PRESENT
My body buzzes with anxiousness as I slide my boxing gloves into place and shake my hands out. Nate comes up behind me and starts massaging my shoulders rapidly, making the experience painful instead of relaxing.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I grumble at him over my shoulder. "Are you massaging me or trying to break my bones?"
"I'm so fucking nervous." He doesn't even hear me, massaging harder. I grunt when his thumbs press into my spine. "Are you ready? I don't think I'm ready. It's not a professional match but it's pretty fucking close. This is worse than when I fought pro for the first time. Can you breathe?"
"Can you?" I smack his hands off of me. "Get it together. Jesus."
"Sorry." He shakes his head as if snapping himself out of it. "How are you so calm right now?"
"This is child's play, Nate." I remind him glumly and lean against the ropes of the ring. I eye my contestant with a scowl. "I won't even feel this match."
"You're that confident?"
"Nate," I shake my head. "You don't know what kind of fights I've been in, man. The men I've fought were some of the most ruthless and cold motherfuckers. Fighting with them meant using every survival instinct I had so I wouldn't die in the process. When you fight like you could be killed at any given moment...this right here is nothing."
"Jesus." He mumbles and eyes me curiously. "But you seem kind of off. Like something's bothering you. What gives?"
"I just want to make sure I'm not being recorded. I know they put the ban in place but you never know who'll try to sneak some shit in."
"How come you're so adamant on not being recorded or broadcasted? I get you're worried about the Asesinos finding you but it's been eight years. What if they've moved on?"
I pause, not answering him right away. He looks so genuinely hopeful for me that I feel like the shittiest fucker, undeserving of being his friend. Not only am I hiding what's happening with my birth parents but now I'm also hiding that I'm fucking hopeless for his twin sister. It feels like I'm betraying him now that I told Aria I'm going to claim her sweet ass once I figure my shit out and he deserves to know about it. I don't know how long it'll take before I can actually be with Aria the way I want and not this what if shit but I shouldn't be hiding it from Nate. He's been unfailingly loyal to me in all the years I've known him and forgiven me for the worst, even when I admitted that I was a killer.
I look away so I don't have to meet his gaze and continue lying to his face. I settle for the partial-truth because I need to give him fucking something. He deserves that much and hell of a lot more. "Christian is AWOL. He's not in New York and if he's looking for me then the last thing I need is to plaster my face on television and give him a first class fucking ticket to find me."
The pause after I speak runs so long that I look behind me again to make sure he's still there. I grimace a little when I find his pale face staring back at me. He looks shaken up as hell and I don't blame him. "He...he's still after you? Even now? What the fuck is wrong with these people?"
"They're not people." I remind him sourly and stare down at the ring. "They're monsters."
"Fuck." He whispers. He runs a hand through his hair and swallows hard. "What if something happens to you?"
"Don't worry about me." I cross my arms and pull in a much-needed breath. "I can hold my own. I taught myself how to for this very reason. I always knew it wasn't over and that this day was inevitable. I guess it's a good thing I'm ready."
"What are you talking about? You're not seriously planning on taking him down by yourself, are you?"
"Yes, I am. This is my mess to handle and it's unfinished business I should have taken care of long time ago."
"You can't—"
"I can and I will, Nate. Stay the fuck out of it."
"You're fucking insane." He growls. I still refuse to meet his eyes but I can feel how pissed off he is. His anger is radiating off of him. "Even now you're dead-set on handling this yourself. Maybe you didn't have a choice before but you have a choice now. I can help you. Coach and the boys can help you. Can you open your eyes and for once just fucking accept you have people that are there for you?"
I don't say anything but my jaw ticks in disagreement. Nate gets in my face and I have no choice but to look at him now. I've never seen him so livid.
"What's it going to take for you to stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself?" He shoves me hard and my back crashes into the ropes. I blink in slight shock. Nate has never been aggressive with me before unless it was for sparring or trying to stop me from being a hot-head. "When are you going to stop with the same old fucking sob story? You grew up on your own and could never depend on anyone—we fucking get it. But that isn't your life anymore and you need to fucking get that through your thick head. You need to stop acting like it's you against the world and shitting on the people that are trying to be there for you."
Is he fucking serious with that low blow? I bark out an incredulous laugh and shove him back. Our tension is starting to catch everyone's attention, our spectators regarding us curiously when I get nose-to-nose with him.
