Page 69 of The Two Halves of My Heart

Chapter 21

Maddison 21 Years Old

Shit, what the fuck!

My head was dizzy, and I could hear ringing. And then it all cleared, and I was back—the noise of the crowd swallowing me up as I tried to focus. Pain exploded, sending red-hot splinters through my back and at my hip, and I turned away to try and escape.

I pushed up to my knees and staggered to my feet. The cheer helped keep me there, but I knew I was on shaky ground. This guy wasn’t pulling his punches, and I was on the back foot.

Fuck. I circled around, struggling to find the jerk and plan my offensive, but that was fucking hard when you couldn’t see him coming. I was slow, in a shaky state, and disorientated until I felt him. His fist slammed against my jaw and then at my chest.

Jesus, it hurt.

I blinked the stars back and shook my head to the side before spitting out a mouthful of copper-tasting saliva.

I’d been doing this for months, and no one had ever landed a punch on me like that. I was better than this for fuck’s sake. Fucking Leo, bringing her here.

“Argh,” I roared, working on the frustration that was like a bomb waiting to go off inside of my chest if only I could stop my head from spinning for two seconds to get my own hit in.

I swung, and missed, but felt the follow up from the bastard. First, one to my shoulder and then another to my back. My arm arced again, and still, I connected with nothing but air. Sloppy and fucking amateurish, but I had no other choice. I fell back into a corner, needing the support of the walls to keep me up. The sneers and yells from the crowd told me how much of a shit move it was, but I had to try and focus—clear the fog and catch a breath.

“Get off the ropes, Maddison!” Even through the uproar around me, I could hear Zuri, yelling in my ear, but I blocked him out.

After a few deep breaths, I blinked the sweat from my eyes and focused on who was in front of me. He acted as though he was the fucking victor already, strutting about the ring, cheering the crowd on like he owned this place. He didn’t. This was my fight, and he wouldn’t show me up like this.

Grace was watching. She’d come, after all. Now I needed that to mean something to me; after all, there was a reason I always wanted her to see me. She gave me something extra to fight for, and right now, I needed that more than ever.

It was a fucking dirty tactic, but there were no rules to this sport. I bent at the waist, resting my arms on my knees as if I were dizzy and struggling to stand up straight, and I threw in a few groans for good measure, luring the bastard in. If the situation were reversed, the kill would be a temptation, too. Finish the job and claim the victory for real, and right now, I was counting on that.

My vision was clearing with every deep breath, thank fuck, and I kept my head lowered, but not so that I couldn’t see his feet. After a few moments of juicing the crowd, he took the bait. Idling up to me. He needed to be within striking distance, so now it was just a game of nerve. One step, two…

I locked my hands together, and with all the toxic fury in me—all the pain, hurt and frustrations—I exploded. I swung my arms in an upward arc, on target to connect with the bottom of his jaw.

It was a perfect hit. For me.

The guy’s head snapped back so fast, he staggered and grabbed at his jaw. I didn’t give him room to breathe and stalked after him to finish the job. Two swift jabs and I smashed my foot into his abdomen. He dropped to his knees.

“Stay down, fucker.” My instruction was explicit, and I followed it up with my fist. He dropped and didn’t get back up.

The crowd went mad, and I should have revelled in it, but it didn’t do the usual job. I could still feel the buzzing under my skin, the need to break something apart so vivid it scared me. I’d just taken a beating, and honestly, only scraped through that fight. My tank should have been empty, but I wanted to rip the guy’s head off all over again.

I took my time, hoping that it was just the adrenalin still running wild and making me itch, so I paced around the ring. The need to look up and check on Grace became a pulsing need, overtaking everything else inside and, in some ways, it cut through the shit.

But as I cast my eyes up, she wasn’t there. My eyes scanned to find her, looking through hundreds of faces and shapes until I dialled it back down. Leo had moved her, and she was already on her way to me.

I left the ring, and as I jumped down, the pain zapped through my body, reminding me of the beating I’d taken.

People from everywhere swam around me like ants, racing to get to their prize. But I wasn’t interested in them. I brushed them aside and cut through to where Leo and Grace were.

“Man, what the hell happened? You had me worried.” He leaned in to embrace me, and I let him, but my eyes stayed fixed on Grace. She was pale, with blurry red eyes. Her head was down, and she clutched at herself with her arms wrapped around her waist.

This was not what I wanted her to see, but if she had just agreed to come in the first place, none of this would have happened. The thought was a bitter realisation, and it added to the other shit of emotions festering in my stomach and under my skin.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing her hand and hauling her through the people still clamouring around us. I led her, with Leo following, through to the back-room area.

“You got to get checked out before you leave. You took some heavy hits, man.”

I pushed open the door to the prep area and took a seat on one of the benches. There was always a doctor about or someone to make sure we were in one piece. They usually see to the loser first for obvious reasons.

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