The Secret Behind His Fists

Chapter 6- Mad World Part 2

Pax's POV-

Standing there, I watch her go. It's all I can do to not rush after her and pull her into my arms, but my feet won't seem to move. When she disappears around a corner, I can feel water dripping down my face. Derrick comes up from behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder, "Don't let them see you cry, brother." I looked at him inquisitively; I thought it was just rain. I hastily wiped my eyes, take a deep breath, and walk back in the house. I see blood everywhere, brand new bullet holes in the recently plastered walls, and five body bags. As if I didn't have enough to deal with. I wave off the crew trying to approach me and head straight for the liquor cabinet, uncapping and downing half a bottle of whiskey. I stomp into the office next-door and pick up the phone, dialing the number of the only person that can help me. Father will not be pleased. When he doesn't answer, I leave him an urgent voicemail. I then take a deep breath, pulling together every nerve I have left, and go to deal with the duties that have been set before me.

It's been nearly a month now, and not even Father has found a trace of her. I thought she may try to reach out to Hannah or Celeste, but they are as clueless as he is. Sitting out on the back patio, I look up at the stars, hoping that somewhere, she's looking at them, too. I take another big swig of the bottle in my hand, and pass it to Derrick, who can't seem to mind his own goddamn business. He slurs as he says, "Listen man, I'm just saying, there are plenty of girls out there who would love to get a piece of you. You barely even knew her, you spent all of, what, 15 minutes with her? Not counting when she was unconscious. Just let it go."

I feel the rage growing inside me with every word he says. I rip the bottle out of his hands and let the monster out, "You DON'T know what it's like. You still HAVE YOUR LOVE. HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF YOU LOST HANNAH?! IF YOU WOULD JUST GET OFF YOUR ASS AND BE A MAN SHE WOULD BE HERE RIGHT NOW WITH YOU! INSTEAD YOU'RE HERE BITCHING TO ME ABOUT HOW i NEED TO MOVE ON?! WHAT ABOUT YOU?!" I take a few gulps from the bottle and smash it on the ground.

Another 2 months have rolled by with no sign or word of her, it's like she's vanished into thin air. I try to put my thoughts aside as I step into the ring. This is the rematch I've been waiting for, and I'm fired-up more than ever before. Memphis isn't going to know what hit him. I stand there seemingly calm, cracking my neck and glaring at my opponent. I can hear the crowd somewhere off in the distance, but right now, it's just him and me. I square my shoulders and put up my fists, ready to go. Ding. He comes at me quick with a left jab, which I dodge and counter with a hard blow to the side. Man that felt good. He regains his footing as he comes in for a back-to-back roll of punches. Suddenly feeling a wave of hope rush over me, I slam into him, hard. While he's off-balance, I land blow after blow into his sides and face. Wailing on him unlike any other opponent. I can see the blood flying from his mouth and soaking through the bandages wrapped around my hands. That's when I see something. Beautiful silky brown hair, the hair that I've been waiting for. BAM! He lands a hard blow on my jawline while I was distracted. I feel the anger well up inside me once again, and I let him have it. I sweep his legs out from under him and beat his face in.

I can feel his broken ribs beneath my weight and I push down harder, then silence his attempted scream with one final blow to the right side of his face. Breathing heavily, I stand up, staring down at the now unconscious traitor. Broken ribs, broken jaw, and most likely a few teeth missing. Nice. Flashing back to the brown hair, I search the crowd for her face, not even caring about the best win I've ever had. I just want to look into her beautiful eyes and run my fingers through those luscious locks. I run over to Derrick, and demand that he search the entire arena for her. He tries to protest until he glances back at Memphis, then he barks orders through a walkie-talkie. I can see the shadows of my crew as they quietly hunt for the missing piece of my heart. They all radio back; no sign of her.

A few weeks later I am still confused and angry. Did I see her? Didn't I? I couldn't be sure; maybe I just imagined it? I'm pacing back and forth in my bedroom, trying to get my head on straight. No easy task. There's a knock at the door and, surprise surprise, it's Derrick. "What the hell do you want now?" He comes in and slams the door behind him, facing me with intent in his eyes. "You need to GET THE HELL OVER HER! YOU'RE OBSESSED AND LETTING IT RUIN YOUR LIFE! IT'S UNHEALTHY AND IT'S EFFECTING THE WAY YOU RUN THIS CREW! SHE IS ONE GIRL OUT OF THOUSANDS IN THIS CITY! PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, NOW! In the blink of an eye I was on top of him. I had him pinned beneath my legs and was smashing my fists into each side of his face. I know that I was screaming, but I couldn't hear anything over the sound of my heart beating in my ears. When I was finally done, we both lie there completely out of breath. Me from punching and him from taking the beating.

After a few minutes, he struggles to say something. He barely whispers, but I can hear it clear as day, "She's just another MMA w***e like the rest of them. She doesn't want this life." I punch him one more time, breaking his nose in the process, before storming out. Out of my room, down the stairs, shoving every person in my path. I rip the door open, it practically flies off the hinges where I freeze dead in my tracks. It's her.

"Hi." She speaks, barely above a whisper. I stood there a moment, obviously dumb-founded, before I pull her tightly into my arms. I whisper back, "Hi."