Wild Tears

Chapter 12

Ares' POV

I take Leah to my room and close the door. I let out a breath and turned towards her. She looks annoyed, probably because of my actions.

"Why did you do this?" She folds her arms up to her chest and frowns her eyebrows. "Don't act like you don't know, Rose" I roll my eyes as I lean against the wall, my hands stuffed in my jeans pocket. "Stop it, Ares" She mutters. "They deserved it" I tell her. "Excuse me? You burnt my father's face—So-called father" I correct her. "He was trying to hurt you" I add to my statement. "But what about your father? He didn't even hurt me....and you burnt his mafia agency" She frowns. "He should be thankful that he wasn't inside the building" I groan, while she stares at me.

She hates violence, so that's what made her upset and angry. But she doesn't know how much she means to me. I can abandon my desires for her. To make her happy. And it's unbearable for me to see her in pain.

"Now promise me that you'll only fight back when required otherwise" She points her finger at me.

She behaves like a baby—a stubborn one.

I chuckle as I approach her. "There is nothing to laugh I'm serious" She pouts. I cup her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It calms her down. "I don't want violence; I want peace.....with you" She utters, her voice hardly audible. "I know" I mutter.

I can't even picture my life without her. She brought colors to my colorless life.

________________________________

A few weeks have passed.

Leah and I have come closer to each other. Now she cares about me more like a wife than a lover, and so do I.

Sometimes I think to escape from here and take her with me. Escape from this cruel world. I wish I could. I vowed always to protect her the second I fell in love with her. I won't let anything happen to her, and I mean it.

I drink the water from the bottle which Mr.Grayson has lent me. Yes, I told him everything that had happened a few days ago. But surprisingly, my father didn't act against what I did. He didn't.

Something is fishy.

"Uhh...Ares," Mr Grayson says, distracting me from my thoughts. "Hmm" I mumble as I glance at him. "Will you continue to practice or take a break from it?" He asks. "No, I won't. "I—I hope the training is going well" A familiar voice sneers from the back. We both turn around.

I knew it. It's my father.

He approaches us. His heavy footsteps echo in the whole room. "Umm...yes, he's doing well" Mr Grayson says. "So, would he mind if I take a small test?" My father says, talking to Mr Grayson, however, staring at me. "What test?" Mr Grayson questions.

"I want him to fight against the opponent I've got for him" My father says. His back straightens as he keeps his hands behind his back. "How about tomorrow?" Mr.Grayson asks. My father shakes his head no. He wants the fight to take place right now. "But—I'm ready anyway, "I finally speak. My father smirks, and I know that smirk very, very well.

"Scott!" He shouts someone's name and a guy walks into the room. Wearing a plain white T-shirt and black trousers. He's approximately my height, 6 feet, and 1 inch; his skin is pale, his hair and eyes brown, and he has a sharp jawline. He stands right behind my father.

"This is Scott, the one with whom Ares has to fight, no matter who will get injured" My father says. "So, are they both supposed to use any weapons?" Mr.Grayson asks. "Only Scott is allowed to use knives" My father says as he glances at me as if he expects me to be scared for not being allowed to use weapons, which is probably not true. "But that's unfair" Mr Grayson mutters.

"No, it's not. I'm doing this for him. What if he finds himself in a situation where he has no weapons but is surrounded by his foes? What will he do then?" My father's question leaves Mr Grayson speechless.

He has a point. I find my father right for the first time.

"Now go into the ring boys" My father commands me and scott. I put on my mitted training gloves and jumped in the ring.

I know my father very well. This test is just a lame pretext. He merely wants me to get beaten up by a boy similar to my age. He wants me to get hurt so he can taunt me by saying I'm not well-trained yet.

Anyway, now Scott also has entered the ring. I glance at Mr Grayson, who's standing next to my father. He's still concerned about me. About the fight. About the consequence.

I clench my fists and lift them in the air. My face was a few inches away from my fists.

"Fight!" My father yells, and Scott immediately steps forward, throwing his fist toward my face, I successfully dodge it by ducking, and then I strike my fist against his jaw. He wobbles, taking a few steps back. He holds his jaw and widens his eyes at me.

He again approaches me, throwing another fist. I step aside and grab his arm. I tug at his shoulder and smash his face against my knee. He groans as he stumbles but tries to keep himself steady. Now his nose starts to bleed. He clenches his jaw. He yanks his t-shirt up. He has four knives strapped around his waist. He takes one of them out, the one which is sharp enough.

He approaches me and lifts the knife, ready to hurt me. However, he stabs me in the stomach when I try to fend him off. I groan as I take a step back. I glance at Scott, who has a smirk on his face. I frown my eyebrows. I approach him, and he tries to stab me again but doesn't succeed since I try to dodge it. He again tries, now giving me a massive cut on my chest. I topple on the floor, pressing my hand against my chest. He approaches me. He lifts his feet in the air and slams it in my stomach. I flinch. He takes a few steps back as he chuckles.

I cough blood. "Ares!" Mr Grayson yells as he stares at me with a concerned look. He has come to the other side of the ring, where I'm lying. I glance at my father, who throws me an unimpressed look. I get up on my feet even if it hurts. I stare at Scott. He takes a few steps towards me, but before his knife can reach me, my fist collides with his jaw so that he topples on the floor. And now he doesn't stand against me again.

I fall on my knees as I pant. The fight is over. Mr Grayson slips through the ropes of the ring and rushes towards me. He cares about me more than my father does. My father never really cared about me.

Mr Grayson helps me to get out of the ring. He takes me towards the bench, and I wince in pain as I sit on it. He wanted to say something, but my father interrupted.

"Leave him, Grayson!" He growls. "Alfred show a little bit of mercy on your son; he's injured" Mr Grayson defends me. "I'm not here to show mercy. Leave him alone. He'll heal himself on his own" My father commands. "But—That's an order!"My father frowns. "I don't need someone's help either" I say as I struggle to get up from the bench.

"Well, I won against the boy you brought for the fight anyway" I mutter as I approach the exit door. I stumble in the midway, but I try to keep myself steady. 

_______________________________

This was the first time I wrote a fighting scene hope you guys liked it. 😅