“I know someone who’s going to give you a solid ass kicking,” Hunter joked. “Remind me to stay out of Edie’s way for the next couple of days.”
I turned to face the two idiots. “It’s getting harder and harder to find someone to fight me for big money. The odds aren’t profiting enough,” I told them, ignoring the truth about Edie and her fussing.
Lars shrugged a shoulder. “What do you expect, Tal,” he said. “With your fight record, no one’s going to bet against you.”
“Maybe you need to lose a f-” I shot Hunter a lethal look that clearly stated I didn’t lose. He laughed. “It was just a suggestion, dude. Relax.”
I let out a deep breath, realizing I was still a bit amped up over the fight. I looked at my two best friends and smiled. “You know what would really bring in the cas-”
Lars already had a hand up, stopping my thoughts. “As much as I’m positive I can kick your ass, Talon, I don’t need to chance ruining this pretty face of mine, and thus, disappointing the lovely ladies.”
We all laughed because we knew Lars was serious. I always thought their parents named them wrong. Hunter’s name belonged on a pretty boy, where Lars’ named belonged on a tatted-up biker. Hunter was the fighter and didn’t give a shit about much, while Lars was the lover and put more thought into his actions than either Hunter or I did. Now, don’t get me wrong. Lars had a great knuckle game and he could fight just as well as Hunter and I could, he just preferred not to, if he could help it.
I looked over at Hunter, and he threw his hands up too. “Don’t look at me, dude,” he chuckled. “While there are a lot of faces I’d love to smash in, yours isn’t one of them.”
I turned back towards the mirror and examined the damage again. Edie was going to stress, and I hated when she did that. That girl was my entire life and her happiness was paramount to my existence. But, as much as she hated me fighting, I did it for her. “How bad does it look?”
“The teachers have long since ignored the way you come to school sometimes, Tal,” Lars replied. “No one bats an eyelash anymore, but you can’t hide it from Edie. You’re not that lucky, man.”
I snorted. “I’m plenty lucky, asshole.”
I could hear the smile in Hunter’s voice. “Not when it comes to that girl,” he sing-songed.
The pussy.
I turned back towards my friends and shrugged a shoulder. “She’ll get over it,” I said.
“She always does,” Hunter agreed.
Some guy walked in and the crowd noise and music let me know that there were still a lot of people hanging around for the remaining matches. I always fought first because I hated waiting. Anticipation didn’t prime me up for a fight, it just irritated the shit out of me. I was ready to fight the second I walked in the door, and I didn’t like to take the chance that by being the final match, my adrenaline would wane by the time it was my turn. The book makers hated it, but again, I didn’t care.
Being the first match also ensured my fight would be over on the off chance the cops got wind of our location and raided the place. It’s only happened a couple of times, but it has happened. Even though we moved the location for every match, you just never knew who had loose lips. But, most importantly, I had plenty of time to fix my face before having to see Edie.
“I saw Tammy Jones in the crowd,” Lars whistled. “She’s looking good, gentlemen.”
“She always looks good,” Hunter agreed. “It’s her personality that leaves a lot to be desired.”
Lars threw me a nod. “What says you, Tal?”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t care what statues are being erected in the name of that girl’s pussy, no sex is worth the crazy that comes with that girl, Lars. So, if you’re going there, don’t show up at my house later to hide from her.”
Lars threw me a goofy grin. “It’s not my dick she wants,” he laughed.
“She’s free to want my dick all she wants,” I retorted, “but she’s not getting it.”
Tammy was everything you’d imagine when you think of a hot redhead. She’s tall, with fiery red hair, and a slim, athletic body. But it wasn’t her looks that make her eye-catching. It was the way she carried herself. She acted like she was a queen amongst peasants, and no one can deny that confidence is sexy. On most girls, her attitude might appear bitchy, but on Tammy, it appeared classy. Too bad she’s nuttier than a fruitcake when she rides cock. There have been many guys in town that sought counsel for restraining orders because of the dingbat.
I jerked my head towards the restroom door. “Let’s get out of here and find an ice chest so I can try to keep the swelling down over my eye.”
Lars chuckled. “Now there’s a match that would make money,” he said. “Edie kicking Talon’s ass because we all know he’s scared shitless of her.”
I slapped him on the back of his head as Hunter laughed. “Can we just go? You guys are worse than gossipy old women.”
Hunter opened the door, and we all filed out, joining the rest of the bloodthirsty crowd. I fought because I was good at it and it made me decent money, and that’s it. I wasn’t hot headed or enjoyed physical confrontation, regardless of what people thought.
I fought because I had to.
I fought for Edie.
Chapter 2
The things that shape us.
Talon~
As predicted, Edie gave me all kinds of shit for my face, but as always, I was able to calm her down. It wasn’t like I didn’t understand where she was coming from, but I was a realist where she was a dreamer. She believed things will always work out, one way or another, and I believed things worked out only if we made them work out.
