Chapter 8
Josiah
It’s been two days since the attack on Flames of Hell, and so far, they haven’t figured out that the attack came from us. They probably won’t figure it out if everything continues to go as it should.
I spoon cereal into my mouth. I’m at home for now, which is a little annoying considering I’m only here as a babysitter for our new guest.
I return to the kitchen to refill my bowl with some more cereal, when out of the corner of my eye, as though she’s been summoned by my thoughts, I see a glimpse of red hair.
She comes out of the room, dressed in my shirt, although I doubt she would be happy to know its source.
I raise a brow in surprise. For the past two days, she hasn’t come out of the room. She’s been in bed recovering from her injuries and what seemed to be a fever, although we couldn’t be certain.
It could have been because she had been injured from the kidnapping and explosion; however, the shocking news she’d been delivered after years of nursing hate towards us could’ve also been a factor.
Rueben had been the one taking care of her. I hadn’t really been interested in getting involved in the drama and had stayed on the sidelines, content to simply watch while the others did the speaking.
Despite my reservation, I do think she’s absolutely hot, especially after seeing her body when they got her out of her dirty clothes.
“Help me get these jeans off her,” Rueben says as he tries to get her shirt off. “I think there are injuries on her thighs or something. I see blood on her pants, but no cuts in the fabric.”
Tanner steps up to unbutton the jeans. He slides his hand underneath her as he tries to pull it off. His face is set in concentration, a look that soon turns into a frustrated one when the jeans don’t budge.
“Okay, you know what?”
He walks out of the room and returns with a pair of scissors, tearing into the jeans until he cuts them off her.
Rueben looks at him with disapproval. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Tanner shrugs. “You wanted to get her out of her clothes, right? Well, she’s out.”
“Holy smokes, the legs on her,” he says when he looks her over, his eyes wide in surprise.
Rueben looks down at her as well; however, he says nothing. Instead, he focuses on getting her out of her top, taking the more gentlemanly approach of easing it over her head while trying not to cause her any pain.
“I was right. There’s an injury on her thigh,” Rueben says.
I move closer, curious, although I’m usually not one to end up drooling over a lady. However, even I can’t deny that she’s hot. She’s a tall girl, and judging from the looks of it, all legs.
She’s mesmerizing and completely drool worthy. I look away, clearing my throat softly as I remember whose daughter she is.
Rueben picks up a washcloth and dips it in some cool water, wiping her down methodically, without once looking at her or feeling her up. He also begins to treat her injuries.
“I’d say I’d switch places with you in a heartbeat, but then I’m only going to end up distracted,” Tanner says, grinning as he eyes her.
Rueben levels him with a look of disapproval. “Leave the room if you’re going to be disgusting.”
I laugh, shaking my head at their interaction, although much like Tanner, I’m quite affected by her. Her milky skin contrasts beautifully with the color of her hair that fell out of its bun when Rueben took off her bloody shirt to get a better view of her injuries.
Her gorgeous breasts stand firm on her chest with pink nipples perked up for our view. Everything about her is a work of art. I’ve never been mesmerized by a belly button, but hers deepens into her belly like a tiny well I’d love to drink from.
I want to see all of her, and yet, a part of me feels guilty for the intrusion of privacy. I’ve always preferred my women willing and very much awake.
Rueben cleans her up quickly and looks at Tanner. “Go get the clothes that we got for her to change into.”
“I’ll take the ones she was wearing. I’ll throw them away since they’re so dirty, plus, we need to dispose of anything thing that would tie her to us .”
“How do you feel?” I ask her, trying to distract myself from the memory of her body.
“I have a raging ache in my head. It doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to go away,” she says, clutching her head.
I nod at the table. “Rueben left you some painkillers. You should take them.”
She fills a glass with water and does as I say, placing the cool glass to her head. When she’s done, a soft sigh escapes her full lips.
“There’s breakfast for you if you feel up to it.” I point at the plate of eggs and pancakes.
She takes a whiff before turning to me once again. “Who made it?”
What does it matter? “Rueben.”
“You’re all trying so hard to show me that you’re the good guys, aren’t you?” she says in a mocking voice.
I stare at her blankly as she continues.
“Let me guess, you’re only criminals because of some dark, sad secret and not because you’re just awful people,” she says, tossing her hands up mockingly.
I laugh, annoyed by how set she is to see what she wishes to see. This isn’t some movie where the bad guy always has some story to tell.
“Not me. I'm just evil for no reason,” I start with a smile. “I’m just a beast who was born one. There’s nothing special about me. I grew up in a middle-class family with a working dad and a tired mom.”
I watch as she draws her head back slightly, wearing a confused expression, clearly not having expected that.
“What?”
I scoff nonchalantly and smirk at the images of my childhood flashing in my head.
