My swollen eye catches Matteo in the large crowd—he looks beyond pissed at me.What am I doing? If I lose this fight, I could die. If I lose this fight and live, Maisie could die. I know Matteo won’t take nicely to losing money because of me. He would retaliate. And now, I know exactly who his first victim would be.
My eyes harden, ducking just in time when I see the shadow of a fist coming full force at my face. I need this fight to be over so I can go home and figure this all out. They already know about Maisie, so now, I feel like I need to keep her close. Keep her hidden. Or, do I need to pull away, let them see the distance between us?
Fuck, I don’t know what to do anymore. I wish I could go back to that day Matteo approached me and tell him to fuck right off, but I was desperate and tired of watching my baby sister slip away right before my eyes. I couldn’t handle seeing her in pain anymore. So, I traded her pain for mine. I saved her, and I will never regret that decision. I just wish there would have been another way, because now, she’s in just as much danger.
They all are.
All the pent up anger from my situation stirs low in my stomach until it has no choice but to expel itself in the form of my fists. Both my eyes are swollen, dripping blood from the beating my opponent rained down on me for the past ten minutes while I wallowed in my self-pity.
That’s over now.
My arms and legs are bruised and sluggish, but I don’t let it stop me. I’m numb to the pain. I ignore it all and attack my opponent like a crazed man. My fists collide with any part of his body I can find, not discriminating, just needing blood.
First, his face. Then, his stomach. His groin, then his face again. An unending loop of assault until I get lost in the blood lust. His face is unrecognizable at this point, but that doesn’t stop me. I’m pretty sure they blew the whistle a while ago, but my fists don’t stop.
They wanted to make me into a monster. Well, they got what they wanted. I’m no longer a man, my soul sucked away the first time I stepped in this ring. The only thing to bring back a shadow of that man was meeting Maisie.
My fist draws back again, but it’s grabbed before I can land another blow. I’m ripped off my dead opponent and thrown across the ring. I can barely catch my breath, feeling more beast than man.
Matteo pats me on the back, a giant smile on his face. I can’t hear a single word he says, but the joy on his face makes me sick to my stomach. Moretti’s eyes find me next, and I don’t like theemotions reflected on his face.Pity. Sadness, like he’s looking at a lost man. Like he’s repulsed by me.
I can’t take this anymore.
I rush out of the ring, back to the locker room, before anyone can talk to me or congratulate me. I drop to my knees and heave into the dirty toilet, almost not making it in time. I heave until there’s nothing left in my stomach. Even then, I don’t stop, gagging at the feeling of my bloody hands slipping across the porcelain seat I’m draped over.
I sit there for thirty minutes, dry heaving into the toilet until my stomach aches from flexing so much. I don’t feel the pain when my chest slips and my head hits the concrete floor. I don’t feel the headache in the back of my head, a lump instantly swelling. I don’t feel a goddamn thing but self-loathing as I lie like a dead man in my own vomit and blood, staring at the cracked ceiling, counting the little stars that dance in my vision.
At some point, I manage to drag myself up, only for one reason. The pain and memories are starting to come back, and I can’t handle it. There’s only one thing I know to numb it all, one thing to take it all away. My parents taught me that.
My truck bounds down the backroads at breakneck speed. I’m not thinking straight, lost in my haze. I come to a screeching halt at the local store. I grab as much booze as I can fill my arms with and drop a hundred on the register, not waiting for change before I’m running back to my truck.
Roxy would have my neck for entering the ranch this fast, but I don’t care. I finally pull up to my cabin, not even pulling the truck all the way up to my house before I’m out the door and running up my steps.
I drop to my knees when I see the bandana Maisie wore over her face that first day in the barn, now tied around my door handle by barbed wire.
A warning.
They’ve been here. They want me to be their good, obedient boy. They want me to roll on my back and do as they say. If not,they will take her. I don’t think I could live with myself if that happened. I wouldn’twantto.
The whiskey bottle in my hand finds my lips before I even make it inside, chugging a quarter of it in one go. I don’t feel it go down, same as I don’t feel the barbed wire when I throw my door open.
All I feel is losing myself until I see the bottom of the whiskey bottle.
It tastes likefreedom.
maisie
. . .
TWENTY-TWO
I continueto follow the loud noise through the darkness until my feet bring me right up to Grayson’s cabin. I can’t even make out what’s going on, just that there are crashing objects and yelling coming from within.
I’ve never run so fast in my life. I bound up his steps with not a single fear for what I’m walking into. If Grayson needs help, then I’m going to do my best to give it to him. I have 911 pre-dialed on my phone, my thumb hovering over the call button just in case.
I make it up the last step and freeze. There’s blood and glass everywhere. The outer door looks like it was thrown open so hard, it shattered. I step around the shards, following the trail of blood. It’s everywhere, like a mini sea of red.
Crash.
