I feel Alex’s hand on my shoulder before he kneels down beside me and wipes his face on the sleeve of his jacket. It’s not very often that you’ll see Alex cry. He’s a lot like me in ways . . . but better. “You can do it, man. She’s listening.” He points above us and then touches his heart. “We love you mom; always and forever. Your boys.”
I swallow hard and close my eyes as the tears come steadily. This time there’s no stopping them. I feel every damn increment of pain I have been trying to keep buried away. The only option left is to just lose it and let it all out. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”
I grip the ground with one hand and run my hand through my hair, tugging. “I never wanted to leave you. I didn’t. I had no choice. I did what I had to do to protect our family. Alex was going to die. He was barely breathing and he just kept hitting him over and over. I didn’t know I was going to kill him. I didn’t know. Fuck!”
I punch the ground before standing to my feet and growling. I feel all the rage coming back to me. That unstoppable hatred that fueled the beast that night, I let it take over me . . . and blind me. I’m afraid it’s going to come back tonight. I tried to avoid this. I really did.
Alex grips my shoulder to comfort me, but I push his arm away and kneel down again, gripping my head. The pain is so fucking bad that I can feel myself struggling for air.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t hate me. I love you more than life,” I say with one short breath.
“It’s alright, bro.” Alex stands above me, looking away. “We all know it was to protect me. Mom knew you did what you had to do. She fucking knew what dad became. Plus, I saw him bang his head onto the side of the workbench. You could’ve never expected that. It just happened. He was drunk off his fucking ass. No one could have called it.”
I grind my jaw and lean my head back, trying to fight off the pain. I’ve gone the last six years hating myself for not being able to be here for my family. I will never let that happen again. That’s exactly why I have to fight tonight. I’m going to fight and get Alex and I both out of this lifestyle . . . for good.
Alex taps the guitar. “Hey, Mom would love it if you played for her. Okay? It’s been a long time.” He sits down on the ground beside me. “That always made her happy, Bro. We can sit here all day if you need to. Let’s just chill and relax . . . like old times.”
I nod my head in silence. I’m done with words. The pain is too much to bear.
We have already been here for a good two hours, both of us just relaxing as I play some of mom’s favorite songs. No matter how old they are, I’ll never forget them. Neither one of us speak the entire time. We don’t have to. It’s as close to a happy memory that either one of us will ever get again.
I HAVEN’T TAKEN MY EYES off the clock. In two more hours I’ll be in that fucking warehouse, losing myself to more pent up frustration and hate. I don’t know much about how Asher’s fights work. All I know is that if a fighter loses too much of his money, eventually, he has a better fighter take his ass out . . . for good.
That thought scares me. I’m not scared for myself. I’m scared of what I may have to do to someone else. It’s been approximately six years since I have been in a ring, but that doesn’t mean shit. It’s part of who I am. The fight is in me and I never give up.
I’m not even sure when Alex entered my room, but when I look up he’s standing next to the heavy bag in the corner.
“I think you should fight tonight.” Alex looks over at me, his expression dark. I can see the pain in his eyes. The guilt is eating at him.
“I plan to,” I say confused. “It’s the only thing I can do.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I mean at the alley. Tonight. It’s been a long time, Memphis. Too long.”
I stare down at the gray carpet, lost in thought. He’s right. It has been a long time, but not as long as he thinks. Prison isn’t a fucking vacation. Every day is a battle to hold on to your freedom. You fought to defend yourself or you became someone’s bitch. It’s that simple. I stayed to myself for the most part, but there were times when I had no choice. He doesn’t need to know the filth you live when behind bars though. It will only make him feel more like shit.
“Set it up.” I look up at Alex. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes. Tell them to make it fucking good.”
Alex holds his phone up and starts backing away towards the stairs. “On it. Meet me at my truck.”