I was standing over Gibson's body in the school's cafeteria with no atom of remorse whatsoever. I had knocked him down with a single punch after he decided to mess with me. I was only fifteen, but he was slightly older.
The look on Mrs. Perkins' face when she saw Gibson lying motionless was priceless. She was the biology teacher and happened to be his aunt. Mrs. Perkins had always covered up for her bully of a nephew who was hated by most of my peers.
I hated bullies because they were too weak to take on someone their own size, so they chose to oppress those they were stronger than.
I never liked Gibson; he was too proud for a weakling such as himself. For months I'd waited patiently for him to be unfortunate enough to cross my path, and my wait proved not to be in vain.
He was bullying a girl named Cassandra, or was it Samantha? I never really knew which one was her name. I watched him without saying a word until the drink he splashed on her face spilled on my shirt. The stain was nothing to make a big fuss out of, but it was the window I needed.
I smirked and rose to my feet, glaring at him. Gibson arrogantly approached me and asked why I was looking at him. I gave him the chance to apologize, even though I knew he was too proud to do that.
He laughed at my request, and so did his friends.
“I won't ask a second time,” I said.
“Are you threatening me? Do you know what I can…”
He hadn't finished talking when his tooth flew out of his mouth, accompanied by some blood.
My fist had connected with his jawbone, and the impact knocked him down to the ground. His friends didn't even bother to attack me; they ran scared.
Mrs. Perkins screamed in fear as she saw her dear nephew lying on the ground with a bloody mouth.
My parents were called in while I sat in the principal's office, unapologetic about what I had done. When the principal asked me why I did what I did, I simply shrugged.
“The bastard deserved it.”
Mrs. Perkins flamed up, saying that I had no manners and that I was not even remorseful. She ordered me to apologize, but I bluntly refused.
“No,” I said. “I will not.”
She started to rant about how she was going to make sure that I got expelled. I just stared at her, smirking like the devil she thought I was.
When my parents arrived, they apologized and promised that I would be on my best behavior after that day, but the school board wouldn't have it. They held on to the fact that I was a danger to the other students since I could knock out a boy twice my size with only a single blow.
They were right. I was dangerous.
As we drove back home, I sat quietly in the back of the car as my parents deliberated over what to do with me.
They thought I was asleep because of my silence and the way I rested my head.
“What do we do with your son, Howard?” I heard my mom ask.
My father laughed and replied, “Oh, so now he's my son, eh?”
“Howard, he knocked out a boy with a single blow,” she emphasized. “A boy twice his size.”
“It's a good thing, Elizabeth.” My father laughed.
“A good thing?” She couldn't believe her ears. “Don't encourage him, please.” She sighed. “He's been in and out of three schools already, all because he loves to fight.”
I slightly opened my eyes just in time to see her glancing back at me.
“What did we do wrong, Howard? When did he become so evil?”
“Hey, don't talk about our kid like he's some demon, all right?”
“He's scaring me.” She glanced back at me again. “I think there's something wrong with him. It's not just about the fights he constantly gets into. It's about how unapologetic he is, every time.”
“There's nothing wrong with him, Eliza. He's just a little misguided, that's all.”
Mom sighed heavily as she watched my father, who didn't take his eyes off the road.
“I'm tired, Howard.”
“Don't worry. I think I know how we can channel his rage into something more productive.”
My father's plan was to enroll me in a boxing school downtown, and he did.
On my first day, I knocked down three of the opponents that Coach Max asked to brawl with me. And they were all the best in my peer group.
I struck down each of them in the first round; however, the last guy was stronger than the others. Faster. I only beat him down because he got sloppy at one point. He lasted five rounds, which was longer than the others.
“You're strong, Josiah,” Coach Max said to me after training. “But you lack restraint. When your opponent is down, you back off, you don't keep hitting them. That's barbaric.”
“But where’s the fun in that?”
“Fun? This isn’t fun, boy,” he said, cutting me off. “Here we have rules and we abide by those rules. Do you understand?”
I frowned, hating the fact that this was yet another prison like my former school.
“Do you understand me, young man?” he reiterated, and I nodded.
When my father came to pick me up in the evening, he asked, “Do you like it here?”
I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “I'll get bored soon unless they continue to give me worthy opponents.”
My father, who was normally unfazed by my behavior, was suddenly perplexed. He looked like he was starting to be just as confused and worried about me as my mom was.
As time went on, my skills became sharper, and I was getting better by the day. I was a beast, crushing anyone in my path, big or small. I rose to fame quite quickly and was on my way to becoming a big star when things took a different turn.
At twenty-two, Coach Max introduced me to some investors who had been pushing me to become better and were the reason for most of my recent wins.
