Good Intentions

Ch44: Boxing

Okay so first, this is short... but it's what everyone has been waiting for with Owen. 

This may piss a lot of you off, so I am sorry about that. But it is necessary for my story. And honestly... it needed to happen. For several reasons. If you read it all, and feel like you don't understand why it needed to happen, feel free to message me and I will share my reasoning. 

Hope you enjoy, even it makes you a bit mad. 

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Owen POV

Eyes stinging from the sweat dripping into them, I continued to strike the bag with all of my strength. I wanted to to feel the impact of every hit on my fists, but I had to wear gloves because of my position at the school. I couldn't show up with my knuckles bruised and bloody. God only know's what Hendricks would do with that. 

I gritted my teeth against the burn of my muscles. I couldn't stop yet. I would beat the hell out of this bag until I could forget the look in her eyes when I snapped at her. The dullness of the green. The blankness of her expression. The tension in her body. I needed to forget it. 

"Time." Mr. Ravenstahl called from the other side of the bag. But I didn't stop. I wouldn't stop. Blow after blow. I was panting through my teeth, exhaling harshly with each hit. "Owen, I said time!" He shouted a little louder. Still, I kept going. Kept punching. After mumbling something in Russian under his breath, he let go of the bag and stepped aside, well out of the way. Before I could react my fist hit the bag hard, still expecting the resistance his hold had been offering. Without it, my follow through shot me forward and I stumbled into the bag, barely catching my footing. 

Cursing under my breath, I shot him a withering glare, demanding an explanation. He just smirked at me and shrugged, completely unaffected by the ire in my eyes. 

"I called time. You ignored call. I move." He shrugged again. "You need break. You have been sweating barrels for 45 minutes. Take break." 

"Buckets, Raven. Sweating Buckets." Mr. Weiland called from the ring a few feet away, shaking his head in mild exasperation. Mr. Ravenstahl shot him a confused look. 

"Same."

Mr. Weiland scoffed but continued stretching. "What's eating you, Blackbourne?" Mr. Weiland mumbled what I assume was another grammatical correction, but stayed quiet. I schooled my face and tried to get my breathing back under control as  I reached for my towel.

"Nothing." My tone indicating that I did not intend to answer his questions. Mr. Ravenstahl rolled his eyes, and turned to walk away. 

"Whatever you say, Mr. Black." I gritted my teeth. He never called me the same thing twice, and it wasn't any less infuriating today, than any other day. Why couldn't the men on the Toma team show the proper respect? "You ready to spar Marc?" 

"Yuppp. Get up here and kick my ass so we can go home to Bambi. Axel says she is in a mood." Who was Bambi? 

"What's wrong with little thief?" 

"Dunno. Brandon probably pissed her off." Mr. Ravenstahl grunted, seemingly agreeing with Mr. Weiland's theory. Who were they talking about? Did one of them have a new girlfriend? 

Deciding it was none of my business, I moved over to another heavy bag, and started working on my leg circuit, so that my arms could rest for a set. I still couldn't get the look of her face out of my mind. How could I have been that cruel to her? I knew she had every right to be angry with us. To not want to be around us.  I also had been against the whole surprise party from the moment it had been suggested. In some ways, Miss... Sang. Sang, and I were similar. We were somewhat introverted and didn't like those types of activities. I had tried to tell them she probably wouldn't want a party. Especially a surprise one. But they hadn't wanted to listen. Sometimes, arguing with Mr. Coleman just wasn't worth it. But I had tried again this morning. After everything over the past few days... I knew she wouldn't want to deal with the excitement.