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“And I care because?”
“Because he needs you, and you're not doing your job.”
“I’m done, man. I can’t keep up with school and shit.” I don’t mean for the excuse to come out loud, but as it does, the motherfucker’s eyes widen in shock. I swear, even a smile tugs at his lips for a second, before he remembers that he came here for a reason.
“You don’t call the shots around here, kid. If Donny needs you, you come running. You know how it works.”
“And what if I don’t? Then what? Or is that why you're here? Disposal of the unwanted trash.” Something flashes in his eyes, but I don’t need to see it to know I just hit the nail on the head.
I square my feet, waiting for his first move and praying that I’m sober enough right now to stand even half a chance going up against this guy.
“Come on then, big man. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
A crowd starts to gather around us. The only thing more addictive than the drugs in this place is people’s need for blood.
I dodge his first few swings. He’s not as agile as I once remember him being, and I wonder why Donny didn’t send someone younger. He knows I can handle myself. I’d have thought he’d know to send someone who could match me.
Unlike him, I land my first few blows. I ram my knuckles into his ribs, his jaw, and shatter his nose. It’s then he sees red and he comes flying at me.
The pain of his fists is nothing less than I deserve and I revel in it, using it to spur me on.
The crowd cheers as we continue. Blood streams from his nose as I spit out what’s filling my mouth from the cut in my lips.
“You ready to give up yet?” I taunt as we stare each other down.
He bares his teeth and reaches behind him. His knife reflects the roaring bonfire that’s somewhere behind me. I follow his move, but when I reach for my own weapon, it’s not there.
I briefly remember the events of tonight, of how quickly I dressed and got out of that pool house. I never leave my knife or gun behind, but because of her I fucking did. And exactly when I need it most.
He takes a step forward, and I prepare myself for what’s to come. I can take this motherfucker down easily, but with a knife in his hand I’m much less confident.
The atmosphere around us becomes heavy with tension, and my previous thoughts about being in bed with Remi come back to me.
Why the fuck did I bother with all of this bullshit?
Is my need for revenge really worth all the pain? I remember her face as I said those final words to her. The devastation in her features guts me almost as much now as it did only a few hours ago.
My body moves on autopilot. I no longer feel his blows, nor when my own fists connect with him. The roar of the crowd fades away, and I’m no longer fighting a person but my own fucking demons, my own bad and fucked-up decisions that led me here.
Clarity comes back to me a couple of seconds too late.
I need to get out of here. I need to go back to her. I need to tell her how I really feel.
That’s the moment his final blow comes.
Everything goes black as pain shoots from my knees as they hit the gravel beneath me only moments before the rest of my body crashes to the ground.
Before everything fades away, it’s only her face I see. But she’s not smiling, she’s got tears streaming down her face as she watches me leave.
I’m used to pain. Alongside anger, it’s what’s fueled most of my life up until this point. So coming back around with every part of my body screaming in pain is not uncommon. I’d just forgotten how much it fucking sucked since living the high life for the past few weeks.
I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to discover the reality about where I am and what’s happened to me since that motherfucker took me out. It could have been an hour ago, or days ago, I’ve no fucking clue. All I do know is that the darkness, the nothingness, was a hell of a lot better than reality.
I crave being dragged back under so I don’t have to think, so the regret and guilt that’s been eating me since walking away from Remi will leave me once again. But it doesn't happen.
My body comes back to me more with every passing second, and when my urgent need to take a piss makes itself known, I risk cracking my eyes open. “What the fuck?”
