I'd Kill You First: when bad meets bad

Chap. 3

KEENON:

"You what?! I can't believe you!"

Toby backed up from me with his hands up, giving me a nervous but determined look. "Look man, you need a place to stay, it's somewhere people shouldn't know you, you can be at peace, and it's a nice place. I just thought-"

"You thought it'd be a great day to get your neck snapped?" I growled, stepping closer to him. "I never asked for your help, Toby! I don't want a roommate, I'd rather live under a crappy bridge with a hobo family!"

He tugged at his sandy blonde hair in distress and looked back at me with pleading eyes. "Dude, she really screwed with you, I just thought you wouldn't want to stay there after...you know..."

"No, say it," I spat, glaring at him as he slunk back a bit. "After what, Toby? Huh?"

"Come on, Keenon, I just wanted to help. You haven't been the same since she left you for your own brother! I can't stand to just sit around and watch you kill yourself over it! Please take the apartment. The girl there hates people like-"

"A girl? What the hell, man!" I yelled, slamming a fist against the counter of Toby's small apartment kitchen.

"Keenon, you can't stay here, and you won't go back to stay with Andrea, for obvious reasons, so you need a new place to get yourself together. This is what you need."

"I don't need anything," I rumbled, clenching every muscle in my body. "I'm fine."

Toby sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Look, as a personal favor to me, please just stay for one month. Just one, and if you hate it, I'll help you find a one person apartment. I just really think it would be better if you tried living with someone again that isn't Andrea before you condemn yourself to always living alone."

I growled and tugged at my hair but didn't say anything, just nodded twice in a terse way and stormed out the door.

"Be back here at three! You have to pack!" Toby yelled after me.

I put my headphones in and blasted Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons as I started my midday jog, gradually building speed until I was running through my neighborhood. I loved running, it seemed to make all the problems of the world fall away for just a moment while I ran faster than my fears and kicked dust up in their faces, free to be numb for as long as I could go.

My thoughts turned to Andrea and Scott, my older brother. It hurt like no one's business every time their bodies all entangled in my bed flashed into my mind. Her body, meant to be meshed with mine, plastered against his. They had chosen each other over me, pushed me out, used me to have the other, and when their secret was out, they didn't even apologize. It felt like I had been the fool all along, even some of my friends knowing about it. It hurt like hell.

My blasting music helped me tune out everything around me as I blindly turned into the street to cross and was suddenly knocked off me feet, only stopping my fall by reaching out for the hood of a black Camaro with windows so dark I couldn't see inside. The driver had obviously slammed on the brakes since I hadn't gone flying, but the jolt made my bones ache and I righted myself and stared dumbly into the black window, only jarred when a horn blared at me to move. No one got out to check on me or anything. I let out a cold laugh as the car sped away, probably looking absolutely crazy as I just cackled after being hit by a car, but I found it funny. How ironic that literally everything seemed to just run over me without a second thought, not caring if I had the strength to get back up or not.

I resumed my jog after a few minutes, feeling pain in my left side as I went but choosing to ignore it. I jogged all the way to my gym where I flung open metal doors and strolled inside, nodding as everyone turned to look at me with either broad smiles or respectful glances.

"Keenon, get your ass over here! You're late!"

I looked up at my trainer, Jay, who stood in the middle of a ring with mitts on his hands. He impatiently gestured for me to hurry up, so I put down my phone and earbuds, sliding off my shirt and shoes before stepping into the ring.

"It's about time, you move slower than an old lady dying of breast cancer," Jay grumbled, holding up his mitts.

I chuckled despite myself and starting bumping his mitts in warm up hits. "That was a terrible comparison," I said, bringing my fists up to my face in a guard as he swung the mitt over my head.

"Not as terrible as comparing my grandmother to a burned plastic bowl. Both have jacked up wrinkles, and both get shoved to the back of the cupboard," he said with a shrug.

"You are a terrible person," I muttered, hitting the mitt a little harder.

"Hey, go grab your gloves if you're going to start up with real hits. I'm not letting you go without them again."

I scowled but headed over to the side and strapped on black gloves before returning to Jay.

"So tell me about life, Keenon," Jay called to me, making a jab at me at the same time.

Jay talked to me, made me converse with him, to make me get used to focusing on just the fight while other things were going on to distract me. In the ring, flashes and cheers and the other fighter talking can get distracting, especially for me with bad ADD. Even now I had to strain to meet his jabs as I thought over my answer.

"I apparently have a new roommate. Toby got it worked out behind my back," I said, swiftly moving in and out quite easily, circling Jay.

"And he's still alive?" Jay asked with raised brows.

I shrugged. "For now."