Chapter 39
Shooter
Days were passing by, and more and more, I started to believe that nothing was going to stand in my way of winning. Between patrolling the streets, taking care of club business, and spending an ungodly amount of hours in the gym, the hard work hopefully would pay off.
Flashbacks of the last fight would play in my head.
I was trapped in that memory. I could feel everything from that day, my heart racing in my chest, the blood pumping in my veins, my mind racing to figure out how to take my opponent down.
I unleashed the anger that had been pent up for so long, but I didn’t realize that I was blind to all that was around me.
“Come on, try your last combo again, your timing is off,” Hank commanded as his hands went up in position for my combination.
I had less than two weeks to get my shit together. The more I realized that I wasn’t perfecting different combinations or I underestimated certain fighters that helped me out, I started second guessing. I was feeling like I was back in my rookie season, fresh out of the locker room.
I grunted and pushed through the combination, my body feeling like it was on the brink of exhaustion.
I could hear Hound now riding my chain, telling me I was overdoing it.
Every throw to the mitt reverberated through my body.
Every muscle screamed for a break, but I couldn’t do that, not with everything at stake.
“Alright, kid, take a break.” Hank unvelcroed this mitt.
I shook my head. “No. A few more rounds.” I raised my gloved hand.
“Forget it. Five minutes ain’t gonna kill you. Jesus, you’re worse than the rookies. You’re doing fine.”
“I don’t think I am.”
“Then get out of your damn head. You’re smart enough to know by now that it takes enough work and strength for this.” He raised a hand to my shoulder. “So when I say take a break, take a fucking break,” he growled out.
I huffed but decided not to fight with him.
My head was in a million different places.
The fight. Upholding the image of the club.
Fuck even Amelia and her working so damn much.
She was the one that needed the break, her dark circles were coming back, those bright eyes of hers felt like they were dimming.
She’d been eating less, sleeping little.
My phone dinged from the corner, seeing that there was an email awaiting me. When I opened it, I saw a little light at the end of this dark tunnel. At least, a step in Amelia and my future.
A house. A house that Amelia had dreamed about, everything she had said in those woods. Maybe not everything, but one I know she could picture herself creating a life for us in it. I was going to surprise her once the chaos settled and we weren’t looking over our shoulders.
I could see her barefoot in the kitchen with a ring on her hand, snacking on whatever her little heart had desired.
A small dog, or maybe a big one that would be under our feet.
Maybe a little one sleeping through their nap.
Amelia dancing around as if no one was watching.
Maybe even my girl waiting for me in bed, waiting for me to wake her up again, asking me to fill her with my cum.
The more I thought about it, the more it was impossible for my hard on to calm the fuck down.
With one click of a button, I sent in my agreement and waited until I could get the keys.
“Hey, boss,” a voice called me.
I turned to see a pieced-together Dillon, who should have been in bed at the clubhouse.
Ever since he was released, Hound Dog gave him a room that he shared with Blaze for the time being.
Once Hound Dog heard, and maybe with a little encouragement from his lady, Dillon was given a home until he could figure out what was next.
“I believe the doctor’s orders were for you to be resting, not up and moving.” I smiled, walking towards him.
“They also said that I needed to at least walk and move,” he fought back.
“What’re you doing here, kid?”
“Needed to come back to the gym. I’m going stir crazy and my dad has been blowing up my phone.”
“He can fuck off.”
“You want to tell him that?” He chuckled.
“Seriously, what are you doing here?”
He dropped his gaze, then looked around the gym. “This has been a safe space for me. A place to express anger, happiness, joy, even sadness. You give everything you do here. I don’t know, maybe I just feel lost.”
“Yeah, I have a place like that.”
“Maybe I was driven by guilt.”
“Not this shit again, Dillon. It’s not your fault. Drop it,” I urged him. Keeping any kind of guilt is a recipe for self-destruction, whatever that looks like for people.
“Maybe I can help you?” he asked, more like offering.
I scoffed. “Help me? Junior, you ain’t at the level I am.” I almost laughed.
“Yeah, I think I could help you. You know the last time we squared off, you landed in the emergency room,” he gloated.
“Oh. Go ahead and rub salt in that wound.” I gently shoved him.
He grinned. It was good to see him on his feet, moving around.
I’d love to see him back in the ring, but with nerve damage, we weren’t sure how that would happen.
Amelia said to not give up hope. I wanted to believe that, but I’d seen injuries like that and how people recovered, some were never the same.
“Help me during the next round of sparring, and we’ll go from there.”
He nodded as Hank called me back to the ring. Dillon stood by the corner, waiting for the sparring to begin. I needed this. I needed to know that everything would play out just fine.
Rico, one of the advanced fighters we had at the gym, approached the other side of the ring, getting instruction from Hank.
Rico had been an equal match in size, weight, and agility. The only thing that differed was age, he was way younger than me, his recovery time was better.
“Do you even know who you’re fighting?” Dillon asked from the side.
“No idea, but I’m not taking chances. Knowing what we know about your fight, there is no direct way to prepare. They’ll fight dirty. But they underestimated one thing, kid,” I said finishing putting my gloves on.
“What’s that?”
“Size doesn’t scare me,” I said, putting in the mouth guard.
A bell rang from the other side, signaling us to begin.
I bounced on my toes, waiting to see if Rico would play defense or offense first. I felt the heat of everyone’s eyes on me, watching to see if I was the fighter I was deemed to be.