"I'm not shitting on anyone. I'm protecting the people I care about because I do have a choice and I'm deciding to leave you out of it this time. I got you involved once and I'm not fucking doing it again. You may get off with this hero complex you have going on and acting like you're the answer to everyone's problems but you're not. I'm trying to look out for you and your family, your son, and you still somehow manage to make it all about yourself. I never asked you to fucking save me so don't catch an attitude because you can't play Superman this time."
"You're so fucking full of it." He shakes his head in disgust. "All I'm trying to do is remind you that I can help, not solve your fucked-up problems. You're getting pissed that I don't want you to die because your ego has problems accepting anyone's help? Fuck you, Asher. I'm your fucking brother and you still won't let me in and be there for you. You want to be alone in this world so fucking bad? I won't stop you anymore. I'm done."
"The door's right there." I goad and point to the exit.
I was counting on him to leave because Nate isn't one to let his anger get the best of him. That's why I have my guard down and that's why I don't see the punch he throws coming. It knock into my jaw with enough force that I fall to the ground and barely have time to brace my hands and knees on the ring. For a second I'm stunned and a short laugh bursts out of me as I gape at the floor. He did not just fucking do that.
Then I calmly get back up and brush myself off, offering him a little warning smile. He silently dares me to hit him back. So I do.
I go right for the gut, sinking my fist deep enough that he grunts in pain and keels over. I use my other hand to punch the side of his face and send him scrambling back. He finds his footing fast enough that he straightens up and barrels into me, taking the both of us down. I land on my back but am quick to roll us over so that I'm on top and able to deck him in the jaw. He sends a punch straight up into my chin and my head snaps back right before he kneels me in the ribs. I fall off of him and then he's on top of, one hand holding me down in place and the other reared back for another punch.
Suddenly Jax and Cameron are there and holding Nate back by the shoulders to stop him from doing anything anything else. He leans down in my face before they pull him off. "If it's that easy for you to risk your life like it means nothing and leave behind the people who give a shit about you then you're not who I think you are."
"Sorry to disappoint. I'll add you to the list of people who've had enough of me and left. I won't beg you to stay, Hunter." I sneer.
Cameron finally pulls on Nate's shoulders hard enough to get him off and I'm able to get back to my feet. He drags Nate from the ring and I hold his stare the whole time. The dumbass thinks I don't give a shit about him when I'd rather die than let him get hurt because of me. Fucking dick.
"What the fuck is wrong with you guys?" Jaxon's hand jabs me in the chest. "Nate isn't who you're fighting today, asshole. What was that about?"
"Nothing." I shrug him off. The last thing I need is to involve anyone else when my own best friend, my fucking brother, left me to eat dust. I ignore the pain in my chest and keep my face neutral. I shouldn't even be surprised at this point but...fucking Nate. Doesn't the asshole know I need him? "Let's just get this fucking over with."
Jaxon eyes me warily like he wants to say something else but the look on my face must stop him because he tips his chin to the referee who's waiting to get the match started. My opponent—I don't even know his fucking name nor do I care—smirks at me like he has me all figured out. He probably thinks I'm a hot head or that I don't know how to keep my head in the game. He's a sorry little fucker because he caught me in a bad mood and he's just the punching bag I need to get rid of my anger.
"I'm ready." I tell the referee who nods and comes to the centre of the ring.
"No more interruptions. This isn't a damn gossip circle." The ref throws me the stink eye that I ignore. What the hell ever. He won't be complaining when I make this match my bitch.
"Finally ready or still running scared?" The fucker I'm fighting smirks. I don't answer him either.
He keeps going like the idiot he is. "I have to admit I was nervous about my exhibition match for the pros until I learned I was fighting you. Fighter's Den is known for grooming the most talented boxers and yet you've only been in amateur matches your entire career. You must be pretty fucking hopeless if even the legendary Greg Resnick couldn't make you a formidable fighter. Will this even be a challenge?"
I finally side-glance him, just barely, and ask in a bored voice, "Do you ever shut up? You should consider it sometime."
"That's the best you can come up?" He chortles like he won the match already.
Meanwhile I adjust my gloves as if I have all the time in the world. "I just don't think it's necessary to waste any of my oxygen on you. You're not worth talking about and you're sure as fuck not worth fighting so let's get this done."
"I've seen your stats and you have no reason to be as confident as you are."
