Chasing My Queen

Chapter2Can'tGet Right

Dayla

I wake up to the cold air blowing through my window. I jump out of bed and take the two steps it takes to get to my old, broken-down couch.

"Dammit, Rick, get the hell out of here!" I tip the drunk homeless man off my couch.

"AAWWWW come on Dayla, just for an hour or two." Rick groans "It's freezing out there"

"No, Rick, you freaking stink. Get out! And how did you break my lock again?" I grab him by the collar of his worn-out camo jacket and drag him to my front door. After opening the three locks I have on it, I shove him out. This is the fourth time this month he's broken my window lock, and taken a nap on my couch. With the payout from a win tonight, I'll have enough to finally put a deposit down on one of the upstairs apartments.

"Dayla, you know I make sure those assholes from the other block leave you alone. Isn't it better to be safe?" Rick pleads with me as I kick his feet from my doorway.

"f**k off Rick. You know I'm the one that protects you! If you need a place to sleep, go to the shelter my apartment is not a free for all."

"You let Kenny sleep here sometimes!" He continues to argue with me. He knows I have a soft spot for him, but this is getting old.

"Kenny is just a kid, and he doesn't sneak in while I'm asleep!" I tell him "Just get out of here, Rick. I need to rest before my fight." I close the door in his face.

"You know I'll be there! I always have your back Day." Rick yells through the door. I put all my locks back in place and rub my hands down my face. Rick is the annoying uncle I never had. He means well but just can't seem to go about things in the right way, a sort of 'can't get right' kind of guy. But I do know he has my back; I can't count how many times he's stitched me up in the last year.

My apartment is small, just one room with a bed in the corner and the kitchen in the opposite corner. I have an old couch set up facing a small TV in the middle of the room. Everything I own is second-hand, but it's mine. I've had it for almost three months now. My own spot with my own stuff. It's the one thing I have to be proud of, and I'll be damned if I let Rick stink it up. I lock the window again knowing I need to figure out something better to keep it closed. I grab a glass of water and sit on my couch. There is no way i'll get back to sleep now. Curling up under a blanket, I grab my newest book, a fantasy romance, I found in a dumpster last week. I'm getting to the point where I realize why someone threw it out, but reading calms my mind. My eyes feel heavy, and it's getting harder to stay awake. My phone buzzes on the little table in my corner kitchen. I jolt out of my half-slumber and grab it.

Liz: Girl are you coming to work this morning or what?

I read Liz's text and check the time. s**t, I'm late for my shift at the diner. How did this happen.

Dayla: Sorry, Liz. Can you cover for me? Be there in 15.

Liz: I got you, girl. Ryan isn't even here yet, so if you hurry you might beat him in.

Dayla: Leaving now!

I quickly strip off my pyjamas and throw on my diner uniform. I run a brush through my long blonde hair then braid it down my back. I grab my bag and rush out the door. Usually it's a ten-minute walk to work, but it only takes me six. I burst through the front doors of the diner, breathless, just as I see Ryan's coupe pull up in the back.

"Here" Liz throws me an apron and my notepad. I tuck my bag under the nearest booth and step up to the first table I see.

"Hey, what can I get you?" I ask with a sweet smile.

"Morning, ladies," Ryan yells as he comes through the back door. "I'll be in the office. Dayla, come see me when you have a minute," he adds.

Shit, I wonder if he knows I was late. I look at Liz; her eyes go wide, and she shrugs her shoulders. I'm already on thin ice with Ryan because I was late twice last week, both not my fault. Maybe I'm the one that 'can't get right' these days. It seems like one thing after another has been going wrong over the last few weeks. I really can't afford to lose this job. I rush and grab my customers' coffee, then quickly pop my head into Ryan's office.

"Hey Ryan what can I do for you?" I put on my sweetest voice, hoping to ease the tension.

"Was that you I saw running down Fifth Street on my way here?"

"Oh umm, no must have been someone else"

"Don't lie, Dayla, you were late again." His voice is full of malice. "Listen, I've kept you around because you're nice to look at and the customers seem to like you, but third strike, you're out."

"Please, Ryan, I really need this job, it..."

"Oh, let it go, Dayla. I know you make most of your money in that underground fighting. You'll be fine." Ryan cuts me off.

"No, Ryan please give me one more chance. I swear I won't be late." I beg him. I need this job. If I don't have a legitimate job to put on my application, I'll never get that apartment.

"Get me on the VIP guest list for your fight, and I'll think about it. I want to see you in less clothes and all sweaty," he says with a smirk on his face. I should have known this sleaze ball would say something like this.

"I don't control the VIP, Ryan." I roll my eyes. "I can get you a ticket if you want."

"VIP or nothing, Dayla. I know you have power there. Now get back to work." He shoos me with his hands like I'm a dog. My blood boils as I walk away, and something deep inside stirs. This burning anger has been boiling deep inside me for weeks now, and I'm starting to wonder how much longer I can contain it. His attitude makes me want to turn back in there and rip his head off. Wow, that is violent. I need to take a breath.

"Hey Liz you good?" I ask as I come back to the front. I see only one other table has filled since I went to see Ryan "Mind if I step out and catch my breath?"

She drops off the coffee she was carrying and rushes over to me "Are you ok? He didn't fire you, did he?" she whispers.

"I'm good, just need five."

"Yeah go. I'll call you if we get too busy."

"Thanks" I grab my bag and sneak out the back door. There are two crates by the dumpsters that the chef and dish boy usually sit at when they come for a smoke. I sit on one, resting my elbows on my knees, and take a deep breath. I can do this; I need to keep this job until my application is approved, then I can say f**k you to Ryan and find something else. I shoot a text to Danny, my coach, and ask about VIP. I know what he's going to tell me, but at least I tried. I feel the heat in my stomach start to calm. Taking one more deep breath, I head back inside.

The rest of my shift flies by, and I'm ready to head to the gym for my last training session before my fight.