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Thomas stays silent for a while, breathing hard and trying to recover his composure. He’s also trying to decipher my motives if I’m deceiving him and planning a surprise strike.
I let him stand up, though and take his stance. He’s still unsure, but to give him a better lead, I let him make the next move. He lunges at me, and I’m surprised at how much speed he has.
For someone who just got punched across the face, he sure moves concisely.
Here I was thinking this was going to be an unfair fight.
His blow doesn’t connect with me, though as I anticipated them from a mile off. He doesn’t anticipate mine, though.
He’s too desperate.
It comes fast. I step to the side, with one hand guiding his oncoming fist away from me. My other fist rams into his ribs, where he didn’t even see it coming.
He yelps.
“Do you remember his face when you did it?” I ask while he gasps for air.
“Who fucking cares? He was one of make others,” Thomas growls and lunges at me again. This time, I decide that there’s no need dragging this on.
I deflect his pathetic excuse of a punch and show him what a real punch feels like. He can’t see it because it comes straight at his eyes.
He stumbles…my golden opportunity.
I don’t even give him the chance to scream from the last punch before giving him another.
“How do you like this? Huh? Do I punch like a pussy now?” I yell as three punches turn into five and five turns into a barrage of blows.
I punch him until I don’t realize it.
Until I’m screaming at the top of my lungs and till tears fall from my eyes.
I rain my fists upon Thomas until I can no longer tell the difference between the blood in his face and the ones from my bleeding knuckles.
That’s when I feel a soft touch on my upper arm, and I fall backwards.
It’s time to end this.
I pull out my gun and aim it at Thomas’s battered face.
“Get back. I don’t want his blood on you,” I tell the person that touched me just seconds earlier.
It’s Rebecca. I don’t need to look back to know.
“Jordan…please,” she pleads. There’s so much pain in her voice, but to counter that is the pain in my heart, that wouldn’t be alleviated till Thomas lays lifeless before me.
“You took everything from me!” I roar at the man choking on his own blood. “My father was all I had, and you took him from me!”
“Oh, stop whining, you stupid Arab. You have the entire Omani empire.” Thomas coughs, still managing to let out a gurgled laugh. “You have her.” He points behind me.
I blink the tears in my eyes away just so I can get a good look at the woman behind me. She’s a few years older, but I don’t care. I love her with everything.
“You didn’t read what I gave you,” she says softly.
Oh, the note. I thought it was some letter…
With bloodied hands, I pull it out of my pocket and open it. I hate that the paper is now stained with Thomas’s blood, but I ignore the gnawing feeling of hate.
“What’s this?” I squint my eyes, thinking I’m concussed or something from the fight. It doesn’t look like there’s any writing in there.
