The Mystery Fighter II

The Mystery Fighter II (1)

Thanks for all the support and love for both the first and this book! Although I don't always reply to every comment, I definitely read every single one and want you to know how grateful I am to have you read my story.

Enjoy♡

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Taking a deep breath, I inhaled the humid air around me. Because of the strength of the blazing sun combinedwith the lack of wind, the air felt somewhat clogged. From behind my sunglasses, I could see the river running past the foot of the hill. It was stretching straight ahead, slithering its way between the hilltops and smaller mountains; probably disappearing into a bigger ocean. It lay peaceful, almost unmoving, as the surface glittered from the rays of the sun.

The black motorcycle helmet hung between my bent knees, my fingers fiddling with the straps. 

I was leaning back against the side of my motorcycle, its front facing the small clearing we just came from. Taking a cigarette out of my jacket pocket, I lit it up before putting the filter into my mouth and breathing in, my eyes never leaving the peaceful scenery in front of me.

I rolled the cigarette around with my tongue before reaching one hand up to take it out momentarily, breathing out a cloud of smoke. My eyes followed as the cloud rose towards the sky, steadily spreading and thinning out before vanishing completely.

I couldn't stop my mind from drifting past the beauty of the view to something else; an image digging its way into my vision from the back of my head. The image that had made me turn my back to the fighting ring and retreat to the storage room after the fight.
The image of Kingston's shocked and almost horror-struck face lighting up in recognition as he realized who he had been fighting.

I knew he was the type of guy that absolutely needed to know everything going on, even the things that had nothing to do with him. I couldn't understand that; a truly ridiculous and weak trait to have.

During the short and straight forward explanation, my mind automatically imagined having my hands around his neck, wanting to make him squirm and leave without any questions.

Instead, I told him a story he absolutely had no business hearing.

I learnt how to fight at a young age. I never did afford to go to any combat training schools, so I turned to fighting on the streets to challenge myself.
I didn't want any of them to know who I was, because I didn't want to have any school connections invade my hobby. Yes, it was me the whole time. No, I was not sent here on any kind of spy mission.

Then he asked some more intimate questions: How do your parents feel about the illegal street fighting? Or haven't you told them? With your skills, you could easily get into any kind of professional classes, you know. Have you thought of that?
I had simply stared back.

He had looked away for a second, a thoughtful expression on his face.
He turned back to me. "Are you doing this for the money?"

I didn't answer, already turning away, taking the apple from the counter in the process.

"Julian? Hey, man, what are you doing back here?" Travis stepped through the push door leading from the bar to the storage room. I could feel his gaze land on my form as I froze. "Ehm, did I interrupt something?"

The silence that followed was tense.

"Wait, you know?"

Against my better judgement, I turned around.

Julian was staring back and forth from Travis and me, one of his eyebrows lifted.

"How come-"