Torn - Part Two (The Torn Series) (2 page)

But luck and timing were on my side - he’d barely gotten an arm around me when I managed to snag his ankle. I turned and immobilized his other leg with my legs and free arm, then twisted his foot around.

I heard him cursing as he tapped me, signaling the end of the round.

“A motherfucking toehold?” he asked once I released him. I stood first and grinned over him. He sounded downright offended.

There were easier moves I could have made for sure - but once I knew I had the upper hand, I liked to get a little fancy. And I couldn’t let Surly’s earlier taunts go unanswered.

I grabbed his wrists and helped him stand. “You could have broken my damn foot,” he grunted.

“What’s a broken foot between friends?” I felt better already. At least I hadn’t lost my touch completely.

He shook his head, then dropped into a fighting stance once more. “Again.”

○●○●○●○●○

The long practice wasn’t solely for my benefit in my upcoming fight against my brother. Surly himself had a match coming up that had the potential to garner a lot of attention. Rumors of scouting were thick in the air around the gym. Everyone was itching for a good match, and everyone was practicing constantly.

Normally that much testosterone and male company in one place set my teeth on edge. Too much tension in the air all the time, like ugly brawls were just waiting to break out over something stupid. Heaven forbid you move someone’s deodorant from a sink to a shelf or send someone’s tape rolling down the locker room’s uneven floor. It was enough to reduce any sane man into a bad-tempered Neanderthal.

I welcomed it, though. After stupidly letting Riley claw her way inside, I was swearing off women for a while. Obviously I was too dumb to handle even a casual non-relationship; I’d gone too soft to just fuck a girl and forget her like I typically liked to do.

All Riley’s fault.

I’d lost my edge. I needed to focus on our fights.

So that night I sent Lockett to take my place playing bodyguard for Riley’s gig. She was a member of Mistresses of Mayhem, a punk cover band that consisted of her and two other girls - one of them being Surly’s sister - and they’d hired me to lurk around the bottom of the stage at their shows. Our third roommate was looking to make a little extra cash, though, so I sent him along with a “good fucking luck” and went home alone instead.

Home. Our little shared three-bedroom apartment, where the hot water always ran out and the noise of sirens wailing past would keep you from falling asleep at night. Where Riley had left behind accidental souvenirs after her visits - pieces of jewelry, chapstick, and somehow, a sock.

I hadn’t been able to bring myself to toss it all out yet. I should have sent it back with Lockett that night. Instead I let the little reminders all sit on my dresser as if waiting for her.

“So goddamn stupid,” I muttered to myself as I swept her things into a drawer. At least I wouldn’t have to stare at them there. “Get it together, dumbass.”

I should have been more stressed out about my big fight, just under a month away. But I was stuck, still trapped inside that moment just a few days ago when I went up to her apartment and found her kissing her ex.

I’d always sort of suspected she’d end up back with him, but goddamn, I did
not
need to witness it.

And I couldn’t seem to get the hell over it, either.

CHAPTER 2

“Please don’t quit the band. Promise I won’t be weird. I was scared without you there.” I already had a headache when I woke up that morning and Riley’s early-morning text only made it worse. I considered not replying at all - a cardinal sin in her book - but finally tapped out a quick message, curious as to what could have scared her.
Not that I care,
I lied to myself.

“Did Lockett do a shit job or something?” I sent back.

She replied right away, “No,” followed by, “Nevermind, sorry to bother you, shouldn’t have said anything.”

Her apologies were starting to drive me crazy. When she couldn’t catch up to me after I stormed out of her apartment, I was assaulted with a flurry of messages - “Oh my God it’s not what you think,” “Tyler started it, I pushed him away,” “I’m sorry,” “I’m so sorry,” “I’m really sorry, please say something.”

Truthfully I was more angry at myself for being so into her than I was at her for doing the inevitable. The very first time we spent any significant time together, she went on and on about her ex and how she wanted to get back together. For fuck’s sake, they were living together.

I sighed as I glared down at my phone. I hated to admit it but if something or someone had done something to scare her - or to hurt her - I sure as hell wanted to know. The thought of it made me want to blindly attack whatever the threat was.

“When’s your next show?” I tapped out with angry jabs.
Such a sucker. Such an idiot.

“Friday. The Beehive, kinda near Chinatown. I think.”

“I’ll find it.”

I tossed my phone onto my bed and left the room, uninterested in carrying on a conversation. I was sure she’d fill my ear plenty on Friday.

Lockett was lounging on the couch when I shuffled towards the kitchen. That brief exchange had been too much brainpower considering I hadn’t had any coffee yet. “Hey,” he said, scratching his bare stomach. The huge man never seemed to wear a shirt indoors. Sometimes not even outdoors. He liked to show off his dark tattoos a little too much. “Made extra coffee.”

“Thanks.” I had a rare moment of appreciating having roommates.

I stood next to the TV once I had a full mug. “How’d it go last night?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Fine. Their music’s terrible, though.”

I bristled but I bit my tongue. “Anything happen?”

He smirked. “You want to know how Riley is?” I rolled my eyes but gestured for him to go on. “I dunno, she was okay, I guess. Seemed jumpy. Asked about you but I wouldn’t tell her anything.”

I nodded. “Just curious. She texted this morning and said she was scared so I wondered if something went down.”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

What was the problem, then?
Well, I’d find out on Friday.

