Get off on the Pain
Page 49
I see pain flash through his eyes before he jerks his face away and growls. He knows what it’s like to only have a few people to care about. I hate using this against him, but I have no other choice.
“Well shit.” His jaw flexes as he lets out another breath. “He’s fighting for some guy named Asher Sharp. This is his last fight and then he’s done. It’s all because of me, but this is supposed to pay off my debt and then there’s nothing else to worry about. I promise.”
My blood runs cold as the words leave his mouth.
Asher Sharp. Asher Sharp.
The words repeat in my head until I start to feel dizzy. I try to speak, I know I do, because I feel my lips moving, but nothing comes out. Not a single syllable.
“Lyric.” I feel Alex shaking me until I look up and meet his eyes. It takes me a second for my eyes to come into focus. “Are you okay?”
“We need to go. Now!” I take off for the door in a panic. “Take me to him, Alex! Take me right fucking now.”
“Whoa!” Alex grabs my arm and pulls me back before I can make it outside. “Where the hell are you going? I’m not taking you there. I don’t have a death wish. I already fucked myself by even telling you.”
I yank my arm out of his grip and run past Styles and outside. I don’t care about anything right now. The whole world can kiss my ass. All I care about is getting to Memphis before it’s too late.
“I’m going to him. I have to get there before the fight starts.” I’m in the middle of running to my car when I feel Alex’s arms encircle me, stopping me midstride. “Let go of me!”
I start swinging at Alex, but he refuses to let go of me. “I’m not letting you go there alone. Fuck! I shouldn’t have told you. It’s not safe for you there.”
“He’s my father, Alex. He’s my fucking father and he’s a ruthless bastard. I have to get to Memphis.”
Alex’s grip on me loosens and turns into a hug as I start sobbing in his arms. This is my fault. None of this would be happening if I had turned him in years ago, but I didn’t. Instead, I let him leave. I let him fucking leave because he’s my only family. As much as I hate him, he’s my only family by blood. Blood always comes first . . . until now.
“Fuck,” Alex whispers.
Fuck is exactly what I’m thinking
IT’S DARK, WET, AND SMELLS like ass in here. Even from here in the back room I can hear the screaming of the crowd going wild, waiting for the fight to start. All they care about is blood. Most of them probably don’t even give a shit about who it belongs to. I realized that during the last fight. Compared to the alley fights this shit is hellish.
I was told this would be the last one. All I have to do is win this fight, follow Asher’s orders, whatever the fuck that may be, and Alex goes free. I made sure of that.
Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths and release them before swinging at the heavy bag in front of me. Talking with Jack earlier today has me even more pumped up and anxious to get this over with than usual. I realized he was right. It’s time to leave my anger in the past and get on with my life. I’m ready to do that, more now than ever before. It’s going to be hard, but I’m a fighter; always have been.
I swing at the bag a few more times before gripping it and growling, letting some of my heated anger out. I’ve been in this room for the last hour. My knuckles are even more cut up and swollen now. It doesn’t bother me though. The pain has nothing compared to what I’ll have when this is all over: freedom.
I look up when I hear the door squeak open. Two men in suits walk in. The bald one nods his head toward the door. “Be ready in five minutes. The boss said you better be ready to win or be ready to die. It’s your fucking choice which one it will be.”
I grind my jaw and flex my fists at my sides. “I’ll win. Tell him not to worry,” I say stiffly.
As soon as the door closes behind them I turn back to the bag and swing out as hard as I can. I feel a pop somewhere in my hand, but the pain is spread out so evenly that I can’t tell exactly what just broke. It doesn’t matter.
I stand there for a few more minutes, evening out my breathing, before I make my way out of the room. The other fighter is in a room on the opposite side of the warehouse, so I won’t get a glimpse at who it is until I’m in the ring.
A line of suited up douchebags stand against the wall as I make my way down the long hall toward the main room. The closer I get the louder the screaming gets, pumping me up and giving me a rush. After tonight I need to push this feeling aside. I won’t need it anymore. This is a promise I’m making to my family . . . to myself.
Once I get in front of the crooked ass stage, I look to my left to see Asher sitting in his stupid chair all high and mighty. There’s always three chairs surrounding him and the one to his left is always empty. The other one has an older man that looks about his age but isn’t as big as him. I remember seeing him last time, but he didn’t say or do anything to stand out.
I feel someone shove me forward. “Get ready.”
Swinging my elbow out, it connects with the asshole’s jaw, causing him to stumble backward. He tries coming at me, but before he can manage my name is being called to enter the stage.
The crowd starts chanting my name, a few of them whistling as I crack my neck and make my entrance. As I look around me everyone seems to look the fucking same. None of these faces matter to me. Pleasing them means nothing to me.
After a few seconds the screaming dies out with the entry of my opponent as he starts making his way down his path towards this hell. I turn my back toward him, not wanting to get a look at his face until I have to. That’s only going to get me more anxious, and right now I need to focus. I hear the ring announcer speaking, introducing the other fighter, but it’s all blurring together, non-comprehendible as I withdraw into myself to focus on my breathing.
“ . . . Ryder, the Cruiser, Lane . . .”
I suck in a breath and tilt my head back as soon as Ryder’s name leaves his mouth. I feel my whole body tense into a different kind of anger now. This isn’t just fighting for Asher now. This is personal. I’ve had beef with Ryder for as long as I can remember, and his father arresting me that shitty night was all Ryder needed to believe that he won. This is real fucking personal.
Ryder jumps between the ropes with a sickening grin on his face, eyeing me up and down as if this is his chance to prove that he still has the upper hand. Nah. Fuck that. I won’t let that happen. He isn’t shit in my world.
