Love can be really sick and twisted. Especially when viewed from a position of religious intolerance. Especially if you're a masochist. Especially when your sadist is your childhood friend turned enemy. And especially when the masochist is the real...
My jaw explodes in pain as a fist collides with it again and again. He had me, backed to the wall, no way out unless I earn it. I headbutt him, causing him to stagger back in momentary disorientation. I'd been in these rings fighting for over a year now meaning it's been three years since I moved to independence. Now I didn't need that fake ID to buy alcohol if I actually wanted too and I could legally work my job.
My opponent recovers and throws a punch but I catch it effortlessly. "You're not strong enough to make me feel something." I say, done letting him get his hits in. My vision clouds with red as I let wrath take over. I corkscrew through the air and land a backwards axe kick to his head, slamming his face to the ground and knocking him out instantly. The Count starts but there was no point...he wasn't getting back up for a few minutes. After ten seconds the crowd erupts into cheers and jeers as money was made and money was lost in the gambling pool.
I struggle to shake the red from my vision. It didn't like to be put back into it's box until it was satisfied. Letting it out was a dangerous game...like submerging your head under water at the pool. You place you hand on the edge of the wall because of your inate fear of drowning. You're scared you won't be able to pull yourself back up in time before the water claims you so you hold on to the wall...and I...I was losing my grip.
Pedro appears at my side to help me out of the ring. As promised by Mr. Sable, Pedro got a pay increase and became something like a handler for me. Being around him quieted the screams of rage in my head sometimes. He loved the extra money and spent some of it on flashy things to look like a world class asshole but he always held on to that gold link chain I stole a while back. I could tell that it was the only thing he really cared about and the rest was just him trolling for attention. Speaking of...
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"Why are you dressed like that?" I question, laughing hard enough for my urges to subside for a bit.
"Why not?" Pedro grins.
"You look like a skin walker." I chuckle even more.
"I don't dress up to look good, Primo." Pedro gestures. "I dress to make the hoes mad."
I shake my head at Pedro's goofy nature before my head clouds over again with the need for violence. I hold my head and try to focus...to ignore the other voices in my head trying to get me to rampage.
"Good job, boys." Mr. Sable says as we exit the ring. "The kings of the underworld are taking quite an interest in us. I only have a few more to establish business relations with before I can start making some serious moves around here."
"Eso es bueno para ti, but if we're done for the day, I think I should take Van home." Pedro says.
"Yeah, fine." Mr. Sable permits. "It'd be a bad look if he flew off the handle here."
"Thanks." Pedro nods.
The two of us make our exit and get back out onto the street. Pedro pats my back to remind me that he's there. "You alright?" His voice barely cuts through the noise in my head.
