Betrayed By You

Ch.39 - Last of Me

When I knocked on his door I knew I was about to pick my last fight. And I had to give it my all. There was no turning back. I was going to go in there, mock him, and tell him if he could really beat me in a fight then we'd have a real fight. Not a sissy fight, not a fight like Demeter would have and not a fight like he normally put up against me. I wanted his full strength fighting me.

And I was hoping more than anything that his full strength would be enough to kill me.

I raised my hand and knocked on his door, hoping to wake him just to piss him off more. If there was one thing he wouldn't want at that moment it was going to be me waking him up and taking him away from his boyfriend. While I waited for him to answer his door I contemplated calling his boyfriend things like boy toy and such, wondering how much that would piss Flint off. He was the one person I could really count on to beat me to a pulp apparently. My brother had been able to fight me and hurt me a little. Maybe if I got his boyfriend involved in it he'd make sure I died. But what would that leave for Flint when I was dead? If his boyfriend helped him kill me would he hate himself for not having done it himself? Would he hate his boyfriend for killing me? Would he hate me for bringing his boyfriend into all of this? I decided to leave those thoughts in my head.

Flint opened his door and stood there, naked. "If I have to wear something then so should you." I sighed.

Flint shrugged, "I really don't give two shits what you think or what you wear. I'm almost never naked and you were trying to go naked all the time which did make some people feel uncomfortable. I didn't like you being naked, but since you're the one who's finally realizing that everything he knew was probably a lie-"

"Fight me."

"What?"

"Fight me. I want your little gay ass to fight me. Once and for all find out who the better fighter is. You or me. No holding back. Period. Do your worst."

"You realize that could mean you dying, right?"

"Maybe that's what I want at this point. Maybe there's nothing left to live for."

We stood there in silence and he walked into the hallway with me. "Look, I'd love to say that there's a lot of life out there to live for you, but I know what your life has been like. You isolated yourself from your own brother and he finally gave up on you so that's not an option. If you wanted to turn your life around then you'd have to start by changing who you are at your core, and I don't think that's an option at this point for you because you've been set in your ways for too many years. I don't know if you really could change who you are now, Devil."

"Devlin. If I'm asking for a fight where I could die, I want the person fighting me to use my actual name. Devlin Carnell."

He nodded. "Devlin Carnell, I accept your challenge. We will fight tonight after Hadley's gone. I'll let him know something came up and if you're lucky it'll only be you and me. I don't want Hadley to watch us fight, especially with what you're asking." He turned around to open his door, but stood there with his hand on the knob, "Do one thing though. While you're waiting."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Get all your affairs in order so I can at least take care of anything that's yours and maybe give your brother some memories of you. Something to show that maybe you cared even the slightest bit. Even if it's only half true. Give him something decent to remember you by."

I nodded and watched as he walked back into his room, locking the door behind him. I stood there for a minute, letting a tear fall down my cheek. Tears aren't for the weak, they're for those of us who think that we're strong by holding it in. Eventually, tears are what come out when we've held all that we can hold inside.

I walked back to my room and waited until that night.

There was a knock on my door and Flint came in, standing there, fists wrapped for a fight. "You ready?"

I nodded and got up. "Papers are all in the folder on my desk. I tried to make sure everything was in order, but I... It's hard."

"Then part of you isn't ready. Pick your fight. I'm not going to let you go out like some weak ass little brat who thinks that just because he did something wrong he needs to die. You're going to pick the fight and you're going to pick it well and you're going to give your all because I'm not going to let you give less than 150 percent. Pick your sorry ass up and meet me down in the ring."

I followed him into the ring, stripping down to just my jeans. No socks, no shoes, no shirt, nothing but my jeans and whatever I happened to have under them. Our fight lasted round after round, blow after blow, and before we were done we had to be careful of where we stepped because there was either blood on the floor or there was sweat.

The last thing I remember was falling to my knees after what seemed like forever. He was breathing harder, but hadn't broken nearly as much of a sweat as I had. Apparently holding back from your full limit is harder on you than letting lose all the power that you have at your disposal. The last thing I remember was saying "Thank you" to him and then just...