○●○●○●○●○

The day did not improve. Our upcoming match meant I was on my brother’s radar and he sought me out that morning. I found him waiting for me outside of Lee’s Gym.

“Mike,” he said with a nod.

“It’s Mal,” I said, eying him up and down. He was only marginally taller than me but it may as well have been a foot for the way I felt. We had similar features - the straight noses (at least they had been previous to numerous breaks), the green eyes. He had a more severe brow and a more pronounced scowl but no one would mistake us for anything but brothers.

He shrugged. “If you insist. Mallet. Let’s do breakfast.” He walked off before I could reply, making me chase him down to keep talking.

“What the hell for?”

“I can’t take my little brother to breakfast?”

“It isn’t ‘taking me’ if you make me pay, Tony,” I grumbled, hating my petulant tone, but dammit, he’d done this to me before. We were only two years apart and somehow he always reduced me to that sniveling ten-year-old he used to practice his fight moves on.

“Don’t be a dick.” He led the way inside a corner deli that had a row of unoccupied seats at the front window.
Why does he always have to do this? Why can’t he just tell me whatever it is he wants to tell me without wrapping it up in an asshole package?
That was Tony’s way, though - all I could do was wait him out.

He bought us both coffee and egg sandwiches and we sat at the window, him with a smug grin on his face and me practically vibrating with impatience.

But I bit my tongue and sipped the coffee. I wouldn’t let him goad me into getting pissed off. He enjoyed it too much.

“Getting ready for the big fight?” he asked, nudging me with his elbow.

“Gonna kick your ass,” I said.

“Still working with that same grumpy bastard?”

“Surly. Yeah.” I glared at him sideways. Surly was more of a brother to me than Tony ever was.
Go ahead. Say something shitty about my friend. Give me an excuse to break that smug nose.

But he veered away, off onto another topic, as always trying to keep me off-balance. “Any good pussy lately?”

I looked down at my sandwich and sighed. At least he didn’t know Riley - he couldn’t insult someone he’d never met. “Loads of it,” I said, “Why? Running out in your shitty little neighborhood? Come to take my leftovers?”

But he’d caught my hesitation. “Aha. So who is she?”

“She’s none of your business.”
Shit.

He chuckled. “I’d like to meet her.”

“It’s over.”
It was over before it started.

“Aww. You sad, little brother?” He patted my back, harder than necessary. My coffee sloshed over my hand. “I sure hope it doesn’t fuck up your game. I’d love to have a fair match for once. What was it last time, when I kicked your ass? You had your panties in a twist about something.”

“About our grandmother dying, you piece of shit,” I snarled. I pushed my stool back from the counter. It was years ago - even before our mother passed. But even Tony knew not to broach that subject.

“Dad’s coming to the fight.” He dropped that bomb before I could even slide off my seat.

“Just one thing after another with you, isn’t it,” I said, frozen in place. I hadn’t seen our father in years. I didn’t
want
to see him. And I’d thought that Tony felt the same way, but apparently they’d been keeping in touch.

He shrugged. “Thought you’d like to know.”

“Yeah. Thanks. You could have just sent an email, but okay.” I grabbed my sandwich and stood. I didn’t want it anymore but someone at the gym would appreciate it.

“Leaving so soon?”

I couldn’t even answer. Rage boiled in my veins. He’d done it again - gotten inside my head, gotten me all wound up. I needed a good hard practice and then a good stiff drink. I left without another word, his chuckles stabbing my brain like a hundred needles.
God, how I hate him.

I had to beat him. I had to. This couldn’t go on any longer. It didn’t take much to shut down a bully once you knew where to hit. Losing to me would break his poor dumb brain.

No. It would not stand. I didn’t let anyone else push me around, he shouldn’t get a free pass just because he was family. I’d cut the rest of them off - I could beat him and then cut him off, too.

○●○●○●○●○

I told Surly about our little breakfast meeting, which immediately put him in a foul mood. “I’m practicing with someone else today,” he grunted, looking around the locker room. It was busy, full of men getting ready for practice. Men with heavy muscles and angry faces, bruised and scarred and just like us. “If your head ain’t in the game you’re just gonna hold me back. Where’s Lockett?” Our roommate was in a different weight class but we practiced together anyway sometimes, figuring if we could take on the tattooed behemoth, a guy our own size would seem easy in comparison.

“My head’s in it, Surly. I need to do this. I
have
to beat him.”

“I’ve got my own shit to take care of, Mallet.”

I nodded. He was right, of course. It did neither of us any good if I held him back. Maybe my intention was to practice my heart out, but I could just as easily get out there and just choke.

He watched me strap on my gloves. “Well. Sorry your brother’s a dick. Let’s go.”

“You just said-”

“Nevermind. Just try to concentrate, okay?”

I nodded. For all his big talk and brash attitude, Surly always had my back. And I always had his. And Tony could go fuck himself.

My head was finally in it, though, once we got into the ring. Surly and I gave each other a good workout. I taunted him and made him take more risks; he encouraged me to concentrate on defending myself better. We were a good balance - if this was a team sport, we’d make a killing.

At the very least, Tony’s impromptu visit had gotten Riley out of my head for the moment.

“Drinks after practice?” I said to Surly. I held the heavy punching bag for him while he battered with it left and right crosses, one after another in an inexhaustible flurry.