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Broken (Reapers Reign, #1)

Page 20

by Maree, Aleisha


  “You can fight the Devil, son, but you’ll never win,” That’s what Jimmy-James told me.

  My answer back to him was, “I am the damn Devil's son.” Snickering at him as I shadow box. Fighting is what I do! Jimmy-James runs this program in here, I found out he co-owns Kingdom Gym and Fight Arena in downtown Brooklyn, not far from where my home used to be. I’ve only ever heard great things about the amazing Jimmy-James, the back-street brawler turned living legend. I have dreamed of fighting out of that gym. That’s what I was working towards before that fright-filled night that woke the demon lying asleep in the dark shadows below the surface of my skin, lying in wait to be unleashed, and God help all that now comes in contact with me now. Men and women alike, for you will never be the same once Knox the Assassin Ambrose lays his hands, or dick, on you.

  They are releasing me into the program full time at the gym. I’ll be living at home on a suspended sentence. My lawyer, along with June and her outreach program, worked their asses off to get me out of here. I sure as shit never made it easy for them.

  How do you cope in a world where you don’t fit? When you reenter it as a different person? You eat, sleep, and breathe vengeance and that vengeance you will have!

  Release day is a shock to my dark system. Two years eight months, that’s how long I was locked away and walking out them gates to the world of normal is a shock. Jamie and the whole crew come and pick me up, taking me home to our side of town. Watching the buildings pass me by, I’m lost out here. Pulling up to Nan and Pa’s, nothing much has changed, a paint job and a new sign is what I notice first.

  Stepping into the home I once shared with my family, the smell of a good old-fashioned Italian meal hits my senses and my tummy instantly rumbles. Nan whirls around the corner, tears already in her eyes as she’s ushering me down to the kitchen and placing food on top of food in front me, as all our friends and family pile in around us, eating, laughing, drinking and saluting my return. Feeling out of place, I slip out to the one and only place I want to be, and that’s with a bottle of cognac, sitting where my angel sleeps.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Present Day – 2016 February.

  Knox

  Training one on one. Day in and day out I train, sweat, adjust to this life out here. I’m walking in the dark, the past scratching at the forefront of my mind, attempting to pull me back down under the wings of misery. Jimmy-James pushes me hard. He heard my story, what had happened, saw me in the darkness of the slot, took a chance on a brawler to make me great. Into a better, darker, faster, meaner Assassin than I am already. He says I have a fire. It burns bright and angry, so thick it can consume all around me in one foul swoop, he says, and I have to find a way to dim it; not put it out, but to take some of the heat off, turn it into the fight needed to be one of the greatest MMA fighters to come from Kingdom! So, he kicks my ass each and every day. I train for six hours a day, five days a week. Most days it ends in me vomiting up in the bin and near passing the fuck out in the shower. And I still sleep each night in the graveyard with my angel.

  My first ever fight as a free man has come up fast. It’s tonight. I spend an hour with Angel before I head back to the gym where Jamie and everyone will be waiting. Nan and Pa will meet us there. I don’t know why she torments her soul watching me fight. She cries just watching me train. Jumping into the back of the van at the gym we roll to the fight night. Walking in down the over brightly lit corridor to my changing room, I walk in and dump my bag. I start to stretch and warm up, sparing with Jamie until Jimmy taps my shoulders and I allow him to push out the knots and relax them while steering me over to the chair. I sit down, breathing in deep, placing my headphones in, listening to Eminem’s Eyes Closed. Jimmy’s taping my hands. This is the first time I’ve had my hands taped by someone other than Sarah-Jane and it seems off and weird. I keep looking down and flexing out my fingers while he tapes to try and get some sort of familiar feeling there, but it never comes.

  Allowing my head to fall back, I close my eyes and zone out as the music fills my soul and I dig deep down to the demon inside, summoning him up from the depths below. Tonight is the night that we unleash him on the world. We’ll prove that we ain’t to be fucked with. Two years, eight months locked up in a cage like a fucking animal. They put me in there and I feel for the mug that is entering the cage with me tonight. I’m going to rip his soul out from inside him and feed it to the demon living inside this dark vessel that has become my body. I will rain down so hard on whoever they put out in the cage with me that they will all soon wish they had chosen different life paths because I’m going to end them all.

