Don't mess with her

Chapter 22: You in?

"My family was a normal one. Sure we had our upside down moments but we always pulled through. It all went to hell a few years after we moved to New York and my father got a raise. We didn't see him anymore and my mom got more and more depressed. It didn't take a genius to know that their marriage as our family was breaking beyond repair. Everything that happened at home I would bottle it up. I was like fourteen, I didn't know how much trouble that could cause me in the long run. One day a kid tried to bully me but ended up with a black eye and a broken nose and only that because someone pulled us apart. A few guys who were seniors back then took notice of that and told me about street fighting. They told me I would get a lot of money every time I win. I didn't care about that; all I cared about was that I needed some sort of release from everything that was going on." He paused to take a deep breath. I rubbed his hand trying to comfort him and urging him to continue.

"I was so focused on me and how I felt that I completely forgot about my brother. He's two years older than me, so I thought that he was able to handle all this. He always seemed so composed and calm." He scoffed bitterly. "If we only knew back then that how he was 'handling' it would f*cked our lives I would've done something."

"What did he do that was so awful?" I asked when I saw him hesitate for a moment.

"He was doing drugs. While he could afford it, everything was fine. When he ran out of money and things to sell he began to steal. He was in and out of jail constantly. My parents began to ran out of money to bail him out and by then their marriage was f*cked up so my dad decided to move out. He left but told us that we could move with him. I decided to stay and help mom. I kept getting better as a fighter but everything that I won would either go to pay our bills or my brother's addiction. My mother had enough and made him decide between the drugs or his family. He decided to go to rehab but after a few weeks he dropped out and went back to the same sh*t. My father decided to take matters into his own hands and made him come live with him; his ultimatum was different to my mother's. It was either rehab or jail. He was not going to let anyone bail him anymore. So my mother asked me to watch him and keep him out of trouble so he wouldn't wind up in jail." A lot of pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but there were some that still hadn't. Who is the one leaving notes in my room?

"There's still something I don't get. Why are you in danger? Who is threatening you?"

"My brother owes money to some dangerous and powerful people. Those thugs in New York have other gangs here who are still unto us. I decided to go back to street fighting because I have to help my brother. He's doing so well in rehab; he's almost done with his therapy." He looked so helpless that I wanted to hug him and never let him go.

"So you are wining all that money to pay up his debt?"

"Yes, but they can get very impatient. I've noticed that sometimes they follow me but they won't kill me because they know I always pay up. Still they don't trust anyone. When you received that note, it was meant for me to know that they are following you too. But they know better than to mess with my girl." I snapped my head to look at him. His eyes were filled with sincerity and determination. My heart began to beat rapidly. He raised his hand and tucked a loose strand behind my ear. His hand lingered there for a few seconds until he began to trace his fingertips along my jaw. He reached my chin and raised it. "You are so beautiful." He whispered softly and kissed me.

His kiss was soft and tender nothing like before. It was like he was making me feel through the kiss how he felt. It was exhilarating and at the same time frightening. I was scared that I would fall for him. That would really make me vulnerable.

I pulled out of the kiss and rested my forehead on his.

"Aren't you going to run away from me?" He asked truthfully tilting his head.