"That's where you're wrong." I offer him my cruelest smirk, the one that got me named Ice Boy, and a flicker of unease passes through his eyes. "I'm unforgiving in the ring and that's why I never step foot in it—until now. Congratulations on being the first fighter I'll make an example out of to anyone who underestimates me."
"I don't believe you." His words are a contradiction to the way he shuffles nervously.
I laugh quietly under my breath, knowing I've got him. "Your loss. And mark my words, asshole. You will lose."
He scowls in disdain but it only makes me laugh harder. I'm about to fight this fucker with no mercy and yet he's trying to threaten me. Wrong fucking move, bud.
The ref blows his whistle to signal the start of round one and I don't even pay attention to my opponent. Instead, I take a leisure look around the stadium to make sure there are no cameras or phones in sight recording me. So far, the only thing the spectators have on me are their eyes and I force myself to relax and trust that the people who run this place will respect my request to keep it that way.
"I'm over here, dumbass!" My opponent snarls right before he launches into me while my head is still turned the other way.
At the last second I move my body to the side and he crashes into the ropes instead. When his body bounces back and sends him in my proximity I swing a hook at him with unfiltered force that sends him to the ground with a groan. I tsk, stepping over him.
"Maybe next time you should consider keeping your mouth shut instead of announcing which direction you're sneaking up on me from." I slap his cheek tauntingly. "Let's go. Up."
I step back just as he shoots to his feet with a scowl. His eyes bleed with anger and I smile daringly, my spine tingling with the thrill of fighting. I've fucking missed this.
He charges toward me again and I sigh inwardly at his amateur fighting. He should know directs attacks won't work on me. I fake a right that he falls for—obviously—and punch his side with a left hook to send him down again. He immediately tries to get to his feet but I stop him with a straight punch to the jaw that snaps his head back. He's on the ground and clutching his face with a miserable moan.
"Powerful punches from Pryce. You can see the force behind them and it's impressive." A judge comments.
I cut him a glance and stretch it to the whole stadium to double-check for recording. I'm still in the clear. I kick my opponent in the side and once again demand, "Up. We're here to fight."
His face flares red in humiliation but I feel no remorse. He was so quick to talk himself up when he thought he had the advantage, didn't he? He delighted in showing me up when he assumed I was beneath him. I can't stand any fucker that thinks it's okay to push someone when they're already down and he's about to learn just how much I loathe him for that very reason.
He pushes himself up on his feet but only gets about halfway before I deliver a straight punch to his nose. The satisfying crack mixed in with his painful cry evokes a collective "ooh" from the crowd. I pay no attention to them. This is between me and him.
He tries to contain the spurting blood with his fingers but to no avail. Both him and I know he's going to have to call a time-out to fix himself up.
"Give me a minute." He wheezes, definitely in pain, and moves to stand up. I stop him with a foot to his chest.
"No." I say simply.
His eyes widen. "Are you insane? I can't fight with my nose bleeding like this."
"You asked me if this match was going to be a challenge, right? Consider this challenge number one. You'll fight me in the condition you're in right now."
"You're insane." He gapes at me and wipes his nose on his forearm. The blood isn't letting up and his jaw clenches. "Just thirty fucking seconds. Come on."
One side of my mouth curls up in a smirk and I dig my foot deeper into his chest until he wheezes. It's a staggering reminder that he is beneath me and I delight in it. "Beg me."
"What the fuck?" He demands. He pushes my foot off of him with little to no effort—seeing as I let him—and scrambles back. "Fuck you. I won't beg."
"Then you fight." I lean down and deck him on the other side of his face for good measure. His head jerks to the side easily enough that I can tell he had his guard down. What a shame. My next punch sinks into his eye socket and he cries out, turning his face away from my attacks. He crawls back into one corner of the ring and I follow like a predator to its prey. He has nowhere to go as I crouch down in front of me and hold my fist on his chest to keep him in place. "Fight or beg. What's it going to be?"
"You're a fucking monster." He grits out and pushes my hand away. He raises his chin up in defiance. I feel a shred of respect for his resilience, especially given the state he's in. The blood from his nose has trailed all the way down to his stomach in several thin streams. The eye I punched mercilessly has puffed up and is turning a considerable shade of blue. His nose is the size of my fist and he needs medical assistance to it immediately. All of that and round one isn't even over.
"Monsters don't show mercy; I do. Beg and I'll give it." I shrug.
For a second he looks like he's considering it and my grin turns vicious.
"Pryce!"
