LAST MAN STANDING [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rain poured heavily as people moved past me. None of them ever prying. I guess that was the only thing I loved about this city. Everyone minded their own business.

My blue eyes that were feeling heavy, focused on the busy street, blinked now and again. My whole body was...numb. Was it the cold? Or was I still in adrenaline?

Probably both, but mostly cold. I was soaking wet after all. My eyes suddenly caught sight of the young woman walking with her son, making me miss my own mother.

It was crazy how both my parents felt like they were in my head and never real. I guess that fuckin scared me. Even with their photograph and articles of their death, I was starting to forget them slowly. Something I never wanted.

It was worse because I didn't have anyone who I would talk to. There was no someone who was still in my life who knew them. I was all alone at the East side of Glim city away from any of my beautiful memories, memories of a family I was starting to think was never there. What if I was dreaming? What if I really was not who I thought I was?

The familiar silver four door truck car pulling over before the veranda of shops I stood under, pulled me out of my bitter thoughts. My hands clenched close, cramming the plastic bag with my purchased goods.

My left brow with a scar already up, aiming to touch my forehead. The driver's door swung open. My throat drying immediately. The face of a man I knew stepped out.

Fuck Hinto! My eyes focussed on the muscular built man with dark blonde hair, neatly trimmed beard. His hands right hand shielded his face from the violent rain.

"Hyphen!" he yelled.

"Damn you Hinto," angrily hissed, limping toward Jason.

So Hinto had really decided on telling Jason even after I had asked him not to tell anyone. Morgen, he probably knew too. Jason and Morgen were good friends and mostly Monet Gym partners. Yes, they fuckin owned the gym together.

They were like brothers. His leather brown boots splashed on the puddle of water on the dents on potholes. What was our mayor doing with the money if he couldn't fix the roads?

He opened the front door for me not asking any questions no paying attention to my swollen face. I quickly stepped inside not wanting to make a mistake of him noticing how bad I looked.

He shut it gently and moved around his truck to enter the driver's seat. Through the window screen covered by the sheath of rain I could easily see his figure and building lights of the city.

Warmness rushing through my body and nicotine filling my nose. Jason was a heavy smoker another reason he had left WH4000. His lungs couldn't take the extensive fighting. They would shut down. He had decided to teach young fighters how to fight instead, working with Morgen who also had a history of being a wrestler.

Jason had was the one who had taught me on how to use Knees in small quantity since at first, I was like a fuckin excessive Knees user. The drug doctor of the team, that's what Hinto and I would call him. My numb hand placed the small plastic with my purchased goods inside the cubby hole before zipping down my jacket. I had nothing underneath, only my numb naked body with healed scars. The door clicked open, and my eyes shifted onto Jason who had just entered the driver's seat.

I carefully took my jacket off, making sure not to further my injures. Injuries that were starting to sting a little. My senses were being regained. Was my blood slowly cooling off and allowing my body to collect all the pain?

I slid it off carefully and slowly. I needed to hide my injuries from Jason. The last thing I needed was him fussing over it or even telling Morgen (If he hadn't told him yet) that I was injured. I couldn't risk Morgen stopping me from competing, not when it was drafting.

I had worked hard for this to just miss the drafting. I could manage. Jason's hand pulled the new pair of clothes from the back seat and handed them to me.

"There," without looking at me.

I took them.

"Thanks," I softly said, a little embarrassed about my situation.

"Those wet clothes toss them at the back seat,"

I nodded. Silence then regained as he sped the truck up the busy street. "Hinto told me you got attacked by the out-liners, taking your bike along all your possessions," he began.

There! The reason I didn't want to call him. "It's not that big," I replied trying to sound calm.

He glanced at me from the rear-view mirror. "Not big? Have you seen yourself?" he asked in concern.

I had lied, not telling Hinto that I had been attacked by Titus the Wrecker. I didn't want to worry them, instead I had said I had been attacked by the outliners. "You look like a fuckin roasted tomato,"

"I'm fine," I argued.

A sigh left his lips. "I mean they weren't that man, and they hardly touched me, I'm good,"

"Listen, I'm not Morgen who tells you what to do and not to do but I want you to know that you still got next year, you can still draft next year there is no need to rush if you feel..."

"I'm drafting!" I snapped at him. His gun metal eyes stared at me from the rear-view mirror. "Tonight, I'm drafting."

I had fuckin worked hard to be at this point to just wait for next year! I needed to draft, I had to get to level six.