The Crashing of Opposites

Chapter 5

Jett

"He limps on his left leg just a bit." Tyler said from behind as him and Mike followed me to the ring in the middle of the filthy arena filled with screams, shouts, claps coming from hundreds of people.

But all I could focus on is the ringing in my ear, the adrenaline rush in my veins and my next prey. My fists clench and unclench in preparation for their next target standing on the other side of the ring, whose stench of fear reeks even this far away. Just the way I like it. My brain's already analyzing his movements and devising my next strategy.

DING

He advances forward with determination and a tad bit of fear- both a mistake in my opinion. The only feeling there should be is none. You need to be void of emotions, they deter your focus from your true goal in front of you. Your prey.

The shit thinks he has the upperhand when he lands a swift punch on my abdomen, this adds to his ego. Perfect. After a few missed swings, his face contorts into frustration and tiredness settles in. I give him a mocking smile and his eyes widen when he realizes he's fallen right into my trap.

A kick in the left knee and a swing of my fist later, I am the only one left standing. My prey lies unconscious beneath me as I step over him and make my way out of the arena into my private room not waiting for the ring announcer. 

"I think that was the fastest match you've ever had." Tyler said as he enters the room.

"I couldn't even see what you diddddd!!!!" Mike shouted-more like squealed as he followed Tyler.

"Hmm" I reply not really matching their level of enthusiasm.

"Alright then. Our usual spot for celebrating, yes?" They both know boxing for me isn't a want it's more of a need so my lack of excitement is something they're used to. Before I could reply, my phone started ringing.

"Yea Mike. Same place. You guys go first. I'll join you in a bit". 

Both of them give me concerned looks but left after I nodded at them, letting them know this call isn't one of the usual ones that results in all hell breaking loose where their presence is required. Nope not one of those calls, this one is worse.

"Dad?"

"We are having dinner next Monday with the family of my colleague. I want you at the house at 5, no later and no excuses. Understand?" I never do well with people ordering me around. So, the way he's commanding this dinner is making heat rise in my chest and my jaw tick. Nevertheless, like a dog I obey. 

"Yes." 

Awkward. A few seconds of silence passed between us then I cut the phone. Yes, this is what a normal conversation between my dad and I has been for a long time. I know how our calls always end so I didn't want him to fuck up my already fucked up day.

Shoving my phone into my duffel bag, I storm into the shower. Boiling hot water pours onto my skin, ridding myself of all the sweat and blood. 

I rest my hands against the walls and clench my eyes close, taking a second to normalize my ragged breathing and tense muscles. 

There's always a reason why someone can get up as messed up as I am and that reason is my Dad. If you're wondering where my Mother is then here is the simplest version of a long-ass story. She's dead. How? Thanks to the Father. 

I guess she is to blame for me being who I am today as well,  the bitch was too selfish. Left me alone with the monster I call my dad. I mean not that I'm any less of a monster myself, perhaps even more so.  You become what you've been treated as, what you've been taught to be your whole life, what you've been forced to become.