I glance over my shoulder to find Coach glaring at me. He looks like he's seconds away from marching into the ring and punching some sense into me. Beside him, Jaxon and Cameron are gaping at me like they don't know me. Wolfe is silently observing me with disappointed eyes. Nate is nowhere to be seen.
I chuckle humorously. Way to fuck up again, Ash. I won't take my actions back but, for everyone's sake, I'll stop. Because I do know when to quit and that's what makes me more human than monster.
"Play time is over." I tell my opponent and his eyes widen in anticipation for where I'm going with this. "Apparently I went too far as usual so consider yourself spared. I'll tell you this, though; next time you fight someone, you do it humbly and with respect. If you're going to talk out of your ass and bitch when you get what you asked for then maybe you should keep your mouth shut. There. Consider yourself a better fighter now."
"But we're still fighting." He sputters in disbelief. "This isn't over yet."
I lean in his face and he gulps harshly, his body vibrating with what's likely to be fear. "It is now."
And then my arm swings out so suddenly that his face is still in a state of shock when my knuckles smash into the side of his head. His body locks up, eyes rolling to the back of his head, before he slumps against the ropes and crumples to the floor of the ring, staying there. The ref immediately rushes over and gets to his knees beside us, smacking his hand down in countdown. I know the outcome already. That's why I'm on my feet and casually taking the steps down out of the ring. I've just reached the bottom when the referee yells, "...10! Winner by knockout!"
The crowd of trainers, other fighters, and members who purchased tickets are all on their feet to applaud and cheer my official win. This means I can go pro, technically, but there are several things that will stop me from doing that.
Reason number one comes in the form of my pissed-off mentor that crowds into my space, grabbing me by the shoulder and leading me away. I pass Jaxon, Cameron, and Wolfe who wear expressions of pity and toss them a reassuring smile. If there's one thing I'm good at in this world it's how to take disappointment. Been doing it for as long as I can remember.
When we get to the private room for fighters, Coach kicks the door open and shoves me in. I brace myself for the worst when he slams the door shut behind him and crosses his arms, facing me.
"Unacceptable." He starts. "Absolutely fucking unacceptable, Pryce. Are you hearing me? That's not how we fight. That's now how this sport works. What you just pulled in there tells me what kind of fights you've been in. I've seen it before and I'm not happy to see it coming from you because now I'm questioning who you are. I'm questioning your integrity and your morals and your ability to be a decent man in the ring. You are one of the best men I know but who you were in the ring today was neither good nor man."
Not gonna lie. I flinch a little. But he's right and we both know it. Even then, I don't agree nor disagree. I keep my mouth shut because my pride has always been my downfall. I don't admit when I'm wrong even when I am and I sure as hell don't apologize for things I'm not really sorry for. The fact is, I'm not sorry for the way I fought today. What that makes of me, I'm not sure.
"What's happening with you? Just fucking talk to me, Pryce." Coach grips next tightly by the shoulders and levels me with a serious glare. "Who's doing this to you? If you just trust me then I'll help you get them, son."
Fucking hell. I swallow tightly and look away. Why does Coach do that? Why does he always show me loyalty I don't deserve, especially when I don't deserve it? It makes me want to fucking peel my skin off, that's how disgusted I am with myself.
"Coach." My jaw ticks. "I can't do what you're asking me to do. I'm sorry but this runs much deeper than you think and I can't fucking escape it. I also won't take anyone down with me so please don't make me disrespect you more than I already have. If you ask again, I will say no."
He shakes his head, releasing me. He looks away for a few long and uncomfortable seconds before bringing his eyes back to mine, looking thoughtful. "I was exactly like you. That's why I'm so desperate to help."
"What do you mean?" I bristle. He can't possibly know what my life is like.
"I was in a bad place with bad people for a really long time. They were like poison; I didn't know they injected themselves into me until I was on the brink of death. Pulling myself out was the hardest thing I ever did and more so because I did it alone."
"What made you do it?" I ask quietly, desperate to hear the answer.
His smile is wistful. I've never seen Coach smile like that before. "I did it for Laura—Emily's mother. I wanted to be a man she deserved. I wanted to be the man she knew I was capable of being. It killed me to take myself away from the life and the mindset I'd known all my life but the possibility of not having her killed me more. You're just like that, Pryce. You and Cage both. That's why I pushed him for as long as I did and helped him even though he was going behind my back with my daughter and that's why I'm pushing to help you. You won't take my help yet but this is far from over. You don't get to ruin your life under my watch."
