Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
I say it works and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Nothing like a little adrenaline to wash the longing away.
His blood splatters on my chest. I’m covered in it and this guy is still trying to fight back.
One last hard crack on his jaw and the last bit of fight leaves his giant body.
I take a deep breath as I look at his bruised and swollen face. There’s blood everywhere.
Shit, Jack. What did you do?
I sigh as I get up, my old bones creaking with every movement.
The crowd is going nuts. The football players are silent as they stare at their beaten alpha gorilla in shock.
Marv opens the gate as I arrive at the door. I climb down the steps with a sick feeling in my stomach. This isn’t making it better anymore.
The fighting seems to be making the longing worse.
If I don’t have this, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.
“I said kick his ass,” Marv says in a low voice as I pass him, “not murder him.”
I ignore him and walk up to Stan who hands me my beer. I down all of it in one gulp.
If fighting won’t take the pain away, maybe alcohol will.
The crowd suddenly starts clapping and I turn around, relieved to see the big guy getting up on his own. He’s a little wobbly on his feet, but he’ll be okay.
Shit, if he’s heading to the NFL, what I just did to him is nothing compared to what he’s going to encounter every Sunday afternoon.
Hopefully, he’s a little less cocky now.
Marv is already hyping the next fight, trying to get two more fighters into the cage.
“Want to stay and go again?” Stan asks, holding a handful of cash. He placed a bet with one of the football players and just made a week’s worth of salary.
“Nah,” I say with a heaviness weighing down on me. “Let’s go watch and drink. You’re buying.”
I shuffle back to my table, getting all kinds of smacks on my bare shoulder as I go. My face is still bleeding. It’s leaking onto my chest.
I ball up my shirt and hold it against my ripped-up cheek when I finally sit down.
There’s got to be more to my life than this.
I’m wasting it.
An image of Derek flashes into my mind and I suddenly feel so ashamed. He was a Navy SEAL and he was my best friend. We were so tight.
I would have given my life for him, but that fucking asshole gave his life for me instead. We were in Afghanistan on a secret mission trying to take out a high-profile general of the Taliban. We were always glued to each other in the field. I watched his back and he watched mine. I guess I should have been watching his feet instead…
A grenade rolled into the cave out of nowhere.
He leaped on it before I could…
I sigh as I pop open another beer and down half of it, shivering as I remember the horrible sound, the spray of hot blood, the realization that my best friend in the whole world was suddenly painting the walls of the cave with his insides.
I place the cigarette to my lips with a trembling hand as I remember the funeral. His wife who looked so broken. Those dead eyes…
But it was Derek’s little girl that really got me.
Ruby.
She was sixteen at the time, but she looked as wise as an adult with those sparkling blue eyes and soft blonde hair.
I remember the overwhelming feeling of wanting to take her in my arms. To protect her. To shelter her from the evils of the world.
My heart pounds as I recall the way her hand felt when she shook mine. The way she looked at me when I told her that she can always count on me.
It should have been me who got killed in that cave.
I’m the one who should be a distant memory and Derek should be the one still here. He should be taking care of his girl. He should be her protector.
I sigh as I crush my cigarette into the ashtray.
The longing becomes unbearable. The pain too much.
“I’m gonna go again,” I tell Stan as the need to punch and get punched takes over. “One more fight.”
Stan leaps up and waves to Marvin who’s trying to get another fighter in.
“Jack wants to go again!”
The whole crowd cheers, even the football players. Even Goliath who is holding a cold bottle of beer against his swollen face while drinking another one.
The only one who doesn’t look excited is the poor fuck who’s already in the cage.
I’ll go easy on him.
Probably.
Chapter Three
Jack
My head is still ringing from that linebacker’s fat knuckles on the drive home. I groan as I turn onto my steep street, gunning it up the mountain as my bones ache and my head throbs.