Road Trip With The Bad Boy

Chapter Three: The One With A Fight Club

Song suggestion: Clouds by One Direction

2153 words

I sigh, looking at Dean. His gentle green eyes are looking back at me expectantly.
"When I was born, life was good for my parents. They were happy, I was happy, and everything was fine. We lived in a small apartment not very far from Broadway. Life went downhill whenever my dad got hung up in the wrong crowd. He started hanging out with people from the Bitter End as we call it," I stop, looking down at Ralf who was cuddled into me.
"He started getting into drugs and whenever he got drugs for himself, he got a bunch to sell in return. Dad was smart enough to cover it up. He would usually use me to deliver the drugs, because who would question a three year old girl walking to someone willingly? But then Dad's dealers got more demanding, wanting him to sell more. So he had the bright idea of building an illegal fight club," I stop, feeling the tears pool in my eyes.
I take a deep breath before continuing, "Mom and I had to work around there too. Dad made me and Mom be a kind of nurse replacements. We would doctor the guy's wounds after the fights, but one day, a guy decided that Mom was a good punching bag after he lost...," I was full on sobbing now.
"I-it took three of the biggest guys there to drag him off of her. There was no way to save her though, her h-head was basically bashed i-in. I was four. After that, Dad simply burned h-her body and continued his fight club. I was now the only one working as the "nurse." A four and a half year old girl, nursing a bunch of druggy fighters that were hopped up on God knows what," I say, tears are now running furiously down my cheeks.
"No one m-messed with m-me until I was five. This g-guy was mad at me, because I hurt him whenever I cleaned a c-cut on his head. B-before I could understand what was happening, he was pinning me on the g-ground, hitting me. After that, Dad paid a different nurse to actually doctor the fighters, but my new j-job was to bring water to the fighters," I stutter through my story, I'm doing better than I thought I would do though...
"After three years, I-I was finally old enough to understand that what was going on wasn't right, I got a hold on my dad's phone and called 911. When the police showed, my dad got mad at me, took me t-to the ring and decided that if he couldn't run his drug franchise then I couldn't l-live. He grabbed his newest fighter, and told him to beat me until I was dead," I stop talking to take a deep breath, trying, yet failing to steady my breathing.
"Antonio Nauverez Abrantez, was his name. He just looked back from me to my d-dad. He suddenly lunged at the guy who made my life a living Tartarus. P-punch after punch, he lent on my father. I-it took half of the SWAT team to get him off of my dad," I close my eyes.
"Dad died at 8:30 that night, and Antonio was sentenced life for man slaughter. Th-the whole thing was shut down, I was put in the system at eight and a half years old, didn't get a foster home 'till I was nine. The Andersons, the only f-family that I know," when I'm done, I just sit there sobbing.
I'm startled when Dean's arms wrap around me. "I'm sorry, I-I had no clue," he whispers while pulling me close to him. I nuzzle into the crook of his neck, crying.
Once I'm finally calmed down enough, I continue, "They gave me a tag, like what you h-have." My voice is muffled by his shirt.
"Do you still have it?" Dean asks me gently. I nod, pulling back from his hug. After rummaging through my closet for a bit, I find the box that I hid a few years ago. After I hand it to him, I sit on the edge of my bed.
"Do you have scars?" Dean asks after studying my necklace like I did at school.
I nod, "Y-yeah." I pull my shirt off like he did, leaving me in just my blue sports bra and face away from him.
I know exactly where my scars are, I used to study them in the mirror after my showers. As soon as Dean's finger tips run over one of them, I close my eyes. Tears are still running down my cheeks, but not as bad.
"Nicole, c-can I stay over?" Dean asks me, his voice gentle. I nod just as a question pops into my head.
I turn to face Dean, "D-do you ever have nightmares?"
His face focuses on my face, "Yeah, all the time."
I nod and lean into him, "Then you'll be okay if I ask you to stay with me?"
He seems puzzled by my question, "What do you mean?"
"Can you stay in this bed with me tonight? Kind of chase my nightmares off?" I ask, but then shake my head, "N-no, that's silly, you can sleep in the guest bedroom, or wherever-" I'm cut off by Dean.
"I'll stay with you, but only if you want me to," he says, his eyes searching my face.
I nod, "I-I want you to."
"Okay then, Love, I'll leave you to get ready for bed," Dean says getting up. I quickly get dressed in a t-shirt and shorts.
When I'm done, I walk down the hall to find Dean, but he's not there. "D-Dean?" I ask into the darkness. How long have we been in there talking?
No one answers me, that leaves me standing in the dark hall, alone. I shutter. "You're being silly Nicole, nobody's in here, just you, Dean, and the dog," I think in my head.
Someone's arms suddenly wrap around my waist. I tense up immediately.
"It's okay, Love, just me," Dean's warm breath hits my neck. I melt into his body and let him hold me like that for a while.
"Let's go to bed," I say standing up. I see his head nod and we walk back down the hall, to my room.
"Do you have sweats that I could wear or something?" Dean asks after I turn the lights on in my room.