  Opening up my eyes, I see that the room is filling up around me, yet I feel so alone, cold and empty, just the way I like it. I am going over the chant in my head, getting my mind ready.

  I fear nobody,

  Can't fear you if you bleed too

  I can no longer hear her voice,

  So I will hear the sound of their

  bones breaking.

  Jamie pulls me from my trance, pulling my headphones from my ears. “‘S’up?” I say to him.

  “It’s time. You ready” he asks, looking deep into my eyes. He just nods. He sees that I am and so is the demon that walks among the dark. Pulling me into his embrace, he pats my back. I look around and find my Nan. I walk over, leaning down to kiss her on the head. I wish she wasn’t here. “I love you. Don’t worry. I can see it all over your face. I was made for this.” I say into her sad eyes. All she does is nod at me.

  “Let’s do this.” I walk out, head down, fists up to the octagon, my music playing, people chanting, women screaming. You can feel the energy burning around you. Once my checks are done, I jump up the steps leading into the octagon. I am so fucking ready for this! I shut my eyes, breathe deep and allow their faces to creep into my mind’s eye for the mug that is about to enter this octagon will wear their faces. I am going to victimize this son of a bitch, punish him and send his soul to the Devil. And here he is, wearing the face of all my anger pain and rage. We pump gloves and I whisper, “God have mercy on you for the Devil’s about to take your soul.”

  Round One

  Ding, ding!

  The punk comes at me full force. I dance with him a little, warming myself up. He’s good. I get in a few nice neat head shots, a couple of great body shots and nice wee roundhouse to top it all off. I am starting to sweat and find my groove when the ten second clap sounds. I let him have a nice wee jab to the jaw to send him to his corner, knowing that it’s about to cut up rough. Play time is over, son.

  Round Two

  As soon as the bell rings I come at him fast. I’m not playing games or fucking playing nice now. Jabbing his jaw with a left and then a right, he steps back onto the ball of his feet as I duck down low. Coming in at his waist, I wrap my arms around him, taking him down to the ground. Spinning around on him, I grab under his hips and pick him up. My fingers are locked in as I flick his body up and over my head into a back to back suplex. Jumping up, I do this four more times. Welcome to suplex city, bitch! Flicking myself back up to my feet fast, I jump right back onto his limp and sweat-soaked body, keeping him grounded. I had him in a nice, across the face lock, keeping my tension taut. He gets his arm free and brings it up to jab me to the side of my head over and over, forcing me to break the hold.

  I spring to my feet, jumping back as he comes at me with a high knee. I bend a little at the knees, bring my weight through to my front foot, push through my core and then come at him with a right jab followed through with a left hook. I want to unleash my full arsenal of combos on this punk, kick, strike, sweep, take down. I can feel the demon, he is coming to the surface. I do my chant over and over, “Can't fear you, you bleed too, break their bones.” Fuck. I’m dazed, dizzy. Stumbling back on my feet, my back hits hard against the cage. What the fuck just happened?

  Boom, the cunt’s right there, striking me hard: one, two, three, hook, jab, hook, jab. I shield my face to see. Damn it, I g
ot caught up in the thoughts of my mind and allowed it to engulf me. This punk managed to take advantage of that. Well played. I feel the warmth of blood trickling down my face and neck. I wipe my glove over my lip. I can taste the metallic tang on my tongue. I see red. I push him back, coming at him hard. Those few punches he got in dazed me long enough to see Angel, feel her in my space. Seeing her sitting on the top of the cage, looking down at me, I grip him around his neck and bring his head down to meet my knee, slamming it hard into it, and with my other foot, I sweep it round the back of his, dropping him to the mat. I jump on him and hit home, seeing all their faces molded into the one face. Along with the last look of terror in her eyes. I punch and punch, feeling the pop of his nose as blood splashes out around his face, down his neck and onto the mat. Another punch, I feel the crack of his jaw, then the smash of a cheekbone through my glove. This fucker is out!

  The ref is pulling me back. “ENOUGH! He’s had it, he’s done. Knox, he’s out.”