I'm rendered speechless at his confession but it wouldn't matter if I had something to say anyways because he stalks out of the room and leaves me to digest what he said. It is killing me to take myself out of the mindset I've had my entire life—that it's me against the world. It's just like Nate said. Everyday I live the same old sob story instead of accepting that my life doesn't have to be like that anymore. But I can't make myself do what needs to be done. It's just so fucking hard to change who you are at the root and it's killing me that I'm disappointing everyone who's counting on me to be better. It's killing me that I'm disappointing myself. Repeatedly.
"Asher."
My head snaps back up at the sound of Aria's voice. What is she doing here? She eyes me warily and my gut sinks because I know.
"You saw the match." It's more statement than question.
She hesitates. Nods. I close my eyes shut. Shit.
"That's not me, Ria." I plead quietly. I'll fucking break if she gives up on me too but part of me also years for her to understand and accept me, scars and all. "At least not always. Sometimes my darkness wins out but that's part of who I am."
I hear the door close behind her. I hear the soft sounds of her footsteps making their way to me. I feel the heat of her body when she stops right in front of me. I feel her warm hands on my cheeks right before she presses her forehead to mine.
"Ashes." She whispers, her warm breath skittering across my face. "Who's hurting you? Who's doing this to you?"
It's the same question Coach asked and the answer gets stuck in my throat for a second time. I shake my head and silently tell her that I can't say anything even though I want to.
"Do you hate me?" I finally open my eyes so I can search for the truth in hers in case she tries to lie to me. But there's no hate in those dark brown irises. The opposite, actually, and my stomach flips. Even now, even after seeing every last ugly demon, Ria is still on my team and I'm left trying to understand what I did to deserve her because I don't. I don't deserve her at all.
"I could never hate you." She brushes her thumb across my cheekbone, smiling slightly. "Trust me, I tried. You get on my nerves like no other."
A short laugh bursts out of me at the truth of her words. "I get on my nerves too."
"You need a break." She murmurs thoughtfully. I pull my forehead away from hers so I can look at her better. What is she talking about? "Whatever this is, you're caught up in it and it's blurring the bigger picture. It's taking over your life. You need to pull back and unplug."
"Well, yeah, I wish." I frown. "But how am I supposed to do that?"
"The cabin." Her eyes light up with the idea. I'm not following.
"Cabin?"
"The cabin my family owns just outside the city? That huge villa? Let's go there for the weekend and get your mind off things. Maybe it'll give you some clarity if you're away from this god-forsaken place."
"Really?" I ask skeptically. Aria notices and flicks my forehead.
"Yes, really. I think you could use a day or two to just forget what's happening in your life right now. You're going out of your mind, Asher. You need to breathe."
"I guess." Now that I'm considering the idea, it is tempting. I want to forget my life in Boston, and my birth parents, and the stupid fucking job for just a few hours of my life. It's suffocating me and, like Aria said, I need to breathe. "But...I don't want to leave my parents on their own."
And if she still hasn't figured out what's happening with me, that statement sure as hell sold her. She closes her eyes briefly and there's no denying she caught on but she doesn't push me. She knows that won't work with me. She knows me.
"We make it a family trip." She decides. "Bring your parents. I'll bring mine and my sisters and we can all enjoy a weekend together. Everyone will be there for your peace of mind and you can relax completely."
"That sounds great, Princess." I admit and tuck her hair behind her ear. I really don't fucking deserve her. Then I remember something. "But Nate...we fought pretty bad."
"I saw." She sighs and shakes her head. "You two are being such boys. You're just worried about each other because you love each other and instead of actually talking about it, you start punching each other out. He's just trying to be there for you and you should let him. But he should also understand how hard it is for you to open up. Case in point, you're idiots but your friendship is stronger than a pointless argument. Take this weekend with our families and make up with him when you're back."
"Alright." I agree reluctantly. There's only one person in this world I listen to without question and it's Aria. "Thank you for doing this."
She winds her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek tenderly. My grip on her waist tightens when she nuzzles her nose into my neck. "This princess doesn't need saving, Ashes. This princess will save you."
_________________________
A/N
SO. FUCKING. INTENSE!!!
Asher, oh man, oh man. My dark horse. My broken prince. He's struggling so hard and my heart is breaking for his dark side. But I can't help but fall in love with how real and raw he is!
And him with Aria? A match made in heaven. I am smitten with these two!
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Happy Reading :)