Page 4 of The Heavier The Chains…
Being the first match also ensured my fight would be over on the off chance the cops got wind of our location and raided the place. It’s only happened a couple of times, but it has happened. Even though we moved the location for every match, you just never knew who had loose lips. But, most importantly, I had plenty of time to fix my face before having to see Edie.
“I saw Tammy Jones in the crowd,” Lars whistled. “She’s looking good, gentlemen.”
“She always looks good,” Hunter agreed. “It’s her personality that leaves a lot to be desired.”
Lars threw me a nod. “What says you, Tal?”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t care what statues are being erected in the name of that girl’s pussy, no sex is worth the crazy that comes with that girl, Lars. So, if you’re going there, don’t show up at my house later to hide from her.”
Lars threw me a goofy grin. “It’s not my dick she wants,” he laughed.
“She’s free to want my dick all she wants,” I retorted, “but she’s not getting it.”
Tammy was everything you’d imagine when you think of a hot redhead. She’s tall, with fiery red hair, and a slim, athletic body. But it wasn’t her looks that make her eye-catching. It was the way she carried herself. She acted like she was a queen amongst peasants, and no one can deny that confidence is sexy. On most girls, her attitude might appear bitchy, but on Tammy, it appeared classy. Too bad she’s nuttier than a fruitcake when she rides cock. There have been many guys in town that sought counsel for restraining orders because of the dingbat.
I jerked my head towards the restroom door. “Let’s get out of here and find an ice chest so I can try to keep the swelling down over my eye.”
Lars chuckled. “Now there’s a match that would make money,” he said. “Edie kicking Talon’s ass because we all know he’s scared shitless of her.”
I slapped him on the back of his head as Hunter laughed. “Can we just go? You guys are worse than gossipy old women.”
Hunter opened the door, and we all filed out, joining the rest of the bloodthirsty crowd. I fought because I was good at it and it made me decent money, and that’s it. I wasn’t hot headed or enjoyed physical confrontation, regardless of what people thought.
I fought because I had to.
I fought for Edie.
Chapter 2
The things that shape us.
Talon~
As predicted, Edie gave me all kinds of shit for my face, but as always, I was able to calm her down. It wasn’t like I didn’t understand where she was coming from, but I was a realist where she was a dreamer. She believed things will always work out, one way or another, and I believed things worked out only if we made them work out.
Like my parents’ marriage, for instance. That could have worked out had my father not been a self-absorbed asshole. Hawkley Draven’s dreams were bigger than his reality and, while there’s nothing wrong with that, he forgot the key ingredient to making a person’s dreams come true; hard work. I don’t care what your dream is, but it’s very rare for it to just be handed to you. People had to work to make their dreams come true and Hawk didn’t understand that concept. Instead, he blamed his failed life on his wife and children. You know, because my mother proposed to herself and got herself pregnant.
Twice.
Edie and I were only eleven months apart, but she was still my little sister, and that’s how I’ve always seen her. While she looked like our mother, I looked like our father. However, we both shared the same blue eyes of our mother’s.
My parents divorced when I was eight and Edie was seven, and while Hawkley sent a check every month for child support, my mother’s two jobs were what have kept us from being homeless. I knew the struggles of real-life problems early on and I’ve done my best to help raise Edie to the best of my ability.
It’s the reason I fought for cash.
Edie was smart as a whip and she showed signs of excelled intelligence early in life and, while I had no illusions that I would do anything else in life besides work, Edie was meant to go to college and make something of herself. I started unground fighting on my sixteenth birthday, and I’ve been doing it ever since. Edie’s plans were to apply for grants and scholarships, but she’d still need money for living expenses and stuff like that, so I was making sure that she had all the money she could, the day she takes off for college. If I ended up with a broken skull or crippled, it’d still all be worth it.Shewas worth it.
My sister knew the same borderline poverty I did. She knew all about broken homes, drug use, and gang infiltration. She knew all this, but she still smiled every morning, and she still volunteered in the neighborhood, and she still saw the good in people. If you pointed out a homeless person who most people viewed as a burden on society, Edie saw someone minding their own business, not out committing crimes or defrauding the welfare system. She saw good everywhere, and I’d do anything to keep that hope alive in her sweet, blue eyes.
As for our mother…well, Helen Draven was neglectful out of necessity. She worked two jobs; one full-time as a clerk in a meat packing company, and the other part-time as a maid for a local shady motel. We passed her in between shifts if we were home, and sometimes we could catch her before we went to school, but for the most part, we saw her on Saturday and Sunday mornings only.
It’s been ten years since she and my father divorced, and if she dated, we never knew about it. Mom was a pretty woman with light brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was only 5’1” and built like a fairy pixie. Edie was the splitting image of her, and I thought both the girls in my life were beautiful. Edie’s dream was to make enough money one day, that Mom would no longer have to work two jobs. My reality was to work two jobs as soon as I graduated so that she could quit her maid job. I was okay with working around the clock so Mom could finally breathe. Things had really gotten rough when I had turned eighteen two months ago, and the court-ordered child support stopped. But, much to everyone’s fucking surprise, Hawk had stopped by to hand deliver a check telling Mom that he’d keep paying until I graduated high school. It had felt like a prank at first, but so far, he’s kept true to his word. However, knowing that it wasn’t legally binding, I was still apprehensive about making sure I had enough fights lined up for money.
When I had turned fourteen, a Finley cousin had taken me, Lars, and Hunter to one of the traveling fights. He had snuck us in because he had been high and had thrown caution to the wind. The rules were, you had to be, at least, sixteen years old to fight or watch.
I didn’t remember any of the matches, or the people, but what I did remember was all the money exchanging hands after each fight. For the next two years, Lars, Hunter, and I had snuck into a lot of the fights, and the second I was old enough, I had signed up for my first fight. I had trained two years for it knowing it was what I wanted to do. I’d rather fight than push a broom for minimum wage, but I didn’t want to end up a bloody mess because I didn’t know what I was doing. So, two years in the gym, and a million videos on boxing techniques, I had scheduled my first fight.
And I had won.
