Bridge Jump (rewrite)

Chapter Twenty: Quit

Lindsey sighed as she tended to Austin's new injuries, they weren't as bad as the fight he lost. It's been a few weeks since the, this time he'd managed to only get some minor cuts and scrapes with a few bruises, nothing running deep. She aggressively chewed at her lips, she hated it, hated seeming like this. All this stress of worrying about him wasn't helping her attempted recovery. She's noticed the weight she'd gained dropping off of her, her hair getting brittle, her eyes and cheeks beginning to appear sunken. She only ate when Austin was there eating with her, which was barely once a day. Austin lied in bed, one of his cheeks were red and swollen. She pressed the cold compact to it, a hiss leaving Austin's lips. She was tempted to tell him to quit, tell him fighting wasn't that important, that they can survive without it. She knew he had enough in savings to pay off the debt his currently jailed father owed. She tucked her long hair behind her ear resting back, her butt on the heels of her foot.

"Austin, why do you do this?" She asked she had to know. Was it really the debt.

"My dad owes that money, and if it's not constantly being paid back, they take Dahli." Austin whispered, "I promise baby, I've almost paid everything off."

Lindsey sat quietly, waiting for Austin to look her in her eye. He was keeping something to himself. She wondered if she should push him or not. She then wondered if she should tell him she's going back home, that she had priorities to attend to, that she couldn't sit around playing house with him. Austin glanced over at her, his eyes going from her eyes to her lips to her neck back to her eyes. She was getting thin, it already knew it was his fault. He also knew he was lying about the fighting, the debt was already paid on the day he lost. He had told the big guy to bet against him, told him he wasn't gonna win, told him all the winnings was his thus paying off the debt entirely. He felt bad, but he needed the fights. Craved them even. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the fact he could make 10,000 a fight. Maybe it was because fighting was the only thing he was good at. Before his mother died he was an up and coming fighter, after his mother died, before his father truly spiraled into his shittier self Austin was making a name for himself in the boxing MMA world. His whole life, the only thing that was a constant was that Austin knew how to fight and was good at it. The school thing was never his strong suit, he understood and he passed with decent grades, He was a shitty socializer, shit he was surprised his grandparents even let him work the kitchen. He exhaled, removing the cold compress that Lindsey was pressing to his cheek before turning in bed and settling to sleep.

Lindsey frowned, then blurted, "I'm going home Austin."

Austin turned to her, his brows knit together, "why?" He asked, his hand reaching up and caressing her cheek,

"Because Austin, I need too." Lindsey sighed, "I don't know, I just can't sit here and play house like I don't have responsibilities."

"Is that what this is?" Austin's voice was low, anger flashing in his eyes, " is this just a game of house to you?"

"Austin, that's not fair! That's not what I meant." She exasperated, removing Austin's hand from her face "you always fucking do that, twist my words around make me feel like shit."

"I didn't twist anything, I repeated what you just fucking said and asked a fucking question." Austin was now sitting up, his hot-headed temper a shooting up at the accusation.

"GFY" Lindsey scoffed standing from the bed and picking up her already packed bag

"Back at you." Austin replied following hot in her tail the the front door, "oh and Lindsey, key."

Lindsey turned to his outstretched hand. She scrunched up her face in anger, tears threatened to  fall as she ruffled around her purse pulling out Austin's house keys she ignored his waiting hand and threw it at him stomping down the steps of the porch into the dark cold Brooklyn streets.

Austin made his way back to his room, his eyes welling with tears as he ripped things from their perch, a scream ripped from his lungs. He dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands.

"You always do this," He sobbed, hitting his fist against the ground. " you fucking bitch."

———

Lindsey wiped her silent tears as she walked across the bridge, she stopped looking out at the cityscape before her. It must have looked breathtakingly beautiful to someone who didn't live there.