They Called Her El Diablo

Chapter 22: Revival

Hayden's POV

It's been 4 weeks. 28 days. Over 500hours. But, who's counting?

I left the guys that they but there wasn't a waking moment where they left my mind. I was still working for them but, I was exceptional in avoiding people I didn't want to see. And unfortunately the boys were victim to that. It wasn't for a lack of trying on their parts. They had texted, called, emailed even. But I didn't budge.

I used their Secretaries to help me avoid all of them. The ladies were more than happy to help me as they believed that it was all part of eliminating the competition.

I also found a new vice. Drinking. And also a new fight club. I was aware that Wendigo was looking out for me, but after that day in the hospital, I was pretty sure he had written me off as dead. On one of the first few nights after I'd cut off contact with my boys, as in, the boys, I had prowled in the shadows, listening to Plank's and Wendigo's every conversation. Wendigo and Plank had concluded, that I had "died in a ditch like the bitch that she was"

I feel the love.

At my new fight club, funnily enough called, Grounded Kombat, was one unlike XClub. Anyone could come in at anytime, any weapons and objects could be used. It was bloodier, more vicious, crueler and I loved it.

I found it the very night I'd stalked Wendy and Plank, and I hadn't looked back...yet? The fighters here were almost entirely made up of the male species. There was the occasional female but usually after a couple of rounds they'd KO and we wouldn't see them again. We all used fake names and codenames here and mine was, Diana a.k.a Diablo. It was a spur of the moment thing when the ringmaster had asked me for a show name. I was thinking of the boys and how they all knew me as the Diablo, before they met me.

Gods, I couldn't stop thinking about them.

Less than a week after I started at Grounded Kombat, I found myself with bruises and markings that just couldn't be hidden with makeup so i worked from the comfort of my hole-in-the-wall apartment. The guys' personal secretaries were more than happy to act as the messenger between me and the guys as it gave them more opportunities to interact with them. To, me, it was a win-win situation. The ladies gave me everything I needed to know and sent off my reports while I, stayed away from the offices and them.

I got out of my bed, nursing several broken ribs, and sprained wrist, and twisted ankle. My shoulder throbbed from where I'd shoved it back into the socket after last night's matches. Goddamn TreeBeard, using a, wait for it, tree branch as thick as Raven's wrist to attack.. He was one of my favorite opponents but damn! The day after was just dreadful!

I'll definitely be going back tonight.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and laughed. I looked like absolute shit. My face had a myraid of bruises, all in various stages of healing. My lip was still bloody and I was convinced it was gonna be permanently swollen. A stark contrast from how I had been when the boys were still in my life. Then, I guess you could've said i was practically glowing. Now? I was drowning in darkness. And, I wasn't making any attempt to get out. Not anytime soon.

I cleaned up the best I could, wincing as the hot water touched the open wounds that had been made from Joker's whip. The Joker's whip was a thing feared by many at the Club. It had little serrated blades at the tip of it, which gave real nasty cuts if it got you. He gave a creepy laugh whenever it did, living up to his moniker I supposed. But of course, I couldn't let myself pass up such a tempting challenge. I'd won, but not without these multitude of cuts that decorated my skin.

I walked out of the bathroom, grabbing a swig of a random bottle of alcohol nearby. I'd turned to those in recent times, to help me dull the pain and get on with my work.