That’s the one thing about me, I lived up to my reputation, the killer, the one that thirsted for blood, the vengeful one.
Rico inched closer, swaying from side to side, finding his opening to strike. He playfully jabbed my shoulder, poking the bear anticipating that I’d lunge for him to start my own attack. I tried to stay calm.
“You gonna just dance?” I taunted.
Rico didn’t show any expression but determination.
Before I could retort another chirp, he strikes me, throwing a punch to my unguarded side, repeating it before throwing a surprise hit to my stomach, making me hunch over.
It took the air out of my lungs for a second.
He backed off respectfully, allowing me to find the air back into my lungs.
“I told you not to get cocky,” Hank snipped from the side.
“I realize that,” I grunted out. “Fuck.”
“Again,” Hank commanded.
I shook it off, finding myself back into the headspace I needed. Thoughts ran through, the remnants of voices talking about the risks of fighting, Amelia’s worries, and De Santo saying Amelia’s name on his lips. This was the fuel for my mind to get lost in what I was doing.
Over and over again, every hit, every advance was followed by the voices in my head.
They guided me and followed blindly. My blood was fired up, surging through my veins like electricity.
Rico didn’t let up on the attacks either.
He had knocked me down, my back colliding with the ground.
A roar surged through me like a war cry before I pinned him in the corner giving all I could behind every combination I could pull out.
I kept ramming my punches, all the strength I could give, the monster inside of me roared, taking over in that moment.
Arms pulled me away, two figures dragging me to the corner. I yelled, trying to break free like a caged animal.
My name filled the air, a siren call breaking a spell. “Come back.”
My chest heaved with hungry breath. I was lost. I needed a way to come back.
“Come back, sugar, please,” that voice called again, pulling me out of the fog that surrounded me. “I know you hear me.”
Yeah, I heard her. Why is it always the beauty that calms the beast?
“Let me see him,” she called from behind.
As if heaven opened its gates for me the only time, a beautiful angel appeared again, rescuing me.
She had a good habit of doing that. I noticed her little freckles on her left cheek that spread across to her other side.
They were lighter, but when you could see the perfection up close, I knew it was her.
“Either you got him to shut up or…” she tried to tease. A small smile appeared on her face, seeing my eyes focus on her. “There he is.”
I slunk down at the corner, she followed me down to the mat. “Well, it looks like your pupils are returning to normal. Can you say something so I know your other brain functions are normal?”
I licked my lips. “Gimme a kiss, peaches.”
“Yep, he’s okay.” She leaned over, grounded on all fours, her lips hovered over mine.
Her warm scent filled my senses, bringing me back to reality.
She was real, I could reach out and touch her.
Amelia’s soft lips seared onto mine, capturing me into a daydream worthy kiss.
“Can you be a good boy while I go check out the other guy?” Her eyes darted over her shoulder.
I glanced to see Rico slumped over. I nodded as she dashed to the other side, performing a check on her.
I blacked out again, lost control of my senses, my body.
Exactly what happened the last time I fought in the ring.
The reason why I couldn’t step back into the ring.
It was one thing for me to unleash the urge when it was club business and retaliation.
But it was another when it came to fighting in the ring.
Amelia nodded at Hank as a couple other people got him on his feet. I needed to apologize, I needed to take a break. Or something.
Amelia spoke with Hank through the ropes, they kept glancing over at me. The sheer disappointment in their eyes combined with the worry.
“What the hell was that?” Dillon asked, trying to get into the ring, sitting by me.
“What did you see?” I never really knew what it looked like, more like I was told that it couldn’t happen again.
“Fucking unhinged, I mean it was like you weren’t there. You kept attacking him. There was a snap after you got knocked on your back,” Dillon explained.
His eyes dropped before darting back to me. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“It’s not the first time.”
“When was the last time?”
“Years ago,” I said, trying not to harp on it.
“That’s why you stopped.”
“Yep,” I said, popping the last syllable.
“What’s next?” he asked.
That was a good question, way back then, it was a long fucking road.
I remember locking myself in my room for a week until I could manage to come back to reality.
I was afraid to snap at the brothers. I had dark days, but that time wasn’t the easiest though.
And yet I survived, I made it through and there was someone more worth remembering that it didn’t have to be so lonely.
“Get this under control, and keep going.” I said, trying to stand up, balancing myself. My head felt like it was hit through a wall.
Hank walked over to us, Amelia trailing behind. “You’re done for the day.”
“I kind of figured.”
Hank shook his head. “I mean fucking mean it. A good twenty-four-hour break. Do what you need to do, but we’re not pulling this shit again.”
I nodded, complying without groaning. “How’s Rico?”
“Let’s just say, the birdies were singing to him.” Hank tried to joke.
“I’ll take care of him, Hank. I’ll make sure he’s back to normal. Well, somewhat normal. I don’t know I’m still trying to figure him out.” Amelia shot a wink at me.
“Close up the gym before you leave, I’m taking junior back to the compound.”
Dillon groaned. “Do I have to?”
“Keep acting like that and I’m going to say yes.” Hank gripped Dillon by the shirt, trying to drag him.
“Jesus, fine.” he said, slowly getting out of the ring and moving toward the exit.
Slowly, Dillon was coming back to himself. He still needed to work out his demons. But he was in better hands now.