I Killed My Mother 2

Chapter 9

Sunday, 2031/04/09
Home...California

"...and when confonted about the rumors, the MMA star lunged for the paparazzi, attacked him and destroyed his camera."

I stare at the presenter as she spoke about yesterdays incident. I should have known better that to ignore the fact that they would twist everything that happened. I mean, I did hurt him and maybe I broke his camera when it fell to the ground, but I most certainly did not attack him. They are making it sound as if I beat the shit out of him!

Maybe I should have then. Might as well!

I balled my hands into fists as the woman carried on talking about some other nonsense.

Spencer changed the channel besides me and I was about to thank him for that but instead, a rage enhanced groan escaped my throat when footage of me throwing the camera at the pap last night came up. The TV switched off and I sighed deeply before getting up heading upstairs to change in training clothes. After I come back down, I notice that Christian seems to be nowhere. I brushed of the thought and went to Spencer.

"We training today. Let's get going," I said to him. He opened his mouth to try argue but he quickly shut it.

"Yes ma'am." He said, grabbing a water bottle that was placed on the coffee table.

We exited the house and we both decided to jog to the gym as a warm-up and so I can relieve some of the stress attacking my mind right now. I internally scoff at the memory of the reporters words this morning.

"The sun isn't even blazing and you have a cap on?" I tried to make conversation. He didn't reply but pushed me slightly instead.

We jogged some more and when we finally reached the gym, the fact that I was out of shape caught up to me. Noticing this, Spencer laughed at my expense.

"You look like you were just 'attacked'" he put air quotations at the last word. I gave him me best deathly glare knowing he was mocking me.

"Too soon?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

"It hasn't even been half an hour you twat!" I slapped him on his arm.

Chuckling, he unlocked the double doors of the gym that was apparently closed for another week. "Come on before you find a camera to throw in my face."

I decided to ignore his comment and slipped past him deeper into the building. I walked to the far end where my personal favourite punching bag was hung. Spencer quickly followed after retrieving gloves for us. The stupid grin on his face didn't falter. Clearly I was the only one taking shit seriousy around here.

"You still remember?" He more stated than asked, refering to the punching bag.

I took the red gloves he handed and put them on while I nodded absentmindely at his question. I wasn't in the mood to reminisce of the old times. I have a rather huge mess to fix before I can even crack a smile.

"Sorry," he mutters as he notices my mood.

I shake my head in reassurance and began to slowly punch at the bag hanging from the ceiling, adjusting to the actions. My wrists were still sore from  yesterday but I ignorned the barely noticable pain residing there.

"So uhh. What's to to be done with this situation Kat?"

"Im still thinking of a solution," I said as I punched harder and faster. "Right now we just avoid the media at all costs-"

I paused at my words. "Don't even think of making a joke about it or I'll miss the bag."

He scoffed. "You seem to forget who trained you everything you know."