Chapter 21

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Tyson POV

I push the front door out of the way, slamming it shut. Anger pulses through me and my hands shake. A need to do something makes me take the keys of the car out of my pocket and I run to the car, forcefully opening the door. I run my hands through my hair then, trying to calm myself, but it doesn't work. It just makes it worse. I enter the car, slamming the door shut. I don't usually drive the car but I don't think I'm in the right state of mind to take the motorcycle.

My mind runs though everything my mom said and the people I've met. My anger grows and boils within me, burning me up and filling me whole. My skin heats up and my head itches. Along with the anger comes this need to hurt. This need to have someone hurt me. To just watching myself bleed.

I drive straight to the gym with a boxing ring that I go to when my anger gets the best of me.

I take my phone out, sending Xavier a text. He's usually my boxing partner when I'm like this. When I press send, I notice that my hands are shaking. Fuck, this is fucked up. This ain't right. Fuck.

I walk into the building, heading straight for gym. I head to the changing room, removing my shirt. I ask one of the people working there for a pair of shorts and they lend me one without saying a word. My anger hasn't decreased in the slightest. I put the shorts on and head to the gym.

Finding the first punching bag I can, I punch it, letting out all my anger. It isn't enough. I need more. I punch harder, knuckles first. Probably not the best thing but I also need to hurt. I need to see my fists bleed.

I need to hurt. Not want. Need.

I punch again. Harder. Knuckles first. It stings. I do it again. And again. And again. And again.

"You sure you don't need a glove?" someone asks me, looking at me weirdly. I didn't come here for this. I punch the bag again.

I punch, harder and faster each time, trying my best to burn everything out of my mind. It doesn't work, but my knuckles are stinging and it's so satisfying.

I keep punching. The sounds I make grow louder and louder until I might as well be screaming. Sweat drips from me and my throat itches with thirst. I don't care. I don't. I don't fucking care. My knuckles bleed. I don't care. My vision is woozy. I don't care. I don't care.

"Hey man, you okay?" Xavier's voice says. I turn towards him, my breathing heavy. He isn't dressed for a fight. In fact he looks like he just got out of bed. What the fuck?

"I need to... I need- fuck it I need to fight. What the fuck?" I say, not entirely coherent. I sweep my hand though my sweaty hair and hold it there, trying to collect my thoughts.

"Man, I think we need to talk about this," he says slowly, cautiously. Like I'm an animal about to attack. Like I might hurt him. Why the fuck would I hurt him? Do I look like I'd fucking hurt him?!

"No, can't. Just... so much, my mom she-I just," and then I let out a scream so loud my throat hurts, letting it all out. My deep voice makes it seem more dangerous than frustrated and I'm sure my ragged state doesn't help with that.

"Dude shut the fuck up!" Xavier and Amanda say at the same time.

Amanda?

I look behind him and it's only then that I see Amanda and Tiana standing behind him. Fuck. Fuck no. Fucking hell. No!

Amanda's hugging Tiana, shielding her. From who though? Why would she....

Fucking hell.

"Tiana I'm sorry," I say raggedly, looking at her pleadingly. The anger has faded away and that's never good. What comes after anger is always grief. And I hate grief. It's soul breaking. It kills.

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