Page 56 of Shattered Love
Twenty years later
Dominic
The first punchcomes out of nowhere, the second from the right. I dodge both and bounce left, raising both fists to protect my face. As soon as they get your eye, it’s fucking over. Not that the place has any fucking rules.
A singular bulb swings between us and we fight on the concert floor like animals, using our bare knuckles and legs to gain the upper hand, fighting for dominance in these final few moments.
I take a swing. I feel my fist contact flesh and hear the sound of a crack. He falls into the crowd, his upper lip split and his eye so swollen he can barely see out of it.
“Finish him!” the crowd roars, throwing him back in the makeshift ring.
He looks around for his pack he came with, but only wads of money waved like flags in the air can be seen.
People scream, making last-minute bets at our expense, maybe even our deaths.
He adjusts back into a fighting position. He's a kid in his prime.
I’m just an older version of him. My breathing rapid, I watch from the dark outskirts of our ring. I know my coolness scares him. He saw it in my eyes. I don't fear death. Sometimes I welcome it, pray for it, but not until I get the blood of the one who took everything away from me.
He is fighting for the money, greedy to show how big his dick is.
I am fighting for information that will hopefully lead me another step closer to the man who took my beautiful.
“Fight me, old man!” he yells, showing a fake confidence, but I see the fear in his eyes.
I stalk forward.
The look in my eyes makes him take a step back. He glances nervously at the man who is screaming at him from the corner and bounces his weight from one foot to the other, most likely a move he learned from watching some fight film.
Anyone can see he is wet behind the ears. He pumps iron at the gym and automatically thinks he can fucking play with the big boys. He isn't prepared for what comes next.
There is a shimmering band of light that blinds me for a mere second. I suck in a breath as a figure appears, a figure that I've reached for every night.
“Beautiful?” Is this it? Am I dying? Has hell finally had enough of me?
My head falls to the right as I feel the impact and my body goes down. I look where the figure was, but it’s just a young kid filming on his mobile phone.
I jump up to my feet before he can think about taking the next hit. I pounce.
His eyes widen as I take my first punch.
Right, right, left.
I can see he's dizzy. Before he finds his footing, I swing with a sharp left, knocking him completely to the floor and his eyes roll before his head falls to the side.
I walk a lonely path, diverting through the back roads and alleys that are brimming with those who live for the dark. I have to be careful how much illegal fighting I do. There are only so many times before your sergeant gets suspicious and pulls you up.
I snake my way to the place they call no man’s land. It’s about a mile long. Not many of my colleagues will even come up this far in a patrol car, let alone take their chances walking, but I belong here. They recognize the darkness that lives in me.
I push open the doors to the last building on the left. The paint is peeling off and its window is boarded up where it has been broken.
It’s packed. A bar is filled with the hapless and beer sloshes to the floor. The crowd parts and I’m met by a pair of hungry eyes.
“He’s out the back,” she smiles, leaning on the counter. She has the act perfectly written. Ever since I started coming in, she has been playing the game. To her it’s a game of cat and mouse. Me ignoring her somehow meant I was to be chased.
What she will never understand, no matter how fucking blunt I have been with her, is that I’m not even playing the game. My wife may be dead, but she took my heart with her. I promised her I would love her until I took my last breath and that was a promise I will never break. A thousand women could try to turn my head or warm my bed, but none will succeed in seducing me to be unfaithful to my girl.
I bang my knuckles on the door and pain shoots up my hand. I feel my fingers. Looking down at my hand, I see the knuckles are already swollen.