Like my parents’ marriage, for instance. That could have worked out had my father not been a self-absorbed asshole. Hawkley Draven’s dreams were bigger than his reality and, while there’s nothing wrong with that, he forgot the key ingredient to making a person’s dreams come true; hard work. I don’t care what your dream is, but it’s very rare for it to just be handed to you. People had to work to make their dreams come true and Hawk didn’t understand that concept. Instead, he blamed his failed life on his wife and children. You know, because my mother proposed to herself and got herself pregnant.
Twice.
Edie and I were only eleven months apart, but she was still my little sister, and that’s how I’ve always seen her. While she looked like our mother, I looked like our father. However, we both shared the same blue eyes of our mother’s.
My parents divorced when I was eight and Edie was seven, and while Hawkley sent a check every month for child support, my mother’s two jobs were what have kept us from being homeless. I knew the struggles of real-life problems early on and I’ve done my best to help raise Edie to the best of my ability.
It’s the reason I fought for cash.
Edie was smart as a whip and she showed signs of excelled intelligence early in life and, while I had no illusions that I would do anything else in life besides work, Edie was meant to go to college and make something of herself. I started unground fighting on my sixteenth birthday, and I’ve been doing it ever since. Edie’s plans were to apply for grants and scholarships, but she’d still need money for living expenses and stuff like that, so I was making sure that she had all the money she could, the day she takes off for college. If I ended up with a broken skull or crippled, it’d still all be worth it. She was worth it.
My sister knew the same borderline poverty I did. She knew all about broken homes, drug use, and gang infiltration. She knew all this, but she still smiled every morning, and she still volunteered in the neighborhood, and she still saw the good in people. If you pointed out a homeless person who most people viewed as a burden on society, Edie saw someone minding their own business, not out committing crimes or defrauding the welfare system. She saw good everywhere, and I’d do anything to keep that hope alive in her sweet, blue eyes.
As for our mother…well, Helen Draven was neglectful out of necessity. She worked two jo
bs; one full-time as a clerk in a meat packing company, and the other part-time as a maid for a local shady motel. We passed her in between shifts if we were home, and sometimes we could catch her before we went to school, but for the most part, we saw her on Saturday and Sunday mornings only.
It’s been ten years since she and my father divorced, and if she dated, we never knew about it. Mom was a pretty woman with light brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was only 5’1” and built like a fairy pixie. Edie was the splitting image of her, and I thought both the girls in my life were beautiful. Edie’s dream was to make enough money one day, that Mom would no longer have to work two jobs. My reality was to work two jobs as soon as I graduated so that she could quit her maid job. I was okay with working around the clock so Mom could finally breathe. Things had really gotten rough when I had turned eighteen two months ago, and the court-ordered child support stopped. But, much to everyone’s fucking surprise, Hawk had stopped by to hand deliver a check telling Mom that he’d keep paying until I graduated high school. It had felt like a prank at first, but so far, he’s kept true to his word. However, knowing that it wasn’t legally binding, I was still apprehensive about making sure I had enough fights lined up for money.
When I had turned fourteen, a Finley cousin had taken me, Lars, and Hunter to one of the traveling fights. He had snuck us in because he had been high and had thrown caution to the wind. The rules were, you had to be, at least, sixteen years old to fight or watch.
I didn’t remember any of the matches, or the people, but what I did remember was all the money exchanging hands after each fight. For the next two years, Lars, Hunter, and I had snuck into a lot of the fights, and the second I was old enough, I had signed up for my first fight. I had trained two years for it knowing it was what I wanted to do. I’d rather fight than push a broom for minimum wage, but I didn’t want to end up a bloody mess because I didn’t know what I was doing. So, two years in the gym, and a million videos on boxing techniques, I had scheduled my first fight.
And I had won.
I had won, and I’ve been winning ever since.
I’ve raked in close to thirty grand in the past two years, and while I’ve used some of it in the past to get Edie things she really, really needed that Mom couldn’t afford, most of the cash has been set into a savings account for Edie. Now, while thirty grand is a lot of money, it’s nowhere near what Edie needs to last her throughout four years of college. However, what I’m hoping is that, once she gets past that first year, we can regroup and see where we can go from there. She’s even suggested a community college for her first couple of years, but I had suggested we put that idea on hold based on her grant and scholarship approvals.
Now, me? I had good grades, and I was on track to get my high school diploma, but college would never be in the cards for me. I knew early on that I was going to probably live in Lakeside (spoiler alert; there’s no lake in this town) for the rest of my life, working some mundane job, but I was okay with that. I was okay because I was the man of the family, and men did whatever they had to in order to take care of the women in their lives. We were the protectors and the providers, and if Mom wasn’t going to go out and get a man to take care of her…well, then I had to do it. Once Edie graduated college and got her own life, I’d be able to concentrate on getting married and, maybe, having a family. And I had to wait because my wife would never do without because I had other women in my life I needed to put before her. Never.
As for girlfriends? I’ve never had one, and I didn’t want one. Sure, I’ve fucked a couple of girls, here and there, but I’ve never dated a girl. I didn’t have the patience for whining bitches once they realized they’d never come before my mother and sister; especially my sister. I also made sure the handful of chicks I did screw around with knew the score and never laid a hand on my condoms. Nope. No ‘oops babies’ for me, thank you very much.
