The Lonely Hearts Club

Chapter 30: A Bad Idea (Hades)

Freezing water swirls around my body, chilling me to the fucking bone.

I use to hate ice baths, but now I'm pretty used to them.

I hold my raw knuckles under the water—the cold makes them feel better.

I've had ten fights so far, two each day for five days.

In the cage, we're  only allowed to knock each other out, nothing more.

We're not allowed weapons, we're only allowed to use our bodies, but we can hit wherever we want, no rules.

Easy.

I've won every single fight.

I have Jamie Elliot Green to thank for that.

Joey has made me watch the motherfucker kiss Bree so many times, it's burned into my brain.

He's using it as fuel, manipulating my anger and directing it toward my opponents.

I can't even be mad at him for using it against me, because it works.

The thought of him and Bree together pisses me off and I don't know why.

I shouldn't care.

Why do I fucking care?

The last match tonight was pretty hard, but I still won.

I'm fucking glad it's over though, the motherfucker had sharp nails that he used to scratch me.

I lift my hands to my head.

My hair is pretty long, and that's a disadvantage for me. It's easy to grab and rip out, so I like to do two braids to keep it out of grabbing distance.

I take them out and run my fingers through the waves before dunking my head under the water.

It feels like I'm cleaning my brain.

I need to, I can't stop thinking about her.

I think I'm obsessed.

She was in my dream last night.

It was so weird because I never remember my dreams, but I remembered that one.

We were in a white room, just staring at each other, not saying anything.

Fucking weird.

And I don't want to be disrespectful to Bree, but if someone told me I'd have a dream about her, I would have guessed it'd be something related to sex.

I can't deny that she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and physically, she's perfect.

STOP.

When my hands start turning blue, I drag myself out of the bath.

I get the towel.

You know, the pink one I stole from Bree.

I keep washing it and keep reusing it even though I shouldn't.

What I need is some peace and quiet tonight.

I get a break from fighting until Friday, then I have three matches consecutively after each other.

The best I get is a five-minute break between.

Apparently, the stadium is gonna be booked out because word travels real fucking fast.

For some reason, people love seeing others getting bashed.

Maybe people like it because it's not like boxing or regular cage fighting where there are specific rules about where you can and can't hurt.

I mean, I'm in no position to judge.