Next Generation (Book 4)

Battle Scars

|Vaughn's POV|

I didn't have the energy to get up and follow my dad. I know I'm in trouble. Should I have told them, sure, but I know how they are. Dad already told me no when I started training. Mom would freak out. When we were in Texas, Uncle Mark told me to be smart about it and not do anything to really hurt myself. Uncle Shawn has been warning me about staying in control when I'm in the ring so that I don't hurt myself or my opponent. The list goes on and on. Yet, here I am with fucked up ribs and bruising all because I had to take shit to the next level. I refuse to be a victim. Kyle was the first and last person to get one over on me.

Laying back down, I was scrolling through social media when Murphy came in.

"You lying little bitch," she stated, closing my door.

Here we go.

"Murphy..."

"Why didn't you just tell me the truth? Me out of all people, you know I would've had your back."

"I wasn't really thinking, Murphy."

"Obviously!"

"Hey, mom and dad have yelled at me enough. If you're going to yell too, get out."

She rolled her eyes and sat on the foot of my bed.

"Are you okay?"

I shook my head and lifted my shirt so she could see the damage. She gasped, just like mom did.

"It's not as bad as it looks," I said, pulling my shirt back down.

"Yeah, right. It looks painful. How are you breathing?"

"My breathing is fine, I'm just super sore."

"That's why you sat out yesterday during kickboxing?"

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"I should've known something was wrong."

She stood up and shook her head. There was soon a knock on the door and mom entered.

"Vaughn, come on, get up."

I slowly sat up.

"For what?"

"You're going to the doctor to get checked out. Let's go."

"But..."

She gave me a look that left no room for an argument.

"Murphy, get your work done."

"Um, is it okay if I go over to Ethan's?"

Mom raised her brow.

"I thought you and Ethan broke up?" she questioned.

"We're working through some things," Murphy replied.

"We'll drop you off on the way and pick you up on the way back home."

"Um, okay."

Murphy didn't say anything else as she left my bedroom.

"You need help getting ready?" mom asked.

"No."

She nodded and I got up. Took me a little longer because I was really sore by now. It's like each day the pain was getting worse instead of easing up.

My diagnosis? Fractured ribs and heavy bruising. I was done with training indefinitely until it healed and I got some medicine to help with the pain. Mom said she'd monitor me with it. Whatever.

Getting home, I went and took a shower before getting back in bed. Just as my head hit the pillow, dad came in.

"Hey, I just came to check on you. You need anything?"