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“Gun, tell me I’m seeing things. How the fuck is she fighting inmyoctagon, and I had no fucking clue about it?”
More importantly, where the hell has she been? If she thinks she is going to just come back around with no explanation, she has another fucking thing coming to her.
“Damn, did she just knock her out?” Gunnar asks after Emerson lands another solid punch to the other chick’s face, knocking her down.
The referee calls it, and the crowd goes wild. Except for my section, where Greyson sits with his arm slung around a stunned Lottie as he looks to Smith and Ford, whose faces both appear to have the same look of disbelief. Their eyes flit between each other and the octagon, desperately trying to figure out—just like I am—what the fuck is going on and why she’s back. Ford looks as if he’s frozen in place, questioning whether he took too many edibles before he came here tonight. And my mom sits there shocked, her jaw on the floor as she stares at the girl who used to follow both her sons around incessantly. The same girl who dropped off the face of the earth one day with no true explanation.
“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the winner by knockout… Emily ‘The Siren’ Star.”
What the fuck is with that name?
Gunnar grabs me by the shirt, breaking my eye contact as I stand, shell-shocked.
“Nox…you have to leave that where it's at. We will figure this all out later. I promise we won’t let her go anywhere without getting some answers, but for now, get this thick fucking skull of yours back into your zone.” He grabs my face, doing anything he can to make me believe his words. “I know that girl did a number on you, but you need to take all that rage out in the octagon like you do best.”
I want to deny that she didn’t do shit to me, but he remembers how I was after she left… There’s no avoiding the truth.
Jerking out of his grip, my fist flies against the wall, punching straight through the sheetrock. I’d like to say that it made me feel better, but in reality, it just left more damage for me to repair. The hole may be big, but not nearly the size of the one she left inside of me when she disappeared. The sight of her here is like pouring salt on that old wound and ripping open the small pieces that have started to heal.
I feel Gunnar’s and Joey’s stares on me as they stay quiet, letting me work through my anger. Pacing the room, I will myself not to storm out of here, and drag her ass out of that octagon to tell me why the fuck she left me without a trace.
But fuck that… She isn’t worth my time. I just may have to repeat that mantra for the rest of my life.
“Fuck it…and fuck her,” I say, stripping out of my shirt and putting on a fresh Lights Out tee in honor of the gym that made me who I am today.
I roll my neck around, trying to release some of the new tension in my body. I almost feel sorry for New Jersey, because the hatred spewing from my pores is about to be taken out on him the minute the referee signals the start of round one. The thought has me ready to warm up, needing to focus on something other than this fucked-up turn of events. I make my way over to Joey, who’s already holding the tape in his hands, ready to wrap up my bleeding knuckles.
Bleeding knuckles are better than a bleeding heart.
* * *
“Middle Child”by J. Cole booms through the speakers and the crowd goes wild as I make the trek toward the octagon. I’m laser focused on getting in there, doing what I do best, and using every bit of mental strength I have to block her out. I embrace the pain and sadness, letting it take over, fueling me to obliterate my opponent. It works almost too damn well, causing me to black out, only to be brought to by the sound of the bell and the referee holding up my arm in victory. I chance a look at Jersey and almost wince when I see the destruction my emotions and fists have caused.
My loved ones can’t hide the concern they are trying to mask behind the high of the win as they enter the ring to congratulate me. I give them all sweaty hugs, and before anyone has the opportunity to bringherup, I tell them the plan for the after-party my manager Cliff is throwing at his house.
Mom approaches me for one last hug before she heads back to Richmond Hills. “I FaceTimed your brother for a round. He said you were unlike anything he had ever seen.” I kiss her on the forehead. My brother would have been here had this fight not been a last-minute add on my schedule the week after we moved him back to Florida for the school year. Emerson's sudden appearance makes me thankful he wasn't.
“Thanks, Ma.” I give her a questioning look and, luckily, she understands without me having to ask. She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t mention anything else. I thought maybe you should… Did you know?” I hear the pain in her voice. The loss of Emerson was hard and confusing for my entire family.
I close my eyes and shake my head, letting a bit of the turmoil I feel from the situation creep back in. “No, but I plan to find out exactly what’s going on. Let me tell Colton once I have some answers.”
My mom nods, giving me one last squeeze as she whispers, “Take it easy on her. She always loved you both so much. Maybe there is more to her story.”
I choose not to respond. What could possibly have her walking away from me, the person she had told the day before just how much she loved and could never live without? On top of that, she walked away from my brother, ripping his heart out along with mine in the process.
Before I head up to shower the blood and sweat off, I turn to my three best friends. “Y’all meet me at Cliff’s. I’ll be there in an hour, tops.” Noticing the concern on Ford’s face frustrates me so much more than Greyson and Lottie. His theory of life is to mask his demons with sex, drugs, and inappropriate jokes. The fact that he is worried about me just goes to show how fucked up I was after she left. If it wasn’t for fighting, I don’t know where I would have ended up.
Probably a drunk, just like my shitty sperm donor.
Gunnar throws his arm around me, guiding us out of the stadium center and back up to my suite.
“Hell of a fight, boy. I’m proud of you for focusing and letting that pent-up anger flood out with every calculated move you made tonight. That head on your shoulders…it’s tougher than you think it is.”
I nod, but I’m not so sure I believe him. I’ve been fighting in one way or another my whole life, but it's my mind that’s always been the weak part of my body. Even in this moment, I want to be riding the high of another win, but I feel myself letting every toxic trait I have spiral out of control at the fresh reminder of her abandonment and disregard for me.
A fucking letter, that was it.One flimsy piece of paper destroyed every dream we had ever created together and shattered every bit of trust and self-worth I had in the process. We both grew up in a world filled with our own demons, and on that day, she became one of mine.
A big part of me wants to burn this whole place down until I find her and demand answers, but the other part of me isn’t sure I actually want them.
