Page 52 of All for her Forgiveness

But what about Kennedy? What was her role in the incident? I refused to believe she was an accomplice to that bastard.

As I watched the police do their work, one of the detectives said they had access to a street camera and saw Kennedy leaving the house, apparently unharmed, getting into a car, and driving off.

The state of Pam's body couldn't have been the work of just one woman, they said, but it was clear more than one person had been involved.

There were none of Kennedy’s fingerprints on the knife, but they found them on a small statue that they later confirmed hit Pam's face on the side.

It wasn't the fatal wound, but it knocked her out, the medical examiners later affirmed.

Everything that followed from then on was the beginning of our hell—mine and hers.

The mother of my child.

The woman I could never forget, despite everything.

An accomplice to murder?

I'm not so sure anymore.

Hades

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I risewhen the bell rings, signaling the start of another fight.

Phones are prohibited here.

None of those present are interested in showing off; they're men like me who can't deal with their inner demons and need to unleash their anger on something or someone.

Immediately after a fight is finished, the ring is cleaned, but there are always stains left from the bodies that have passed through here, and I'm sure a good portion of my blood is painted on the floor I'm stepping on, from all the times I've been here before.

There are no bets or cheering crowds, no fans. This isn't entertainment; it's a way to release pain. Just a handful of men craving blood and punching each other's faces for no reason other than to avoid going mad.

Less than two minutes later, another opponent is lying on the ground. My gloved hands are covered in blood, the metallic smell spreading throughout the room. My fists don't want to stop, but my body begs for rest.

"Another one?" one of the bodyguards asks me, smiling. He knows me well enough to be sure that I won’t leave until I lose the strength to raise my fist for the last time.

I nod, indicating yes, and he laughs, but as I wait for my next opponent, all I can think about is her, Kennedy, and how, due to an increasingly likely judgment error, I helped send an innocent woman to prison.

My woman.

My son's mother.

Thinking about it awakens my madness again.

Kennedy will hate me forever.

King will hate me when he learns the truth of what I've done.

"One more, damn it!" I shout to the guard.

The adrenaline of being in the ring is nothing compared to this emotional rollercoaster inside me.

I hated myself for loving her, and now, I hate myself for having hated her.

I'm crazy, completely insane, and as I advance on my next opponent, each punch doesn't come close to relieving the pain tearing through my chest.

Physically, I'm in the ring, but my mind spins in a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts.

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