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Blood-tinged liquid stains the already dark red concrete.
“Good fight, son, well done,” Mick says, coming into the room, his smile big, his chest puffed out.
It’s all money for him.
Big money. The biggest.
I nod. He narrows his eyes.
“Do you need to rest before your next fight?” Sharleen asks.
I glare at her. I can’t stand her. She knows it, I know it, Mick knows it, but that doesn’t stop her from attempting to crawl back into my good books. “Do I look like I need to fuckin’ rest, Sharleen?”
“Don’t speak to her like that, boy, she’s doin’ what I’m tellin’ her to. If you fall, it’s on her.”
I spin on the man who brought me into this world, and it takes everything in me not to kill him. I dream of it, I fucking crave it. Once he might have been able to drop me on my ass but now? Now I’m pumped full of steroids and twice the size I was before. I fucking hate him for that almost as much as I hate him for bringing me here.
One day, I’ll have his blood.
I vow it.
“Don’t tell me who I will and won’t speak to. I’ll do what I fuckin’ want, and if you’ve got a problem with it, then I’ll leave and you can find someone else to play your fuckin’ sick games.”
“You leave,” Mick snarls, “and I go and get Willow and fuck her until she can’t move. Then I’ll let everyone else fuck her. Then I’ll let you watch as I slowly kill her in front of you.”
I see red.
My fist moves before my brain kicks in and connects with Mick’s mouth. Sharleen screams. Mick stumbles backward gripping his jaw and panting with rage. I’m panting an equal amount, but I want him to fight me. I want him to hurt me. I want him to try so I can give it back.
“You shut your fuckin’ mouth,” I warn.
Mick steps forward, smirking, his fingers rubbing over his jaw. “Punch me all you like, you’re under the chain here, and you know it. You leave, she’s dead. Well, fucked, then dead. You try and get rid of me, I’ve got back up. I’ve got so much back up your little woman will never be safe, even if I’m not here.”
I raise my hand again, but he grips it in his large one and squeezes. My fingers bend and crunch together. I grit my teeth, but I don’t let him see any kind of pain. I lock eyes with him and hold until he pulls on my fist, leaning in closer.
“Hit me again, boy, you won’t like it.”
“Speak about her again,” I spit, “and you won’t like it either.”
“Get back out there and finish this. We’ll talk later.”
“No,” I say, turning, “we won’t. I’m done tonight.”
“We’ve got another fight, Jagger!” Mick roars.
“I don’t give a fuck.”
I lean down and take the shirt sitting on the silver bench. Then, throwing it over my shoulder, I walk out, leaving him to scream and snarl curses at me. Good, let him. I couldn’t care less. I step out into the fresh night air and stroll briskly down the street. Florida. We’ve done three fights here, and I have another two before we go elsewhere. I’m sick of traveling, I’m sick of broken bones, split lips, and pain. I’m always in fucking pain. I’d do it all over again though, for her. I’d do anything for her, and that’s why I’m here.
I think about her every day. I can never get the image of her being dragged away from my mind. I don’t know where she is. I don’t know if she’s okay. Last time I spoke to the boys was the day I left to go find her on that island. I told them if they came after me, I would end them, and they knew I meant it. I told them to keep her away from me. Tore my fuckin’ heart out but I know her, I know she would have come after me if she thought there was a chance.
There isn’t a chance.
While Mick is around, there’s never a chance. I’ve thought of killing him, but it goes far deeper than just him, and he’s made that loud and clear. It’s a massive group of people all willing to defend him. I’d have to take out the lot and even I’m not that good. I haven’t spoken to Maggie in months—I know she’s worried, and I can only hope Willow has explained things to her.
Willow, God, she fuckin’ breaks my heart. She’s on my mind every second of every hellish long day. I broke her, and I know she’s suffering. I can’t fix her. I can’t see her. I can never love her again, and that’s enough to break me. Fighting is the only way to keep on track, it’s a way to channel my anger and, for that, I’m grateful. I’d do anything to make sure she’s safe, and if it means giving my entire life, I will.
