Battle Scars

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Silas

"i don't like being told what to do."

• • • • •

My engine roars to life as I hold down the choke and turn the key inside the ignition. The rumble of the engine hammering in my ears and throughout my body, making me feel more alive in the split second it takes for me to leave the parking lot.

Turning onto the highway I zoom down the road, enjoying the feel of the wind as it whips past me.

I haven't felt this alive in months. The familiar feel of my motorbike had almost been a foreign thing to me when I had first road it out here.

Ever since my fight against Reed Attwell I haven't been able to do anything physically dangerous or exhilarating. The fucker gave me a god damn concussion in the second round, leaving me to sit out of fights for the last two months.

I at least got to beat his ass before I completely blacked out and lost my title. I couldn't let a sleaze like him take it away from me that easily.

Trees pass by in a blur as I race down the highway. I was heading back home from Washington D.C. where I was helping out Corey Branson, an old friend of mine, with a few fights he had been hosting. I haven't been back home in New York for about a week now and was starting to miss it.

I was dreading the four hour ride ahead of me, but thoughts of my upcoming fight kept me on the road. I wouldn't be getting back home until later this afternoon, which meant Mason was most likely going to force me out of my house before I even stepped foot in it.

Mason Hills was a good friend of mine and an amazing fighter in the ring. Him and I would be fighting in the national boxing event, this upcoming weekend. Mason would be up against Damian Summers, current middleweight title holder and a good guy as well.

After about three hours on the road I could feel my stomach clenching in hunger. Trenton New Jersey was a quiet city compared to my hometown, it was definitely busy but not in a New York sort of way. I don't think any city could be as hectic as New York was.

Pulling up to a gas station, I park my bike and shut the engine off. I pull my helmet off my head and run my gloved hand through my brown hair, shaking away the mess from my helmet.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice two girls standing by a gas pump and watching me.

One of them has long bright red curly hair. She's wearing a black mini skirt and a crop top while she pumps gas into their Honda. The other has short sleek black hair that reaches her shoulders and a tight red dress wrapped around her body.

They both whisper to each other and glance over at me every now and then, giggling to each other as I reached for my phone in my backpack.

I don't spare them a glance as I unlock my phone and open up my messages, getting at least three from Mason.

Mason: Hey McCoy. When you getting back to the city?

Mason: Dude.

Mason: You gotta come down to the gym one of these days man. Milos fucking hungover right now.