12. The Past
The Past
TJ
“Gentlemen,I give you the winner of tonight’s fight: TJ Cutler!”
I raise my arms overhead and the crowd roars.
I bend down to offer my opponent a hand, but he swats me away. “I don’t need your fucking help.”
“Aww, a sore loser? I haven’t met one of those in a while.”
He spits blood at my feet. “Fuck you. You don’t fight fair.”
“Fair?” A laugh rips from my chest. “Nothing’s fair in life. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.”
Bobby’s arm wraps around my shoulders. “Leave this piece of shit here. Take your money and celebrate.”
“What am I celebrating?” I take the wad of cash and stuff it into my pocket.
“Another win. That makes twenty in a row.” He pushes through the crowd as everyone empties out of the building. “Seems like just yesterday you were a string bean. Look at you now. Meetin’ me is the best thing that’s ever happened to your sorry ass.”
“I’d say you’re the lucky one with all the money I’ve made you this year.”
Bobby laughs and slaps me on the back. “Come on. I’ve got a birthday gift for you.”
I follow him around a desk by the front door. “What is this place anyway?”
“Supposed to be a gym. We’ll be movin’ on to another location for the next fight. Staten Island’s got tons of empty buildings.” He opens the door in the corner of the room.
I point to the name plate on the door. “Who’s Reggie?”
“Who gives a fuck?” He shoves me through the threshold.
In the room are two identical blonds perched on a leather couch. Scantily clad is a severe understatement, their fake tits straining against the thin straps of their tops. My dick twitches at the thought of a threesome, but I spot something else I want even more.
Beside them on the couch is a needle.
“Happy Birthday.” Bobby winks before closing the door.
I smile and pick up the needle before sitting between the twins. “Hi, ladies.”
“Hi, TJ,” they say in unison. One of them ties an elastic band around my arm and takes the needle from me. Let’s call her Jessica.
Jessica’s sister kneels on the floor and positions herself between my legs, tugging on my shorts. She’ll be Delilah for tonight. I lift my hips and she slides my boxers down around my ankles.
Just as the needle pierces my vein, Delilah takes me into her mouth. My head falls back against the couch as the waves of ecstasy roll over me.
Money in my pocket. Food in my stomach. Heroin in my veins. And a tongue around my cock.
I’d say this is the best birthday I’ve ever had.
A knockat the door stirs me awake. Jessica and Delilah are asleep on either side of me. They’re naked, clothes strewn about the room, and my pants are still around my ankles. Blurred visions of them on me, me on them, and them on each other whirl through my mind.
The knock turns to pounding. I slip out from under the twins and make myself decent. “I’m coming! Hold your fucking horses.” Shoving the remnants of drugs into my pocket, I unlock the door and rip it open.
A man with dark, chocolate skin towers over me. His T-shirt and sweatpants are pulling at the seams trying to contain his muscular physique. The dude is built like Dwayne Johnson. His salt-and-pepper beard is the only hint at his age.
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask.
“The question is who the fuck are you?”
“You’re the one pounding on the door like you own the place.”
“I do own this place. And you’re in my office.”
I blink. “Your office?”
He shoulders past me and takes in the room’s disheveled appearance. He points to the elastic band and spoon on the couch. “Is that heroin?”
“Are you a cop?”
“Do I look like a fucking cop to you?”
“Not the doughnut-eating kind.”
The man snorts. “Get this shit cleaned up. I’ve got work to do.” He walks over to his desk in the corner of the room and sits in the rolling chair.
I nudge the twins with my foot. “Time to go, ladies.”
The man watches me, shaking his head.
“You got something to say, old man?”
“Old man?” He barks out a laugh. “You think you’re a hot shot ‘cause you won a few fights in some reject boxing matches? You don’t know shit about fighting.”
My fists clench at my sides. “You don’t know me.”
He rises from his chair and stalks around his desk. “You’re a junkie who fights for money ‘cause he’s got nowhere else to go. You’re at rock bottom and you think you’re going somewhere with this fighting bullshit, but you’re not. You’re a nothing and you’ll always be a nothing.”
Okay. Maybe he does know me.“Fuck you. It’s easy to judge others when you’re sitting pretty in your office. You’ve probably never had to struggle a day in your life.”
The man walks me backward until I’m against the wall. “You think you’re the only one who’s had a shitty life? The only one whose mama didn’t love him or his daddy left? Get your head out of your ass, kid.”
I place my hands on his blocky shoulders and push, but the man doesn’t budge. I falter backward and my head hits the wall.
“Now you listen here. If you want to go anywhere in life and make something of yourself, the first thing you need to do is get rid of that shit in your pocket.” His voice lowers. “Nobody ever succeeds doing that.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I love my life. I don’t need anybody telling me what to do.”
“Is that so?” He smirks. “Why didn’t you take these two back to your place? Would’ve been a lot more comfortable in your own bed.”
I avert my eyes to the twins still asleep on the couch.
“Exactly.” He walks away and relaxes back in his chair. He turns on his computer, slipping a small pair of glasses onto the bridge of his nose.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, turning for the door.
“The only person you’re fucking here is yourself, kid.”
I spin around. “Life fucked me. I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t do anything to deserve this. I’m doing the best I can to make the most out of what I’ve got.”
“If this is your best, I’d hate to see you at your worst.”
My arms spread wide. “What the fuck do you suggest I do, oh wise one? Tell me. I’d love to hear your perfect solution.”
“Step one is admitting you have a problem.”
I laugh. “You’re going to put me on some NA steps? That’s your solution? Thanks, but no thanks.” I turn to leave again.
“I could just call the cops, if you’d prefer.”
My body stills in the doorway.
“The drugs and trespassing charges should be enough, but they’ll really throw the book at you for participating in illegal gambling at an underground fighting ring.”
How does he know about the fighting?
“Then again, maybe you want to go to jail. At least you’d have a bed and three meals a day.” He gestures to the twins. “But they don’t have that in jail.”
“Fine. You want me to admit I have a problem? I love heroin. There. I said it.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not admitting to your problem.”
I run my fingers through my hair and let out a puff of air. “I’m addicted to heroin. Are we done now? Can I leave?”
Rocking back in his chair, he folds his arms over his chest and smiles. “You can’t leave yet. We’re just getting started.”