Runner (Riders of Apollo #3)

Chapter Three: Raphael Flores

It's like I can sense when he's watching me, even on the dumb cameras that watch our every fucking move. I don't know why but right now I can feel him staring at his computer screen as I slam my fists into the punching bag viciously.

I'm trying to knock my own memories out of this place. Even this place has memories of us together, this is where he first kissed me even if he doesn't remember, even if he doesn't care. Why would he? At this point I'm a plaything to his every whim and I've made it very easy for him to take advantage of me, of my love for him.

I'm the older one here, yet I feel like a lovestruck teenager trying to fuck my teacher when it is so clearly not going to happen. Tu lo amas, (you love him) my brain whispers as I slam another fist into the bag, close to tearing it apart in my anger. 

At myself, at him, at the goddamn world for making life so hard.

"Raphe, you need to calm down." His words caress my neck as he whispers from behind me. His hand touching my bare back and crawling over my shoulders to embrace me from behind. His hands pressed against my stomach as he nibbles at the skin behind my ear. "Let me help you."

"What are you going to do?" I ask breathlessly, placing my hands over his as they trail across, soft fingertips kissing my skin as his teeth latch onto my ear. He spins me around, his hands landing on my ass and bringing me infinitely closer.

"I'm going to fuck you breathless."

The final punch knocks me out of the memory and I storm out of the gym into my room, slamming and locking the door behind me. I pack my bag before having a cold shower, I dress quickly and double check my bag, heading out moments later. I need to get all this pent-up energy out and the only way I can do that is the ring.

Saviour told me about it a few months ago, whenever she got too wound up, she'd go and she'd fight. She said it's better than sparring because you don't have to hold back, you can go full throttle and tear someone apart if you want to and right now I need the adrenaline rush to stop me from slamming into that office and fucking him against the wall of it, not caring if people can hear us.

I've already established a name on the circuit, thanks to Saviour's training, and I get my own room and a larger percentage of the winnings. It's not like I need the money but any little helps when it comes to the life we lead. Besides, I'm considering buying a house instead of living in the clubhouse. I'm twenty-eight and I'm fed up of listening to everyone fucking at three am when I just want to sleep.

I just want somewhere to call my own and maybe even get a dog. I've always wanted one. I throw my bag down on the couch in my room and quickly pull my wraps on, as soon as I walked into the room the ringmaster spotted me and set me up for the next fight. I don't mind, means I can win faster, get my money faster and then start looking at houses tonight.

My winnings tonight should be about fifty grand and that will make five hundred thousand in my bank by tonight. I think that's enough to buy a house and a dog so at least there's that. My opponent tonight is some New Yorker, he's been talking himself up since he's got here but he's only fought a few of us and he lost two of those fights so he's definitely going to lose to me. Still it's funny watching them go down, the bigger they are the harder they fall.

I hop up into the ring and almost laugh at the other guy. He's quite small, maybe 5'7, with a lot of hair. I won't lie, he does have a substantial amount of muscle and he seems quite determined. He has mushroom ears and sharp eyes, his smirk evident somewhere in the beard he's got going on. He has a few tattoos but none of them seem to have any meaning and he is way too cocky for his own good.

He settles into a defensive position and I mimic him by lowering myself and bringing my hands up to protect my face. He advances first, his right leg moves and I prepare myself for a strike to the face from his left hand. I duck under it and power forward to punch his sternum, knocking the breath out of him.

I shake out my hand and settle back, allowing him to make the next move. His right foot moves forward so I kick out into his stomach before he can swing his hand or leg towards me. He stumbles back and shakes his body out before attempting to kick me in the ribs, I grip his leg and throw him over me, dropping his body to smack against the floor.

I return to the defence and he heads towards me again, I dive over him and flip him over my back before kneeing him in the face. He stays down for ten seconds, groaning like a pequeña perra (little bitch). My win is declared and I step down, collecting my winnings and heading back to my room. I'm annoyed to be honest, I thought that there'd be a decent fight tonight especially with the winnings being so high but I was let down.

My frustration is gone so it worked for the most part, the need to take Romeo up against the next wall has not diminished unfortunately and now I'm fighting against my baser instincts to not do exactly that.

I really need to get myself together.

Maybe I can convince Saviour to come to the diner with me, it's become a tradition for us to go there at least once a week and we go whenever either of us are feeling a little off which has been a lot recently.