Crossing the gangster

chapter 25

I winced as pain unflowered in my knuckles from the rapid hitting without boxing gloves but it was a way to escape my frustration and pain.

The phone call had struck me in a way nothing else had and it pulled on one of my sensitive strings.

Was this why no one loved me?

I was just a mistake, one that caused the love of my parents to fade out and one that took smith away from his bubble of joy and security.

It was a bubble I had once basked in but now, looking back at the good memories I had many many years ago, I felt like a dirty intruder. That wasn't my happiness to savour.

I no longer had control over how my life played out and it infuriated me like no other. I gritted my teeth as I got up for another round at escaping from the problems pressing down upon me.

My knuckles dripped blood on the mat but at this point I was uncaring about anything, just focusing on the target in front of me.

It gave me a sense of control, something my mind desperately craved.

It was like my tidal of emotions had been coated with a blanket of numbness and all that was left in my head was a flurry of thoughts.

He wasn't my father

He wasn't my father

He wasn't my father

Those words rang over and over again so many times that they had lost the emotional attachment it once had. It was just four words, four words that made me lose my feelings second by second as I took them all out mercilessly on the punching bag.

I didn't even know how many hours I had been holed up in here but if I were to go by pure judgement, it had to be at least six.

Blake had come in, tried to talk with me out of the room and for something to eat but had left immediately when he had seen the state I was in.

He didn't know how to calm me down for he hadn't experienced being lied to, I don't think, for he blanched at the sight of me releasing my wrath.

Either that or it was my monstrous expression that stuck on my face for the first three hours, though now my slate was blank, unexpressive.

Speaking of the devil, the door opened behind me and I clenched my eyes in frustration for a mere moment, stopping the bean bag before using my shirt to wipe the sweat staining my shirt.

"Just leave me alone, " I hissed through my teeth as I stared out the window, waiting for the click of the door to sound again as he left me alone. Yet, footsteps continued its path towards me and I let out a small groan.

Human interaction felt like poison towards me now and I just wanted to hole up in a room, bleeding out my own pain and tormented by my memories.

It was better than talking to people and all the while can't help but feeling jealous when I know I shouldn't be.

Most people probably knew their father or if not, didn't live a life of lies and deceit. I hated that I had to face this and knew that I Most people probably knew their father or if not, didn't live a life of lies and deceit. I hated that I had to face this and knew that I would have preferred the truth to start with, even if it took away the glimpses I had of fatherly love when I was younger.

I turned around, slightly exasperated that the person just stood there, only to feel Chris's penetrating gaze latch onto me.

Why was it that even at this moment, butterflies unfurled in the pit of my stomach?

Shouldn't this reveal be enough to keep them away but sadly, hormones didn't bow down to anyone and mine clearly didn't want to stay away whenever chris was near.