer with my boys, or watch football games at someone's house, or even meet up for a game of pool. When I had Lizzie, I just couldn't find the time to be a normal guy. I didn't regret having Lizzie because of that, not for a second. In fact, it was when Tara walked out on us that I purposely began distancing myself from everyone out of anger and maybe even fear. I'd secluded myself on purpose and now, being thrown into a situation where I was surrounded by guys that I could potentially be friends with, I just didn't know how to involve myself.

The reminder of my past was enough to have me scowling the entire time at the gym. The guy's sensed I wasn't up for a laugh so they immediately dropped the jokes and I felt like shit. It seemed I just didn't know how to not push others away. But what else was one to do when everyone in their life was either taken away or walked out on them? I tried to stay away from my thoughts by busting my ass at my first job, bartending at a local pub. There was hardly a rush but I made sure that every second of my shift was spent doing something. The few customers that did come were all men and this fouled my mood further. The best tips came from the women and I knew it was because of the way I looked, shallow as it may sound. I'd barely made ten dollars in tips by the time I was off my shift and making my way to my second job. Every lack of dollar felt like I was letting my daughter down and the knowledge of that had me fuming by the time I arrived at the local thrift shop I worked my second job at. It was admittedly the better job of the the two I had. Not because of the pay, which was less than what I made at the bar, but because the thrift shop offered employee discounts that made shopping for Lizzie's clothes a hell of a lot easier. So imagine my fury when I walked out of my shift fired. Yeah, fired.

I'd been handling the new shipping of clothes working maintenance in the back room when Casey, a co-worker of mine, sauntered in with a feral look on her face.

"Hey, handsome." She'd cooed.

I'd smiled back politely but offered nothing else. Casey was hot, sure. She was a busty blonde with one glorious face to match and I'm pretty sure she was a stripper. But I knew better than mixing business with pleasure, having been in similar situations before. Besides, it was a known fact that girls couldn't handle friends with benefits. No matter how clear the rules were, no matter how many times you tell them it's just sex, they always let their emotions get in the way. So when Casey suggestively ran her hand down my stomach and dangerously close to my dick, I'd swatted her hand away in agitation.

"I'm not in the mood, Casey. I've told you no more than enough."

"But I can make it better," She pouted and gripped me through my jeans. I was a guy, so of course my body reacted and Casey didn't miss the hardening underneath her hands. She grinned at me wickedly and dropped to her knees in front of me before I could tell her to fuck off.

"See," She purred, placing her hands on my thighs and digging her claw-like nails into my skin. "You want me."

I placed a hand on her head, ready to push her away, but never got the chance.