boxer ⋆ luke hemmings ✔️

13. Protect Her.

He almost ran an elderly couple crossing the street and two businessmen over in his haste to get to the Hood residence. He didn't want to seem too obsessive, but that was what Luke knew he was turning into.

First of all, he needed to know if Sophie was okay. That was his priority. He knew that the bruises on her waist didn't just appear out of thin air. Someone had done that to her, and Luke had apparently run into the guy responsible.

He beat him senseless, thank fucking God. Luke almost scoffed at the thought of letting him go lightly.

He didn't belong in Sophie's neighbourhood, especially not in his rusty pick-up with a back big enough to carry two dead bodies and whatever else could destroy the picture-perfect snapshot of the houses around him. He could practically feel the gazes of the stuck-up waterpolo moms glaring at him from their windows, a glass of expensive wine in their hands and a tight-lipped expression on their faces; sipping, judging, planning to recite Luke's license plate number to the man controlling the gates in order to prohibit him from coming back.

He didn't even know how he managed to get through in the first place. Then again, he had Sophie in his passenger's seat, and all the girl had to do was smile at the security guard and it cleared a future pathway for Luke with no problem.

It was late at night, very late, and Luke was supposed to get in early due to how he had to wake up at five the next morning to train. It wasn't exactly planned, but Jack brought it up and Luke couldn't deny that he missed being in the ring. He'd been slacking off lately, so the impromptu training session would be good for him.

But right now, he couldn't care less about what time he had to wake up. He just had to see Sophie, and figure out whether or not she was okay and whether or not he had a few more people to add to the list of fuckers he wanted dead. Not that 'Morane' wasn't already on there. The scumbag had managed to climb his way to the very top the second Luke heard him talk in such a degrading way towards women.

"Luke," he was surprised once he saw that the person who answered the door wasn't Mali, like it had always been. He was starting to wonder whether the girl spent half of her time waiting for someone to ring the doorbell, anyway, so seeing Joy Hood's face was a nice- albeit uneasy- change. "What are you doing here?"

She didn't mean it spitefully, which Luke was thankful for. He'd had enough shit for one day.

No, she said it with her kind eyebrows raised in surprise, stepping slightly to the side for him to walk in. It wasn't that she didn't want him there- she was just wondering what her son's best friend, whom she hadn't seen in forever, was doing standing on her porch at exactly eleven thirty p.m at night.

Her smile sent him back; way back. He got flashbacks to when Joy would step in for him at school, to when she'd attend his parent-teacher conferences because his own mother couldn't.

He thought of how she persistently tried to take him in once she found out that he'd been fending for himself on the streets at seventeen, and even how she attended his first boxing match with a lot more money than Luke expected placed on the betting table, rooting for him.

The very woman whose profession was a lawyer, whose son attempted to get Corey back for Luke with no hesitation and zero charge on the basis of friendship. The very woman who wanted to pay for Luke to get full custody, only to be turned down politely due to the fact that he wanted to prove to himself that he could be a good enough father to get the money alone.

Yet she was still determined, eager to help him, ready to take Luke on as her client once the trial came and he was ready.