Ryder

Chapter 1

Night time. Heavy raining. The city streets are empty. Cars parked. People probably sleeping since it's almost 02.00. Humid smell all around, covering any kind of dirt the human nose could detect. And one could say it's a peaceful night. Well, almost peaceful.

A specific alley was really noisy. Yelling, cursing. There is a bar next to it. "Raven Shot". Small, and dark. Not the best attraction of the town. And definitely with not the best kind of crowd.

"I'm gonna bust your head open, you fucking piece of shit!"

A middle-aged man was facing him. Early 40s. You could tell from his belly and red cheeks that he loves alcohol. Rage took over him, though. There was no self-control anymore. His fists were up, almost covering his jaw. But his arms were wider than they should be. 

"You hear me? I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

With each word, the rage was getting stronger. The people watching the show wouldn't dare approach him, even though they were worried that the man would end up dead from a heart attack if he didn't calm down.

"Will you shut up and fight already, old man?"

The other man was younger. Probably late 20s. Dark short hair and beard, brown eyes. In better shape than the older man in front of him, but an inexperienced fighter. His face was fully covered in blood. Left eye swollen, nose bleeping. Luckily no need for stitches. But he was tired. Really tired. And he knew that he couldn't escape the situation. It was too late for that.  

"Stop looking at me like a fucking puppy and go for it!", he yelled. He gave one last push to raise his arms near his face. He tightened his fists, although they were hurting like he kept punching a wall repeatedly. The older man kept staring at him with his eyes wide open. He was almost growling at him. He screamed one last time and ran towards him. He was about to punch him with a strong right hook. If that punch landed, the younger man would pass out. No doubt about it, considering the damage his body received so far.However, the younger man was somehow faster, even though he looked tired. He was fast enough to kick him in the groin, with all his remaining strength. 

The older man screamed out of pain, lowering his hands, covering his groin, and going down on his knees. The pain was unbearable, he was already drunk, and there wasn't time to focus again. The younger man took the opportunity and landed that right hook instead. The impact was strong. The facial bones of the older man snapped. His eyes rolled back and he passed out with his face on the ground. Blood started flowing out of his nose and mouth.

"Cheap shot! You coward that was a cheap shot!". The crowd watching the fight wasn't satisfied with the outcome. They yelled at him and started cursing him, his family, and whatever God he was believing in. A woman came out of the crowd, mid-50s, wrinkled face, gray hair in a ponytail. He approached the man laying on the ground and placed her finger near his nose.

"He is breathing", she said while looking at the unconscious man.

The younger man started walking away. Limped the whole way by placing his left hand on the wall in order to regain some balance, and his right arm covered his ribs.

The woman stood up frustrated, looking at the crowd, then looking at the unconscious man again, and then at the man walking away.

"Ryder!", she yelled.

The man stopped walking. Tilted his head to the side.

"Don't you ever come back here! You come back here and I'm gonna kill you myself! One bullet between your eyes! That's the only thing it takes Ryder!"

Ryder smiled, but just for a second. He was in a lot of pain. 

"Fuck you, Janice. I'll see you soon. The next round is on me."

The woman sighed. Her tone suddenly changed. It became lighter. Friendlier.

"Why can't you act like people your age, kid?"

"Cause I'm nothing like them." He looked in front of him and started walking again. Leaving behind that dirty alley and the crooks hanging out there.

Getting into his apartment was another trial. His cracked ribs wouldn't let him take his keys out of his pocket easily. He tried his best not to scream from the pain. His apartment was small but comfortable. He took off his leather jacket, as carefully as possible. Same thing with his boots and clothes. Everything was wet and dripping water all over the wooden floor. He remained naked. The side of his cracked ribs and left quad were bruised. His fists were swollen and slightly bleeding. His face would be a terrible view the next day. 

He walked toward his bedroom. He couldn't believe that he finally managed to reach his bed. The moment he touched the soft covers, his eyes started closing. The weight shifted to the front and his whole body fell on the bed. The covers started having stains from the blood. The sheets started being wet from his body. His eyes were now fully closed, his breath slowed down. He was finally sleeping.

Suddenly, his phone started ringing. It was left inside his jacket. Didn't have the patience to check his pockets for his wallet or phone. He couldn't hear it though, since his energy was drained. The ringing was persisting though. It kept ringing over and over again until a message arrived. The sender's name was Wayne.