  Done, just like that. I can hear my heartbeat in my head. I hear my name called, my team is jumping on me, screaming. I look over. The punk’s still out cold, blood everywhere. Doctors, the team, even the ref, I shake them all off. “Leave me be,” I say, walking over to the cage door. It opens and I head out of it to the sound of them all cheering, screaming my name. I hear the announcer say, “the winner, by way of knockout, is Knox the Assassin Ambrose.” I shrug the hand of Jimmy James off my shoulder, “I want to be left alone, ok?”

  I hear Jamie say to him, “He’ll be fine. Just give him space.”

  “Knox!” Jamie yells out, I stop, keeping my back to him,

  “You have two days then you get your ass back in that cage. I’ll tell them that you need it!” he says.

  “Yeah, Jamie, got it,” I look over my shoulder at him “Thanks, brother.”

  “Knox? Your bike’s out the back and it’s room 204.”

  Giving him a nod, I carry on to the locker room. I kick open the door, I thought I would feel better than this. I thought that this was what I needed to feel myself again. Whole. Normal. How fucking wrong was I?

  Nan sees the pain etched over my face. She stands, wrapping her tiny arms around me as I lean down into her, “Mio figlio. Ci vuole tempo per guarire. Cammina con te. Ricorda che il tuo non solo tornera a casa presto.” Looking into her eyes I see what she sees; me, broken.

  “Perche mi sento cosi rotto e da solo se lei cammina con me,” I push out through my teeth as it breaks me seeing the sadness in her eyes.

  With a kiss to my cheek she just offers me a, “Guarira il bambino che lo fara...” Breathing out, I kiss the top of her head before letting her go and watching her leave. Walking to the small bathroom that sits to the back of the locker room, I stand and look at the empty soul staring back at me with bruises storming and blood spattered over my dark and angry features. Turning, I walk over to the shower and start to rip the tape off my hands. I turn the shower faucet to hot, watch as the steam rises to catch my breath, making it hard to breathe. I want to wash it all away, the pain, hurt and torment. I step into the hot flow of water, hands bracing the wall, head bowed low. Damn that feels good. Water cascades over my body, down my face. I spit it out as it runs into my mouth. If only it could wash away all my sins.

  “I’ve got to find a way to stop seeing your disapproving stare,” I say as I lower myself down onto the shower floor to where she is sitting, all flowing white lace and rosary beads with her wings tucked tightly behind her. She bites that lip, knowing what it does to me, I reach out to pull it free from her teeth just as she releases it. A glint in her eye as a smirk graces those delicious lips. “Damn Angel,” I lean my head back closing my eyes, “You’ll be the death of me, I swear.” As I suck in a deep breath my chest is so tight and I let it all out, “Angel? I can't live without you, you’re the light to my dark, I needed you to stay.” I open my eyes. “Angel, are you there?”

  Gone just like that. Talking to her in my head keeps her alive, fighting brings her back to me even if it is only for a short while. I pull myself up to my feet, wash the night's blood and sweat from my body. I have given up trying to scrub the pain away a long time ago.

  The arena is still buzzing with activity as I leave, heading down the long, brightly lit corridor that leads out back. I’m lost in a world of thoughts of her, of my angel I push the doors open and the night’s cold breeze assaults my skin as I enter out into the dark. I see the glow of a cigarette, with puffs of smoke circling up around a silhouette of what looks like a female. I have had some since my release, I have taken them to dingy hotel rooms, taken them rough, hard, unforgiving, left them there and walked away. I don’t do emotions anymore, soft sensual loving and all that’s in between is a thing of the past.

  I solely fuck now for my own release and gain, not for anything other than that. The girls want it. They like that I’m a fighter so it’s a win, win, and I just leave them to pick up their shattered souls from the floor. Tonight, by the looks of it, will be just the same, if that what this piece of ass leaning against my bike is looking for.

  “Hey, you like what you’re leaning up against there, darling?” I drawl out to her.

  “Oh, this? Well, it’s sexy and all. But not as sexy as you are.” she purs with a wink.

  I shake my head. “Well, I think it’s sexy and, if you don’t mind, turn your ass around and get up off me bike.”

