Split Blood: Rise of the Wolf (Book #2) - COMPLETE

CHAPTER 1 - THE RAGE WITHIN (Part 9)

CHAPTER ONE – THE RAGE WITHIN

(Part Nine)

  

My father shuffled over to him with determination and put his grubby hand on Greg’s uneasy shoulder as his alcohol-infused breath brought moisture to Gregor’s tainted eyes. ‘Well, it’s either you tell me how I can find out more or Lou stays here with me and doesn’t go to school. Your choice,’ he growled as a blackmailed Gregor looked over at my panicked face and admitted defeat.

He stopped his retreat and sat my excited father down on the rickety chair as he explained that the Strages were started by an old werewolf who had debts that he needed to clear, so he set up these underground werewolves and Lycan only fight clubs to pay off his overdue balances. Each fighter would pay an entry fee of ten pounds and half of the entry fee would be put aside for the prize money and half would go to him. The fights started off in his barn until one werewolf died and the authorities got suspicious, so now only members knew where the locations would be as they changed every month.

My father sat back on his chair with a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘I know about these fights. I’ve been involved in these types of battles before.’ He sighed as he put his head in his grimy hands.

I looked at Gregor in shock, as I hadn’t seen this emotional side of my father since my mother had died, as he looked suspicious of my father’s new-found sentiment.

However, it all came flowing back to me.

The heartrending story, my mother’s ghost had told me, about her accidental death at the hands of my father: she had followed him to an alley one night, as he had finished his latest underground fight, had caught him off guard and had been killed by his own hands as he had thought she was another attacker coming to steal his prize money.

The memories that I had blocked out for so long, of seeing my mother that day for the last time and still having my grandparents with me, punched a hole in my chest as I regarded the sorry excuse for my father slumped on the chair as he smiled with the thought of going back into the underground fighting scene and winning more money.

The remaining yellow-stained teeth that protruded from his chapped mouth signalled the dark thoughts swirling round in his head as he fantasised about how much money he could win in these battles.

Observing the cunning expression on my father’s malevolent face, I ran over to Gregor in the hope he would take me with him. He held me close and promised me I could always come to him if I needed help, before solemnly opening the door and allowing the red dusk light to enter the shadowy hallway and expose the perturbing situation with an unsettling glow.

My father wiped the forced tear from his eye and stood up, staring at Gregor with composure and a new sinister icy glare.

Using the wall, he shuffled over to Gregor and put his hand on his shoulder. ‘I want in,’ he whispered as Gregor looked at me with sympathy and whispered the information my father needed. He thanked Gregor with a devious smile before shutting the door and turning his incensed attention to me.

Luckily he was too drunk to run after me so I used his lack of speed to my advantage as I ran to the smoke-damaged stairs and carefully navigated my way past the missing steps as I attempted to get to my bedroom.

Throwing a chair in my direction, it shattered at the bottom of the steps, stopping me in my tracks.

Scrambling to get over the splinters of wood that smashed metres from me, I managed to avoid my father’s grasp as I jumped up the stairs in bounds of two at a time as some of the more damaged steps crumbled beneath the weight of my bounce and the jagged wood pierced and tore my tender flesh when my foot went through them. ‘I’m not going to beat you, boy,’ he bellowed as I stopped at the top, ensuring there was a safe distance between us in case he changed his mind.

He threw the broken pieces of wood out of his way and held onto the wobbly stairway rail to steady himself. Pointing at me with a shaky finger, he stated, ‘I have no use for you if you are damaged, so get some rest as tomorrow brings lots of new beginnings for us now,’ before letting out a scheming chuckle and returning to the kitchen as I wondered what treacherous plan he had in store for me and if it was worth trying to sleep tonight.

Going through, in my head, numerous scenarios and schemes he had made me do in the past, I resolved to just be happy that I was not going to get punished for alerting someone else to our presence and went to bed as I pondered what school would be like and if all the children would be like the group at the sweet shop.

Unfortunately, this question would not be answered for another three years as I quickly found out what my punishment for being with Gregor was, as my father stated I needed to win back his trust and with this he contacted a man about the Strages and enrolled me in the under eighteens’ fights while he reaped the rewards for my successes and I managed to use all my hatred for this despicable man to create maximum damage on another young unsuspecting Lycan as there was no other way to release my rage.

Maybe the fairies’ dust remained in my system longer than I thought or maybe I was a good fighter, but whatever reason was behind my ninety-nine per cent success rate, I was grateful, as, with every fight I won, my father would use the reward money on more alcohol and was usually too drunk to realise I was there, which decreased the number of beatings and verbal attacks.

We continued to stay at the vacant house until the authorities caught us and threatened my father with jail if he didn’t send me to school.

Begrudgingly, my father agreed as the fights stopped after I broke another werewolf’s jaw and his alcohol income dissolved with it.

Along with stealing to find money to help him return to his inebriated state, father managed to find us an unused townhouse to occupy for the short term, before he took me to view three schools and settled on the one that asked the least questions.

At thirteen years old, I knew already that even though I was scared of being around other children, as I was still unable to control my abilities, anything was going to be better than staying in this hell with my father.

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