Lars and Hunter have often commented that I took too much on, but their parents were still together, and while they hung out in the lower-class economical level as I did, their parents shared the adult responsibilities in their household. Neither one of them had to step in and play the role of father to a younger sister, but I’d do it all over again if I had to.
All to see my sister wake up every morning with a smile on her face
∞∞∞
Kenzlee~
Tomorrow was my first day at Lakeside High and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. My father’s spectacular failure had been plastered all over the news, and so, it was highly unlikely that I could get through tomorrow without anyone knowing who I was.
Luckily, I had Alexandria for first period, and that went a long way to settling the butterflies in my stomach. It also helped that I would know, at least, one person there. I wasn’t going to be that new girl sitting alone at lunch. I also had Alex for sixth period, so that was something.
God, what I wouldn’t give to have my brother here with me.
My father, Donovan Mitchell, had made his money in stocks. He was a money manager, and, oh, the irony. He was brilliant at managing other people’s money, but when it came to managing his own…well, we see how that worked out for him.
My mother had fallen into the socialite lifestyle as if she had been born into it. She was the cliché trophy wife, and she spent my father’s money as if it came from never-ending magic. She also insisted that her social networking was just as important as the hours my father put in at the office, so like him, she was never home.
They. Were. Never. Home.
Kaden and I were left to our own devices, and while I spent my free time seeking love and attention from the staff, Kaden had spent his free time drinking, whoring, and drugging it up. It hadn’t started that way though. Kaden hadn’t always been…irresponsible, and I can recall with precise clarity when things had changed for him.
We were fourteen and Kaden had just won MVP of the basketball season. It had been a big deal, and the ceremony was going to be broadcasted on television because Madison Prep had gone undefeated, beating out the district’s favorite. I remember us getting ready to attend the ceremony; Kaden in a three-piece suit, me in a matching dress. The only thing that had made Kaden and I fraternal twins was that, he was born a boy and I was born a girl. Other than that, we looked exactly alike, just a feminine and male version. We both had the same dark, inky black hair, the same light brown eyes, the same shade of skin. We both looked like Dad.
However, I was only 5’1”, where Kaden was already six-foot at the age of fourteen. He had gotten his height from Uncle Allen, because Dad was only 5’11”. Kaden was beautiful, and commanding, and had a larger-than-life personality.
We had ridden to the ceremonies together with the promise from Mom and Dad that they’d meet us there because they didn’t want to chance a delay at the airport. They had both been in New York at the time and a flight to California would be cutting it close even with their own private jet.
I remember arriving at the ceremony. I remember Kaden taking his spot with his team. I remember the pictures, the interviews, the fans, the excitement…all of it. I remember all of it.
I also remember my parents not showing and us getting simultaneous text messages saying they had to cancel because Dad had snagged a business dinner with a very high-profile investor and they couldn’t turn town that once in a lifetime opportunity. They had texted us that they ‘had to cancel’.
They had canceled on their children.
After that, Kaden changed. He started taking our freedom to an entirely different level. He started partying like he was auditioning for an 80’s rock band, but it had all been in vain. Our parents weren’t around to see him self-destruct even though that’s why he was doing it. He was trying to punish them, but how do you punish people who don’t care?
It had gone on for a couple of years before I had gotten a call from Kaden’s girlfriend, Patrice, one night that Kaden wasn’t responding to her. I had rushed to her house and found my brother
wide-eyed and not responsive with a tray of cocaine lying next to him.
Have you ever felt a piece of your soul dying? If not, I hope you never do.
And, to make matters worse, Patrice had offed herself a couple of weeks later because she wasn’t able to handle the guilt. Kaden had always been charismatic, and no matter how many times Patrice tried to right him, one sly wink, one dimpled smile and she caved.
And what did my parents do?
They buried my brother in a quiet, hushed-up ceremony and then smeared Patrice’s good name after she hung herself. They blamed her publicly, painting my brother as a victim to her feminine wiles.
I spent the following year trying to piece my life back together, and I’m still unsuccessful with that. I had lost the only person who loved me unconditionally. I had lost the only person who I could count on and who protected me against the world. Even during his darkest times, Kaden had always made sure I had been taken care of.
But, more than that, I had lost my twin. I had lost, literally, the other half of me. It’s a crippling feeling, that. I imagine that’s how parents feel when they’ve lost a child. It feels as if your soul has been ripped from your body, but because you need your soul to exist, a piece of it is given back to you, only it’s a tattered and torn mess. You’re always going to feel like a tattered and torn mess for the rest of your life because your soul isn’t meant to exist in pieces; it’s supposed to be whole.
And, lucky me, my parents went back to neglecting me, and that’s when I started spending more time with our household staff. The void haunting the house because of Kaden’s absence had been slowly driving me crazy, and I had to do something. I had always gotten along well with the staff, but it was then that I had actually started spending time with them; learning from them.
The Heavier The Chains... Page 2