"Uh, yeah. Just come with me," I say grabbing his wrist and walking across the hall and to Peter's room.
After going through all of his clothes, I finally find his stash of sweats that he keeps hidden.
"Aha, now I know where to find these," I laugh. I have an addiction to wearing Peter's clothes, especially sweats.
"Thanks."
"No problem," I walk off to my room, leaving Dean to get dressed.
After a few minutes, Dean walks in. Shirtless. He holds his white t-shirt in his hands along with the jeans that he was wearing today.
I nod my head and climb into bed, facing my wall. The bed dips a little as Dean climbs in, wrapping his arm slowly around me, pulling me into his chest. I hug my pillow as a feeling of safety washes over me, making me realize just how tired I was.
Just as I'm about to sleep, Peter opens the door, "Nicole did you steal a pair of my sweats?"
When did he get home. Letting out a groan, I turn around, my face is centimeters away from Dean's. I suck my breath in at our proximity.
"Y-yeah, I just got cold," I finally say.
"Fine, just actually give them back, and don't make me hunt you down at school for them," Peter says before continuing, "'night, Princess."
"'Night," I reply before ducking my head down and nuzzling into the crook of Dean's neck, and fall asleep to him wrapping his arms tighter around me.
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Ding! Ding!
"Fight!" The Ref says, just as the two fighters lunge at each other.
The crowd hollers and chants the two fighters names, as angry betters are grumbling about their losses.
The air smells of sweat, smoke, and drugs. Not a good mix. As I make my way through the crowd, I pass a stumbling guy who smells of some sort of alcohol. I've always hated that smell, Dad smells like it sometimes, but I don't like him when he smells like that, he's always the meanest.
Pushing past two of the fighters, I get through to the back, where Mom and I work. As I walk in, there's a guy sitting in the chair while Mom cleans a cut on his shoulder.
"Hi Mommy!" I say hugging my mom around the waist.
"Hey Sweetheart," she says, continuing her job.
I walk to her supplies table and hand her another wet towel for her out of the pink water.
"Thanks," she says after trading towels with me.
"You're welcome," I smile, walking back to the silver table and dropping the red towel in the pink water and watch as the red from the towel swirls around the pink water, making it an even deeper shade of pink. I wonder what Mom puts in them to make them do that, because we're not aloud to give the fighters any ointments...
"Nicole, come out here, I want you to watching this one!" Dad calls from out of the room.
I walk out of our room and is welcomed by Antonio. "Hey there, princesa," the new fighter says handing me a lollipop.
"Thanks, Antonio!" I say jumping up and hugging the sweaty fighter.
"No problem," he says hugging me back.
"Nicole come on!" Dad yells.
"Okay, bye A!" I say while Dad drags me away.
I giggle as Dad lifts me up and sets me on his shoulders. I get a clear view of the ring from here. Two fighters that are known as Lorenzo and Alejandro are fighting. Lorenzo's shorter, but he's built like a pit bull, while Alejandro is built taller and slim.
Alejandro's got a bloody nose and a cut across his forehead while Lorenzo's left eyes is bruised and swollen and his right arm is pressed against his rib cage.
Both fighter's bodies sweaty and moving with every dry heave.
Ding! Ding!
The signal for the end of the round. After about two minutes, I watch as two girls walk around holding up signs with the number two written in red. Telling everyone that it's time for round two.
Both fighters walk back to the center of the ring, looking somewhat refreshed. The circle each other, bouncing in the balls of their feet. Lorenzo presses a punch to Alejandro's face, only to get a mighty punch to the ribs in return.
After a few exchanges, Alejandro punches Lorenzo in the side of the head with a sickening whack. I jump at the belly dropping sound, and watch as Lorenzo falls to the ground in a lifeless heap.
Alejandro raises his fist high in the air, victory.
Where's the victory though, he hurt Lorenzo. The crowd around us goes wild, whooping and hollering. It doesn't make much sense, they're happy because I guy almost got beat to death?
Dad pushes his way through the crowd, making his way to the elevated boxing ring. "Congratulations, Alejandro. Buena pelea, lo hiciste bien," Dad says, speaking in a weird tongue that most people around here seem to know.
"Gracias fue divertido," Alejandro says, shaking Dad's hands. What?
Dad walks with Alejandro through the cheering crowd and to the back rooms as a new fight starts. When we walk into the room, Mom's pushed against the wall and Jorge is punching her over and over in the face, while her body is limp.
I don't get it, is Mom a fighter too? Alejandro, Antonio, and a few other fighters rush to pull Jorge off of my mom. Dad just stands there and watches the scene in front of us. I climb down though and rush to my mother.
"Mom!" I shout while shaking her limp body. No, no, no, no, something's not right. The fighters always get up, they hurt but they get up.
"Mom!" I shout again. She'll wake up, sh-she will, she has to.

"Nicole, Love, wake up," Dean says gently shaking me.
Warm tears are running down my cheeks as I sob. Dad's voice shakes through my head, 'she won't wake up, she never will.'
"Shh, it's going to be okay," Dean whispers while pulling me into his arms.
I fall asleep that night, something I never can do after my nightmares. Maybe Dean will be good for me..