  She steps away and into my space, engulfing me with the smell of cheap perfume to go with her bleached hair – the street lamps lighting it up like a cheap halo. I take a step back as her hands come out to lace around my arms. “Don’t touch me.” I snap. I don’t do touching, feelings, I can’t, I’m dead.

  “Well, what do you do?”

  I snicker, “Not you, sweetheart.”

  “Ouch, the pain,” she says as she places her hand over where her heart must be.

  I flip her off, “I don’t have time for games, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t play them,” she replies, “All I want is to fuck the great Knox Assassin Ambrose.”

  Dropping my head to the side, I rake my eyes up her body. She’s standing there, twisting her hair, offering herself to me but I push her away from my bike. I throw my leg over my bike. I don’t look back, “Room 204 at the hotel two blocks from here. If an ass pounding’s what you want, then be there in an hour,” I kick my bike to life, “Oh, and sweetheart? By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your own name.” Zipping up my jacket, I kick my bike to life and pull away from bleach blonde with a sick, dirty smirk on my face.

  I pull up to the front of the hotel, leave my bike out front for whoever takes them to where ever they go and walk inside, rubbing my hand along my jaw. It’s tender. Tonight that kid sure could pack a punch. He may actually be good, if it wasn’t me he’d been fighting. I mull the fight over in my head as I wait for the elevator to reach me. When, behind me, I hear the hushed whispers of girl’s voices.

  “It is isn’t it?”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “It has to be. I would know that ass anywhere.”

  I smirk as I turn to face them, look them up and down, “evening ladies, can I help you with something?”

  “Err... um... err no,” they say in unison with each other.

  I smile, “As you were then,” I say, just as the doors ping open and we step inside. I stand to the back of them. Nice tight asses they both have on them. We hit my floor and I walk forward, hands out and slap both their asses as I walk through them, “Nighty night ladies,” I tease as I turn and wink at them both, dropping my best pantie dropping grin at their delicate faces. They suck in a sharp breath, smiling and cooing at each other as I walk away, smirking to myself. The effect I have seems laughable at times.

  I unlock my door with the key that was waiting for me at the front desk, and walk into the vast room. God, I fucking hate rooms like this; clean, pristine with an air of luxury about it, like the one Angel and I spent the last of our remar
kable time together. Now life has opened up the demon that sleeps inside and the dingy hotel rooms are where I feel most comfortable. These rooms remind me of the good that died and just how much pain I carry. I throw my bag down on the couch, open it up and grab out the bottle of cognac, I rip off my shirt, kick off my boots, undo the top button of my ripped faded blue jeans ready for tonight’s game with the cheap whore that for sure will rock up for a night of one-sided release. I take a long pull of the bottle, feel the burn of fire it leaves as it slides down the back of my throat, allowing me to relapse back into the numb state that I have become. I sit waiting for the knock on the door. Laying my head back on the couch, I close my eyes, swirling the liquid around my mouth. I open my eyes when I sense something is in front of me and there she is, all her white lace and light, surrounding her beautiful body like a halo of gold.

  Angel. I reach out to touch her, she pushes her fingertips to mine. It’s the lightest of touches, like air. The room smells of rain and apples. It engulfs me. I shut my eyes for a split second, and when I reopen them, just like that she is gone, as fast as she came. All that’s left is the lingering smell of her, of my angel. I shake it off as a knock plays against the hotel room door. Here we go. I’ll ride out all my pain and frustration on bleach blonde.

  “Hey, baby, you ready to party?” she drawls, as I open the door.

  “I’m not your baby, darling, and no partying is going to happen tonight. Just a thrashing and then you leave and we carry on with our lives. Got it?” I snarl.

  Heading over to the bar, I tell her, “Here, get yourself something to drink. I’m just going to change.”

  Walking to the couch, I grab my duffle bag and walk to the room that houses a four-poster bed made up with over the top linen and pillows from Africa. The view is nice and the air in here is crisp from the open door leading out to the deck that hangs over the busy streets below. I walk over and step out standing there alone, white lace flowing in the night’s breeze is my angel. I shut my eyes.

 

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