Page 95 of The Breaking Pointe
Justashestopsyapping,Ijoltmyfisttothemiddleof his face then send my other fist right behind it—and repeat, shoving myself into him so he hits the floor of the ring.Even looking at his body and watching it ricochet against the hard elastic below us, I cease to feel mercy.My arms continueto shoot at him, envisioning this as the alternate ending to what ensued between my father and me on that day.
When I think of him, it’s he who shall not be named. I’m not sure I can say his name again out loud.When I do, it makes the room feel small.The same way I feel when I’m not winning.The pressure is on.I wanna test all levels of physics in order to make the outcomes bend to my advances. All because he’s made me feel like I would never be able to.It seems that even when I give my all, he finds a way to remind me that it’s healing that I need, and my wounds have nothing to do with losing.
Two hands latch onto each of my arms, lifting me frommy non-stop punch streak.
“Foulplay,Colton,whathappenedtotheplaybook?!”
Trey yells from behind me, raising my awareness of how badly I’ve trapped my competitor.
I push back my arms, making Trey release his hold on me, looking around the small venue. Turning in a few circles, it takes less than a second for me to see all eyes on me, listening to the referee call out all of my incidents.My heartbeat grows loud inside my head, along with his yelling and the chanting of the crowd.I grab the closest ropes around the ring and hop over them, jumping down to the normal floor level and escaping back to the dressing rooms.I swing the door closed behind me, backing myself up against it.
There’s no way I can try to make sense of any of that.
“I need to get in—he’ll let me in, just move!”I hear an iron-willed voice on the other side of the door then a knock right after. “Colton, it’s Noelle, can I come in?”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before turning around and carefully opening the door.She has a quiet expression, big, worried eyes, and her hair looks like she ran just as fast as I did.
“Are you okay?”She pokes her headout slightly.
I nod, stepping aside for her, then shutting the door instantly.“I felt overwhelmed at the end, there,” I say, walking to the couch and sitting down.“I didn’t mean to do…that.”
She sits beside me, facing my direction. “He’ll be fine, I think…” she responds, beginning to take one of my gloves off. “Are you calm now?” she asks.
“Notsure.”Iwatchherhands.
She sighs, looking at me as she pulls the glove off. “You technically won, if it means anything?You know, minus thefoulplayandplaybookthing,”shesays,startingonthe
other glove.“But you probably already know that.”
“I’d be one narcissistic fuck if I played by those rules. I lost, fair and square,” I groan softly, stretching my hand before raking my fingers through some of her curls, studying how they fall on my bare chest as she prods at the second glove.
Everything about her is so quintessential. How is she not sick of me yet? Or any of my heavy-ass luggage?
“I get the rules, but that guy was an ass.” She looks at me with disdain in her eyes, pulling the glove off and setting them both on the other side of her.
Breathing through my nose, I turn to face her more, leaning an arm on the back of the couch.“Noelle, I don’t understand.” She stays in place, not making a sound with her eyes still on me. “You try to take care of me—well you do take care of me. You always happen to be there. Why?” I question her, curious for her answer.
There can’t be a viable reasoning for putting up with me so willingly. Hannah made that quite clear. I’m unbearable and highly strung. Yet Noelle seems to just breeze right past that.The more we continue this unlabeled entanglement, the more I want it to have a label. She hasn’t run away yet, but if the statements are true about me, it’s a matter of time before that changes. I’m avoiding commitment for her sake at this point. It’s better to save her from yet another toxic male figure.
“I care about you, Cole…” she utters, her breath hitching. “Yeah, but why?” I ask again.
Her lips press together, speechless as her eyes wander between us.
“Should…should I not feel compelled to look after you?” She grasps the pillow beside her. “I thought we weregetting
closer.It used to be simple rides from work, but now I’m coming to your matches, Colton,” she rambles.
Her voice wavers as if the words are hard to say. A certain fear and tone of voice she’s never used with me is now ringing in my ears.She’s quite obviously taking this a lot more seriously than I assumed.She probably thinks that I’m testing her—which is a jerk move. Making her question if she’s good enough doesn’t solve my insecurities. But of course, the word-vomit washes over me at the wrong times. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.” I scoot closer to
her. “I shouldn’t put you on the spot.” I take her hand. “It’s hard to understand you.Your signals are mixed,
and you never talk.I want nothing more than to be ableto comprehend what you’re thinking,” she whispers.
“I’m trying…” I whisper back.
“Sotalktome.”Shestaresintomyeyes.
I blink a few times and look down.“I’ve been having intense memories.During the fights.That’s why I keep wigging out.” I sit back.
