Tough Luck (Re-Writing)

Chapter 1: The Unwanted Coming Back

Fist, fist, right hook. Dodge to the side, punch.

These are the basics when I'm fighting. Of course with my reflexes, me being a shifter and all, I'm way better than all of the humans. Especially the one I'm fighting right now.

When you stay in a city surrounded by humans, you need some way to release pent up energy. I fight because of this. Although, I won't lie... the money is pretty great, too. Getting bored with my opponent, I bring my knee up to his face. He's out cold before he hits the ground.

The crowd screams my name, "Rave," and I grin while throwing my hands up in the air. They cheer even louder, and my adrenaline rushes through me faster. I jump out of the ring and make my way to the back room, where all of the other fighters are waiting.

"Nice job, Taylors," another fighter named Randy compliments me on my way to the lockers. People either call me Rave, or Raven, which is my middle name and fighting name. Or they call me Taylors, which is my last name. Nobody calls me Kelsey anymore. Not since I joined fighting. I'm on my way to becoming one of the best fighters in the country. Few are in my way of succeeding.

"Thanks, man." I punch him in the shoulder playfully. He winces. I guess I hit him too hard. Damn shifter strength.

"Your phone went off in the locker room. It rang a couple times. Might be Louie." Louie is the mechanic that fixes and holds my many vehicles for me. One of the guys at the race track was angry after I beat him, so he keyed my favorite car. Let's just say that that asshole paid for it and got sent to the hospital. Hopefully Louie has healed my baby already.

"Alright, bro. I'll see you tomorrow night." I walk away and enter the locker room. Immediately, I check my phone. Much to my dismay and shock, a number I haven't seen in years pops up on my missed calls. My old house's home phone number.

Let me explain my shock. When I was thirteen years old, my brother was sent to a school across the country and my parents moved with him. They left me behind, not bothering to tell me why, and I was all alone. A couple months later, I shifted into a big furry animal. A wolf. I thought I was a freak at first. Then one day, as I was going through my parents' stuff, trying to find things to sell to support myself, I came across a journal about shifters. I read every single word. When I finally realized what my whole family is, I was angry and left with so many more questions. Why would they not tell me? I mean sure, I found out even though I thought I was a monster, but I wasn't even supposed to shift until I was at least seventeen or eighteen. I was just thirteen! Given the circumstances, I now had the strength and superior senses in order to hopefully fend for and defend myself.

In that very journal, I learned about packs, alphas, betas, and mates. The mate section was disgusting. The journal says that you basically devote yourself to your mate, soul mate, your one true love, to keep them happy, but there's no way I would ever settle for one.

A couple weeks later, I stumbled across a street fight. A young man, not too much older, asked me what I was doing. I told him I wanted to be a fighter, too. All that time after being abandoned by my family taught me that I was the only person who could truly save myself. It taught me to fight for my life. That's how my whole career began. That's how my career is now.

Being a shifter with enhanced strength and senses led to myself being one of the best fighters and street racers. I bring in a more than sufficient amount of money--thousands of dollars every win. Speaking of money, I need to go get my money right now!

"Randy! Time to pay up! I have business to take care of," I shout while pulling on a t-shirt. Calling back the call I missed, I pick up my duffel bag full of stuff I need for fighting and search for Randy.