Page 57 of You Had Me At Thirteen

But her audacity to think she has any kind of place in my life besides the potential for my dick to be inside her is beyond me. She makes me feel things I don’t want to feel. Feelings get you hurt and I’m already in enough pain.

I throw on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, then pull up Jordan’s number on my phone as I sit on the edge of my bed. My legs bounce as I wait for him to pick up.

He answers on the second ring. ‘What’s up?’

‘Hey, man. I need a favour.’

‘Sure thing.’

‘Can you get me a fight tonight?’

He’s silent for a moment. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he says and hangs up.

I’m glad he didn’t ask me questions. I already have a fight lined up for tomorrow night, but I need to get my fists into someone now.

A few moments later, he rings me back.

‘Yeah?’

‘Right, so The Trenchman is fighting tonight. Supposed to be Georgie fighting him, but he’s out with the stomach flu. He’s all yours if you want it?’

‘I’ll take it.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m fucking sure. Just set it up.’

‘Fine. Be here at 9 pm.’ The phone goes dead, leaving me to pace my room again.

Now my brain isn’t just on what happened with Matilda, it’s on the impending fight tonight. Cole “The Trenchman” Baker got his name because they say he literally puts you in the ground. But that’s what I want, right? To feel pain on the outside so the pain on the inside doesn’t destroy me first. I know of one guy who fought him and ended up on life support. He didn’t come off it.

Not that I’m one to throw fucking stones while living in a goddamn glass dome. We’ve all got thatonefight we can’t take back. I’ve moved past mine, but I’ll never forget it. It’s a reminder that I can never go back to that place. It was just after I found out about my mum’s cancer diagnosis – I was two fights in and at the time the fighting seemed to help, to quench some of that insatiable rage building inside me. After one particularly bad day, I showed up to fight as usual, but as I stepped into the cage, someone from the crowd yelled out something I don’t even recall now. All I remember is taking it out on the poor bloke opposite me. I had to be dragged from his unconscious body before I even realised he’d already tapped out. Luckily for me, the dude survived, but not without permanent damage. The only good thing, I guess, is that no-one dares to spill the beans on what we do, so I got off scott-free while old mate gets to live with a permanent limp because of the brain damage I delivered. It still makes my stomach churn. All I can do is try to rein in the beast living inside me.

I scrub my hands down my face and suck in a deep breath. Looks like this is my chance to show everyone what I’m really made of, though. Cole is one heck of an opponent, so he won’t go down easy. My fights so far have been less than fulfilling for my need. It’s rare that I even get a scratch on me, but tonight, I’m not coming away injury-free.

Shoving all my gear into my gym bag, I double check I have everything, then head to my mum’s room. She’s asleep, but I go in and place a hand on her shoulder to wake her.

She stirs. ‘Wren?’

‘I’m just going out for a few hours. Will you be okay?’

She waves me off, her eyes closing again. ‘Sure, sweetheart. Be careful.’

I still at her words, but shake them off before I kiss her forehead and head out. Cole Baker may put people in the ground, but my fight is bigger than him. Tonight, I’m going to cut him. They don’t call me The Butcher for nothing.

When I pull up outside the warehouse, I notice I’m early. After two nights of restless sleep, watching over my mum, I’m feeling awake now, adrenaline coursing through me, making my insides vibrate.

When Mum fainted Monday night, there was no way I was leaving her side until I knew she would be ok. I called the doctor out, and after he checked her over, he said she was ok and just to get some rest, unless there was a change, then I had to bring her straight into the emergency department. Thank fuck she’s been fine ever since, but the niggling thoughts in the back of mind have me itching for this fight.

There are more cars here than on my usual Thursday night. Heat crawls up my chest as the thought that Jordan is holding out on me crosses my mind, but I shake it off. All it means for tonight is that the payout will be decent. I can’t afford to lose. It won’t be easy, but I’ve seen Cole fight twice. He’s big, but he’s sloppy. The bigger they are, the harder they are to take down, but I have the skills and the height advantage. I just have to stay away from those punches he loves to dish out. If one of them connects with my face at full force, I’m not sure I’ll be getting up off the ground. If I can get him on his back, my holds can take him out.

I grab my bag from the back seat and head into the warehouse. The familiar scent of sweat and dirty socks infiltrates my nostrils. You get used to it after a while, but the initial shock of it still makes me want to gag.

Jordan sits in his usual spot against the far wall, only just visible through the roaring crowd. As I weave my way through the warmth and sweat of the bodies huddled together, we lock eyes.

He lifts his chin and jumps up to hug me. ‘You good?’

I nod. ‘Yep. Just need another fight.’

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