Page 68 of Invisible String
“You smell like shit. Get yourself together. She’s not coming back.” It hurts, but it’s the truth.
“Because of you…you did this.”
“I didn’t do shit.” I squirt body soap on him. “The truck hit us. Would it have been better if I’d died instead or died with her?” I’m running thin on my patience.
Silence.
Turning off the water, I help him out, handing him a towel. He wraps it around his waist. He’s still wobbly, so I help him to his room. Once he’s dressed, he lies on the bed and passes out.
Shutting the door behind me, I go to my old room. It’s still the same as how I left it as a kid. Posters hanging across the room. A couple of boxes that I never unpacked. A pile of wrestler figurines on the bed. Matchbox cars are all over the floor—a photo of the three of us on my nightstand.
A smile forms on my lips. We appear so happy. My father, in good health and spirits, is holding me in his arms.
What’s sad is he never fought to get me back. Now, I see things differently. I would have never mether.
The floor creaks as I walk back to the living room. After finishing cleaning, I leave for the gym. I’ll be back again in a couple of days to repeat it all over.
The familiarityof the gym is like home to me. Not much has changed throughout the years. Carlos has expanded, and he has more students than before. It’s grown.
“How’s it going?” Xander juts his chin as we fist bump with his gloves on. “Are you ready for the next fight?”
“Always fucking ready. I was born ready to tear an asshole on all those shitheads.”
He laughs.
“How about you?” I ask. He’s been fighting in the Underground fight clubs too. We don’t talk about it in public since it’s a hush-hush operation.
“You know it.” He leans in and whispers, “Thoseputosare getting all up in everyone’s business. I heard they’ve been searching for the person who called the cops. They beat the shit out of some guy. It wasn’t even the right person. The guy is in the hospital with broken ribs and a leg, and one of his arms is also broken. His face is black and blue.” He shakes his head. “The ringleader of the Underground is brutal. You know how those crime organizations are. But they pay well.” Xander’s slight accent tone drops with somberness. Just like me, he’s been doing it for the money. Xander hasn’t said why he needs the money. He and I are similar in keeping our walls tall and our circle small. He always seems on edge.
“Maybe it’s time you fight legally,” I tell him because I trained him, and he’s ready. From what I learned, he had been fighting at a gym in Mexico in his teens, and then his father moved him to the United States.
“I will when you do,” he taunts.
“I’m going to talk about it with Carlos.”
He smirks. “He’s been waiting for that talk. I assume.”
Carlos has been riding my ass for a long time. What stopped me was money. I needed money asap. And making money going pro takes time.
The door in Carlos’s office is ajar. “Hey, Carlos,” I greet him with my deep voice as I walk toward his desk.
He’s reclined in his chair, cracking open pistachios with one hand while scrolling through emails on his computer with the other. His favorite snack always seems to be within arm’s reach.
“Ahh, there’s the boss man. How’s the business going?” He grins, standing to pat me on the back.
“It’s booming. I’m opening an office in California.”
“Wonderful. I’m proud of you. You’ve come a long way.”
Those words hit hard in the chest. His approval means so much to me. He has been supportive through all mydifficulties. He’s known about my Underground fights, although he disapproves. Carlos has been by my side. He’s been there to patch me up when needed.
“Thank you. It means a lot to me.”
He gestures to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit, my son. Let’s chat.”
“Next fight is going to be big. The bid is high. He’s a Russian guy taller than you. He has two losses.”
“But?”
