His Addiction

Chapter 2

Wyatt's Point of View

Fucker

Fucker

That motherfucker

Sweat trickled down his body and arms protested in pain. He resisted the urge to stop as fatigue fought hard against him. Wyatt clenched his jaw to hold in the cry that desperately fought to escape as tears slowly slid down his face.

All he asked for was a simple request but that stupid motherfucker  just could not let him go. His mom was all alone with no one besides her and here he was, training for a stupid tournament that meant absolutely nothing to him. He just wanted to  see his mom. She was all he had left.

Wiping away the sweat and tears, Wyatt inhaled a deep breath as his lungs burned. With one final blow, he threw the bag from the hanger. When he checked, his knuckles were bloody but he just ignored it as Graham walked in, a smug smile on his face.

Fuck you asshole

Graham just smiled and raised an eyebrow at Wyatt, daring him to do something. He knew he couldn't because if Graham let him go, he had nothing but misery left. He could fight, that's what he was good at, nothing else.

"We leave in 30, got that Renzo?" was all Graham said before he disappeared into his office. At 26, Graham owned 2 successful boxing gyms which he started all on his own along with the matches he did himself and was undefeated. Seemed Wyatt was following him along that path.

Since he joined with Graham, he was used as the puppet, never losing, never stopping- until the opponent was unconscious or worse.

As he waited in the locker room to head out after getting ready, he shakily drew out his phone and dialed a familiar number. Three rings later and the person picked up.

"Renny?" a frail voice called out.

He swallowed the lump that seemed to be stuck in his throat, preventing any words from escaping. 

"Ren?" the voice called again.

Lips quivering and eyes burning he answered, "H- hey mom, Happy Birthday."

"Oh Renny, thank you sweetheart. I wish you were here with me but I know you'll do well in your match today."

Each day was a struggle, never knowing if she'll survive the night. Wyatt's mom knew of his extracurricular activities, but it wasn't like she could stop him. She just prayed he remained safe and was careful.

"Thanks ma, make sure and tell Denise to save me some cake okay? I stop by as soon as I can," he muttered, gripping the phone tightly in his hand.

"Of course Renny, and please be safe. We don't want another broken arm," she said referring to when he was a toddler and fell off his bike.

He laughed softly. "No ma'am, we don't."

A fit of coughs could be heard through the phone afterwards and worry encompassed him. A few seconds later and Wyatt's mom replied,

"It's okay Renny, I'm okay." Her voice was breathy and sounded hoarse. Nerves ate away at him as he internally debated what to do. As if she could hear them, his mom then replied,

"Don't you dare young man, it's not worth the trouble you'll have to face with that piccolo demone. I said I'm fine and I meant it. Now hurry along and do what you must. The celebratory cake awaits you."

(little demon)

After a few more words were exchanged, Wyatt hung up just in time as Graham sauntered in and announced their departure. On the ride over to the Rig, wished that something could just take away all the pain and burdens he felt weighed him down.