Cell Mates 2 - Dead Men Tell No Tales (boyxboy) ON HOLD

Chapter 3: Puzzle pieces

Chapter 3

He was on the ground before he could take another breath, but he was up just as quickly—rattled but clearly still willing to take a beating. If this is what he called putting up a fight, then he had no place in this business.

We circled each other, bouncing on our feet almost like an ancient dance, moving closer then further away until he finally lashed out, throwing a punch which I dodged easily. He was almost unsteady on his feet, his mind clearly muddled from the alcohol I was pretty sure he’d consumed before coming here. I gritted my teeth. Sometimes he really knew how to piss me off.

I grabbed his arm when he threw another weak punch and twisted until he cried out, but just as I made to loosen my hold, he elbowed me in the ribs and I stumbled back. He grinned, a wide satisfied spread of the lips and my anger grew.

“You think that’s anything to be proud of? You coming in here late and drunk off your ass?” I shot

His smile fell. “I told you, I had something to take care of.”

“Yeah…and hitting up a bar was obviously more important than our sparring session.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t like that.”

I swept a foot under his and he went down like a log and when he was on his feet again, I was in his face just as quickly. A jab to his right side, a punch to his uncovered face and finally a roundhouse kick to the chest that sent him sprawling. I was gracious enough to let him pull himself up from the floor.

“Just give me a second to catch my b—”

Another swift punch and he stumbled—then another and another, each time willing him to put up a fight, willing him to defend himself the way he knew how, but he was useless and the more I had to deal with this shit, the angrier I became.

He pushed up from the ground, clutching his side and when I moved, he put up a hand to ward me off. “Just wait I—”

“You think some asshole out on the street is gonna wait till you’re ready before they take you down?”

Another jab to the chest, then another. The third time he managed to block me and I tackled him to the ground, my legs wrapped tightly around his, one arm twisted behind his back and his face pressed to the floor.

He struggled, fighting desperately to throw me off and I wrapped an arm around his neck, forcing him to find a way to free himself. When he tried to elbow me, I rolled until I was on my back, arm still wrapped around his neck holding him prisoner. He was facing the ceiling and I could already see the veins standing up in his forehead as he tried desperately to free himself, but my hold didn’t budge, and too soon, he stopped fighting all together.

“Don’t you fucking tap out, find a way out.” I cursed in his ear and he tried, then tried again and failed miserably.

“Jesus Christ Sy, free yourself.” I urged him and a second later, he tapped out. I released him, shoving him from me none too gently.

I got to my feet, standing over him as he lay there out of breath and clutching his side.

“I don’t think I’m willing to wait for you to take this shit seriously.”

He sat up and ran his free hand through his mussed hair.

“Gimmie a break Ed. When’ve I ever not taken this seriously? So I had a drink before I came, what the fuck is the big deal? I’m here almost every night bustin’ my ass on this floor with you.”

“And you feel proud of what you just did? You’re so shit-faced you can’t even stand up straight!”

His eyes narrowed and I shook my head.