Things changed swiftly when Coach Max told me that the investors required me to lose the next match, a match I had been preparing for and dreaming about. They wanted me to lose for their own personal interest.
I refused, telling Coach Max that I had been training for this match for months, and winning it was my ticket to stardom, fame, and being among the elite.
He reminded me that these investors had been in the game longer than I had, and that they wouldn't take no for an answer. I told him that I didn't care.
“It's this arrogance that will be the end of you, Josiah,” Coach Max said to me.
“I can't lose, Coach,” I reply. “I simply can’t.”
Coach Max sighed and asked me to come with him. We left the gym and headed to a fancy restaurant where we met with the sponsors, the investors all dressed in suits.
We sat at their table, and I was forced to listen to their political words about the money that could be made from my defeat.
“My career as a professional boxer is tied to my winning this fight,” I said, catching the eyes of the only woman in their midst.
She was casting a flirtatious grin at me, however subtle, and sizing up the muscles threatening to burst out of my suit. She was sexy. Slender, with her red dress revealing the contours of her body. I knew she was older than I was, but still. She was hot. She wasn't even paying attention to the deal, as all her focus was on me.
I tried not to make it so obvious that I was into her, but she was making it seem impossible. I felt her feet gently climbing up my legs from underneath the table between us.
Coach Max noticed the subtle and covert signals. He stole a glance at me with a hidden grin.
“Your career is tied to us, young man,” one of them replied, drawing my attention back to the issue at hand. “You will do as we say.”
I felt rage swelling up inside me, and Coach Max, knowing that I was unstable in the head and could decide to do something very stupid, caught my eyes and signaled me to stay calm.
“You will lose this fight, or else we will make sure you never become a professional boxer. And you can kiss that precious career goodbye. Do you understand?”
I hesitated, controlling my anger by balling my fists in both hands. He was threatening me, and I hated it when people threatened me, when they thought that they had power over me. These men obviously thought that I was a puppet that they could use and control at will. They had no idea.
“Do you understand, Josiah?”
“Yes, sir.” I faked a smile.
The ring was ready, and the crowd was cheering after the announcer had introduced us, the current heavyweight champion and me.
The bell rang and the fight began. The champion was pretty good; he had strong punches and was fast. He fought like the legendary Muhammad Ali, while my moves resembled those of Mike Tyson.
Our fight was intense, with each of us displaying our skills and agility. Neither wanted to back down. I was supposed to give up and be bested in the fourth round, but I refused.
I got back up and increased the intensity of my fighting. My moves were faster than the champion could catch. I'd studied his style during the first three rounds and figured out his weakness.
With a couple of jabs here and there, I weakened his defenses. I threw dangerous punches at his head until he staggered aimlessly.
I could see the annoyance on the investors’ faces as they angrily sat in the front row, warning me with their eyes.
A smirk lined my lips as I dodged a weightless swing and retaliated with an uppercut. The blow was so powerful that blood spewed out of his mouth and he fell backward. His body bounced off the foam as the crowd went crazy, cheering and chanting my name.
The referee counted to ten as the champion's fans hoped that he would get back up. But he never did.
The final bell rang, and I was announced as the winner of the fight. The new champion. As the ring announcer held my hand up with the belt over my shoulder, I stole a glance at the investors as they walked out of the hall in anger.
I knew they would try something to get back at me. They were going to make their move and destroy my career as they had threatened, but I didn't care.
Coach Max asked me to watch my back, warning me that they would definitely come after me but he wasn't sure when, where, or in what form.
“You've sealed your fate, kid,” he'd said to me after the match.
“They came after me all right. Turned out it was a gang in charge of fixing the boxing matches. Coach was powerless when it came to them. They tried to kill me and well…let’s just say I had a lot of fun killing a man for the first time. Just so happened to be Rueben’s rival, and he arrived right in time to find me at the crime scene.”
I watch Amelia’s face go pale, and I grin.
“Rueben picked me up after that. Took me in along with some of the boxers under the guys I killed, who’d been used in fixed matches. I had already entered this world after murdering those guys, so I followed the guy who was strong enough. There’s no sad story, love. I was just born a monster.”
Amelia gulps when I advance towards her. “How’s that for being a good guy with a redemptive story?”
“How are you okay with all that?” she asks in shock.
My smile drops. “I have no excuse for my behavior and I’ve never needed one. I’m quite fine being the way I am.”
I stand very close to her until I can see the vein jumping in her neck and feel the tension in the air.
“Now, eat your fucking breakfast.”
I walk away, and it takes all of my self-control not to look back at her.
Why am I so attracted to her? She’s got a mouth on her and a holier-than-thou attitude I do not care for. It’s been a while since I fucked…could that be it?
“I clearly need to find someone to bed,” I murmur.