So, how do we like FighterWard? Isn't he swoon-worthy? Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the first chapter and now, we're going to find out more ... What happened to our dear FighterWard?
What I own: A 2016 Green Honda Pilot (just submitted my final payment! YES!)
What I don't: Twilight
Chapter Three
Four Months Later
Balancing his workout bag on his shoulder, Edward glanced up at Volterra Fighting Club. It was a high-end, elite boxing gym that was the home to several champions. However, Edward was not as comfortable continuing his contract with the Volturi. The only one he trusted was Marcus.
Caius, who had been his coach since he became a professional boxer, lost that trust. With the situation surrounding that last fight, Edward would rather walk away.
Aro, Caius's older brother and Edward's agent, also lost his trust because he was not concerned with the migraines Edward experienced daily while he recovered from the beat down he'd received from the blacklisted Demetri Romanoff.
Marcus had been his only ally and advocate.
"Do I even want to continue to do this?" Edward asked, looking at the gym.
He'd only gotten into boxing to pay for his freedom. His father, after his mother died, became worthless. He was a drunk and lost everything, including Edward's college fund. So, he had to find a way to get money and working at McDonald's would not give him the opportunity to go to college. He got a scholarship to Northwestern since he was smart as hell, but he could not afford it, even with the scholarship.
All that changed when he found a flyer for an amateur fight where the winning purse was well over $20,000. Edward was not a fighter, but he had dabbled in wrestling and was quick on his feet. He scraped together the entrance fee and watched as many YouTube videos as possible. The night he graduated from high school, Edward won that purse and was able to leave the dump he'd lived in with his loser father. He left a thousand dollars to help his dad, but after that, Edward Sr. was no longer his concern.
With the rest of his winnings, he was able to pay for his first semester of university, a small apartment, and books for his classes. Edward continued his amateur fights, bankrolling his education and making a name for himself. He majored in business, with a minor in finance, graduating first in his class.
At his last fight as an amateur, an older gentleman approached him. Edward's roommate and sometimes coach, Garrett, recognized the man right away as Aro Volturi, owner of Volterra. Aro was impressed with his wins and style, but wanted to take his fighting to the next level. Edward tried to explain that he was not in fighting for the long haul, but when Aro waved a six-figure signing bonus, Edward agreed and jumped at fighting professionally.
The rest was, as they say, history.
Unfortunately, Edward was stuck in a contract and now he was fearing for his health.
And, his sanity.
His girlfriend was driving him bonkers with her constant chatter, complaining that he wasn't working anymore, and he never left the house.
I have a concussion and possibly brain damage. Not to mention a fucked-up arm ... would it kill you to be kind to me? Let me heal in my condo?
He was ready to pull the trigger on kicking her to the curb, ending their four-year long relationship. He was over it.
All of it.
"Edward, son, don't just stand out here," Aro crooned smarmily. "We've missed you." He sidled up to Edward and guided him into the gym, where music was blaring and the fighters were working out, stretching, or sparring. "We've made some upgrades. What do you think?"
Edward squinted his eyes. The halogen bulbs aggravated his head, along with the too loud music of Five Fingered Death Punch. "Is the mural new?" he asked, pointing to a painting of Muhammed Ali.
"Yes! He's been one of my heroes for a long time," Aro gushed. "His daughter walked through the gym, considering on training here."
"What did she say?" Edward asked.
"She hasn't responded, but she seemed interested," Aro nodded. "Now, Caius ..."
"I told you," Edward huffed. "I don't trust Caius. Not after that fight with Demetri. I'd prefer to train with someone else."
"You've been with my brother for as long as you been with us," Aro wheedled. "He wants only the best for you."
"And the best was for me to start training while I was recuperating from a concussion. Marcus said I wasn't cleared to go ahead full. You said you'd abide by his recommendations," Edward argued. "I can begin strength training and working on my footwork. I'm not cleared for sparring."
"Marcus coddles you," Aro sneered.
"I was in a medically induced coma for four days, Aro. My brain swelled," Edward sneered back. "All because Demetri had on brass knuckles." Edward shook his head. "I'll come back next week. I'll continue working out in my gym in my condo. I know Garrett wouldn't mind working with me."