“Well shit.” His jaw flexes as he lets out another breath. “He’s fighting for some guy named Asher Sharp. This is his last fight and then he’s done. It’s all because of me, but this is supposed to pay off my debt and then there’s nothing else to worry about. I promise.”
My blood runs cold as the words leave his mouth.
Asher Sharp. Asher Sharp.
The words repeat in my head until I start to feel dizzy. I try to speak, I know I do, because I feel my lips moving, but nothing comes out. Not a single syllable.
“Lyric.” I feel Alex shaking me until I look up and meet his eyes. It takes me a second for my eyes to come into focus. “Are you okay?”
“We need to go. Now!” I take off for the door in a panic. “Take me to him, Alex! Take me right fucking now.”
“Whoa!” Alex grabs my arm and pulls me back before I can make it outside. “Where the hell are you going? I’m not taking you there. I don’t have a death wish. I already fucked myself by even telling you.”
I yank my arm out of his grip and run past Styles and outside. I don’t care about anything right now. The whole world can kiss my ass. All I care about is getting to Memphis before it’s too late.
“I’m going to him. I have to get there before the fight starts.” I’m in the middle of running to my car when I feel Alex’s arms encircle me, stopping me midstride. “Let go of me!”
I start swinging at Alex, but he refuses to let go of me. “I’m not letting you go there alone. Fuck! I shouldn’t have told you. It’s not safe for you there.”
“He’s my father, Alex. He’s my fucking father and he’s a ruthless bastard. I have to get to Memphis.”
Alex’s grip on me loosens and turns into a hug as I start sobbing in his arms. This is my fault. None of this would be happening if I had turned him in years ago, but I didn’t. Instead, I let him leave. I let him fucking leave because he’s my only family. As much as I hate him, he’s my only family by blood. Blood always comes first . . . until now.
“Fuck,” Alex whispers.
Fuck is exactly what I’m thinking
IT’S DARK, WET, AND SMELLS like ass in here. Even from here in the back room I can hear the screaming of the crowd going wild, waiting for the fight to start. All they care about is blood. Most of them probably don’t even give a shit about who it belongs to. I realized that during the last fight. Compared to the alley fights this shit is hellish.
I was told this would be the last one. All I have to do is win this fight, follow Asher’s orders, whatever the fuck that may be, and Alex goes free. I made sure of that.
Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths and release them before swinging at the heavy bag in front of me. Talking with Jack earlier today has me even more pumped up and anxious to get this over with than usual. I realized he was right. It’s time to leave my anger in the past and get on with my life. I’m ready to do that, more now than ever before. It’s going to be hard, but I’m a fighter; always have been.
I swing at the bag a few more times before gripping it and growling, letting some of my heated anger out. I’ve been in this room for the last hour. My knuckles are even more cut up and swollen now. It doesn’t bother me though. The pain has nothing compared to what I’ll have when this is all over: freedom.
I look up when I hear the door squeak open. Two men in suits walk in. The bald one nods his head toward the door. “Be ready in five minutes. The boss said you better be ready to win or be ready to die. It’s your fucking choice which one it will be.”
I grind my jaw and flex my fists at my sides. “I’ll win. Tell him not to worry,” I say stiffly.
As soon as the door closes behind them I turn back to the bag and swing out as hard as I can. I feel a pop somewhere in my hand, but the pain is spread out so evenly that I can’t tell exactly what just broke. It doesn’t matter.
I stand there for a few more minutes, evening out my breathing, before I make my way out of the room. The other fighter is in a room on the opposite side of the warehouse, so I won’t get a glimpse at who it is until I’m in the ring.
A line of suited up douchebags stand against the wall as I make my way down the long hall toward the main room. The closer I get the louder the screaming gets, pumping me up and giving me a rush. After tonight I need to push this feeling aside. I won’t need it anymore. This is a promise I’m making to my family . . . to myself.
Once I get in front of the crooked ass stage, I look to my left to see Asher sitting in his stupid chair all high and mighty. There’s always three chairs surrounding him and the one to his left is always empty. The other one has an older man that looks about his age but isn’t as big as him. I remember seeing him last time, but he didn’t say or do anything to stand out.
I feel someone shove me forward. “Get ready.”
Swinging my elbow out, it connects with the asshole’s jaw, causing him to stumble backward. He tries coming at me, but before he can manage my name is being called to enter the stage.
The crowd starts chanting my name, a few of them whistling as I crack my neck and make my entrance. As I look around me everyone seems to look the fucking same. None of these faces matter to me. Pleasing them means nothing to me.
After a few seconds the screaming dies out with the entry of my opponent as he starts making his way down his path towards this hell. I turn my back toward him, not wanting to get a look at his face until I have to. That’s only going to get me more anxious, and right now I need to focus. I hear the ring announcer speaking, introducing the other fighter, but it’s all blurring together, non-comprehendible as I withdraw into myself to focus on my breathing.
“ . . . Ryder, the Cruiser, Lane . . .”
I suck in a breath and tilt my head back as soon as Ryder’s name leaves his mouth. I feel my whole body tense into a different kind of anger now. This isn’t just fighting for Asher now. This is personal. I’ve had beef with Ryder for as long as I can remember, and his father arresting me that shitty night was all Ryder needed to believe that he won. This is real fucking personal.
Ryder jumps between the ropes with a sickening grin on his face, eyeing me up and down as if this is his chance to prove that he still has the upper hand. Nah. Fuck that. I won’t let that happen. He isn’t shit in my world.
