Inked (PUBLISHED) || Dylan O'Brien

Chapter Forty-Four

Update: July 13, 2022

You can find a physical copy of 'INKED' on Amazon!! Link in my bio :)

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[this chapter is not edited]

When I first met Dylan, and he told me about his street fighting life during that drunken night in the shower, I used to imagine this beautifully inked angel in the center of a crowded circle, dripping sweat, and throwing punches at the assbutt who deserves it. He'd come out victorious, looking a little beat but never to the point of no return. Of course, when he explained himself, and how street fighter is just a title since none of the fighters are legitimately registered, that daydream soon vanished but was replaced with a nightmare.

Now I'm left with bruised eyes, busted lips and blood dripping down his face. I'd only seen him fight once, but it was enough for my stomach to twist and turn at just the thought of this nightmare coming to life. Every day, leading up to this fight, there was a change in Dylan. He was so stressed out; he started pulling away from me. Our conversations weren't as long lasting as usual, he'd be at the gym all the time and when we would get the chance to hang out, he was very distracted. I understood, of course, he's told me before how he is when it comes to fighting. He needs to cut everything out and focus on the win and at the end of the day; I'd be there for him.

I'll always be there for him.

He was doing fine this morning. Smiles and all, he was talkative and getting ready for the fight. He was acting as though he had nothing to be nervous about. I guess it was a good thing, positive thinking works for performance purposes. He warmed up all day, practicing combos as I sat and watched, trying to be as positive as him. But deep down, I was terrified. Around six, I gave him a kiss before he disappeared to the locker room.

It was quiet for a couple of hours after that, only a few people walking around the gym that came to work out. Aaron's requested that I stay in his office as people organizing the fight bustle in and out of the building.

It's late now, the fight was supposed to be hours ago but nearly two in the morning and I'm still here. Luckily enough, my parents were out for Valentine's Day enjoying a wine filled night down in Niagara Falls. Sitting here, tapping my foot nervously on the ground, I think I'm more anxious for Dylan than anyone else in this tension filled gym.

Aaron's been in and out of the locker room for hours, giving Dylan advice before coming to sit with me for a bit. Each time he walks into the office, locks the door and settle in the seat across from me, he looks more and more worried.

"Emma." He quietly whispers. "How are you feelings?"

"The way you look."

He chuckles lightly, his cheeky grin plastered across his face. "I don't blame you."

"This is different." I say, crossing my arms. "This isn't like the fight with Juan."

"Dylan and Dean . . . and Derek, they have a history. A nasty history. Dylan doesn't talk about it much, but it wasn't just fighting." Aaron rubs the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable with the topic. "They used Dylan from when he was fifteen, until he beat Dean when he was twenty. They had him for five years, five years of Dylan's life I think he constantly makes the effort to forget."

"He tries to forget a lot of things from his past." I add, frowning. "But he just suppresses them and it makes everything worse for him. He's a ticking time bomb, ready to explode."

"And Dean's his intended target."

I swallow the thick lump in my throat, my head turning to the slamming sound of a door swinging open. A large group of men, maybe ten or so, come bursting through the doors. I feel my stomach twist as my body shudders forward, a vomity feeling at the back of my throat as I lock onto Dean's face. It's been months but still remember that night on my birthday so clearly. He was the one that assaulted me. Those gross, grimy, sausage like fingers, groping me and tugging at me. His uncomfortably warm breath hitting the back of my neck. A sudden burning erupts in my chest, and I found myself thinking about how much this disgusting pervert deserves to suffer.