Edward turned on his heel, ignoring Aro's sputtering. He sent a text message to his former roommate and coach, asking if he was willing to work with him. Garrett worked as a physical therapist and had helped him all throughout his recovery. Garrett replied that he couldn't since he had a busy day, but would make time the following day. Edward responded with a thumbs up, hopping into his car and drove back to his condo near Millennium Park, overlooking Lake Michigan.
How far he'd come from the shithole in Ravenswood ... living in a moldy garden apartment.
Parking his car, he saw that Victoria's red Ferrari was still in its spot. She said that she had plans and would be out for most of the day. Shaking his head, he rode up to his condo and went inside. The place was ostentatious, over the top. But, it was his. Yes, Victoria lived with him and contributed to the living expenses (electricity and a part of the condo assessments), but he owned this condo. It was only in his name.
He walked to the fridge, pulling out a protein shake. He heard some squeaking from his bedroom, along with a moan. Edward put the shake onto the kitchen counter, walking to the bedroom and opened the door. Victoria, naked as the day she was born, was being plowed by another man.
A blond man, with rippling muscles, tattoos on his tanned skin and a square jaw that was clenched as he thrust in and out.
In his bed.
"Fuck my ass, Jimmy," Victoria whimpered. "Fuck me so hard. You're the only one who can make me come."
"Really?" Edward deadpanned. "You've told me that before. Obviously, you can come with anyone with a dick."
Victoria's eyes flew open, and she saw her boyfriend leaning casually against the door frame of room. Despite his casual stance, she saw the fire and hurt in his eyes. "Eddie?"
Edward's gaze swept down her body, which was as fake as their relationship, to the man still thrusting into Victoria. He was disgusted, thoroughly repulsed at what he was seeing. "You have ten minutes to get your shit out of my condo and leave. If you don't, I'll have you arrested for trespassing. Don't call me. Don't try to weasel your way out of this. We're done."
"You know, man, you could join us," Jimmy smirked, palming Victoria's breasts. "Her pussy is all primed ..."
"Hmmmm, nope. Her pussy is diseased," Edward growled, pushing away from the door jamb. "You may want to get tested. You're riding her bare. She gets around. Normally, she fucks guys at their place. The last time we fucked, I wore a rubber, but even then, I got tested. Now? I wouldn't touch her with my drunk dad's dick. Eight minutes."
He walked into the room, disappearing into the closet. He began throwing Victoria's name brand clothing onto the floor. Gucci, Prada, Dior, Cavalli ... all in a heap. A few moments later, he strolled past them as they were rushing to get dressed and went into the bathroom. A bathroom littered all of Victoria's serums and shit on the counter, in the shower and inside the medicine cabinet. With a sweep of his arm, her makeup landed on the tile floor, shattered, and mixed together. "Four minutes," he sang.
He sat down on one of the couches in his bedroom and watched the time tick by. Victoria tried to cram her clothes into one of the suitcases. "That's mine, Vicky," he smirked.
"How the fuck am I supposed to carry all of this out?" she wailed.
"Not. My. Problem," Edward answered. "Now I understand why you were so pissed at me while I recovered from my concussion, for being home so much. Your booty call couldn't meet your sexual needs – cramping your style."
"I'm more than a booty call," Jimmy argued.
"Well, whatever you are, you have two more minutes to get the fuck out of my house. Oh, and you can't have the Ferrari," Edward said to Victoria. "It's in my name."
"B-B-B-B-But?" Victoria stammered.
Edward stood up, glaring at the woman who had broken his last strand of trust. "You fucked with the wrong guy, Vicky. Times up."
He found Victoria's purse, taking out her keys and took off her condo key and the key for the Ferrari. Jimmy found a shabby duffel and he'd stuffed it with her clothes. Victoria was blubbering as Jimmy helped her out of the condo. As soon as they were gone, Edward contacted the condo association, asking if they could arrange to change his locks. He also removed Victoria from the list of approved residents.
When he was done with that, he dialed Marcus and told him that he was done. No more Volterra. No more fighting.
Just no more ...
It wasn't worth the fight.
A/N: We're going to hear from Edward for one more chapter and then we'll meet Bella and her crew ... pictures from this chapter are on my blog. Link is in my profile. I'm also on FB: Tufano79's Twilight Fanfiction Appreciation. Twitter, too: tufano79.
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