Muscled Mafia Love {manxman}

Chapitre Deux.

I forgot to mention, this story takes place way before the Ruthless Mafia, so Zicara and Armando are still alive. Ugh, those bitches. Play song on the side.

Ryan Kelley as the mysterious man, Brad Thorpe

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Muscled Mafia Love: Chapitre Deux

"Mr. Demo, do you think my right hand punches are good?" I felt a hand touch my shoulder from the back and I immediately tensed. Why is he touching me? Why is he touching my back? "Yeah, Misano." I turned around slowly, feeling goosebumps ride upon my whole entire body at the little boy's touch. I could feel the scars beneath his hand start to rise and I winced in pain. Even though the scars have been there for quite some time now, the pain never left.

"I'd say they are." Misano Ogiwara was the first boy who I came to ever teach my levels of boxing. His father Tenzin Ogiwara was the first Asian-American CEO of Markane Corp., stationed in Long Island and he never had time to see his son after he was involved in a heist that left Misano unprotected so I was to teach him how to protect himself.

"Why are you so afraid of my hand, Mr. Demo?" Misano peered into my face with the look of a concerned eight year old boy. "My hand didn't do anything to you." He retracted his hand and I cursed myself for the broken look on his face. "Misano..." I crouched down to his level.

"Don't worry. It's not you that scares me." I stated with a smile smile while trying not to cry. It's me. Those words left unsaid rang true in my mind and I fought the urge not to cry as the long scar on my back began to pulsate, a never ending reminder that it would always be there. Even if I tried to scrub it away, the memory of how it came to be will never, ever leave my mind and I hate myself even more everyday because of it.

If it wasn't for Zicara Kiloway, the little scars on my back would never have gotten there. If it weren't for that stone cold woman, do you think that I would be the pathetic, worthless, scared of my own shadow, suicidal and depressed man that I am today? Do you think that I would be so very afraid to look at myself in my own mirror?

The answer is no but it shows how the hearts and minds of some people can trouble another.

I know these children that I train everyday wonder why I won't let them get near me. I teach them by having them watching me. I never spar with them at all because if I do, I'm never sure of what may happen. I'm never sure if I'll start crying and screaming because sparing with them will remind me of how I used to cower from Zicara.

Just because it was a couple of years ago doesn't mean I can overcome it. It's because of her that I feel so little of myself. I mean, even dirt had a higher level of worth than I did. There was no one to tell what happened and I kept it myself while a part of me died. I couldn't tell my mother because I feared for her safety.

The difference between Zicara and I is that she gets to wake up and smile at a start of a brand new day but when I wake up, my nightmare doesn't end. My nightmare continues day by day and the medicine that I take for my depression never seems to help. How can it, when the pain and the disgust that I feel can never be healed?

But nonetheless, I can't find it in my heart to hate that demeaning daughter of Satan because I actually have a heart and I'm not too fond of negative emotions. I guess, I was just blinded by the idea of love, the idea that I had family that would love me. All my life, I wished to give love and to be loved. I gave my life but I got nothing in return. I guess some people just take your love for granted.

Now, I can't stand the idea of love. I don't expect that I'll get it. I'll continue to give my all and expect nothing in return.

"Now, lets go. Give me a 1, a 2 and a 3!" I clapped at him, watching him run to the punching bag in the ring. The clamor of voices all around me, made me realize that I had a job to teach. It was to make sure these 39 boys and girls knew how to defend themselves, because god knows I don't.