Chapter Thirty-Two
Tyler
What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought with ire as I watched the blond woman saunter away from me. I could picture her perfectly toned body lying across a hotel room bed, while I took in her sweet aroma and screwed her blind, but I couldn’t believe what I had just done.
I had just let this delectable, available and interested piece of ass waltz right out of my world.
After she turned the corner, I looked down at my hands and clamped them into fists. I felt like punching something and so, I made my way down to the area of the gym that had the proper equipment for me to pummel something without being arrested.
When I made it down to where the punching bags were hanging, along with a full boxing ring, I went off by myself and began to beat the shit out of a punching bag. As I punched and kicked it diligently, it kept just coming back for more and so, I gave it to the bag.
This was usually a good way to work out my anger, but today, no matter how hard I came at the bag, it was still just hanging there. It took no skill and my strength was just absorbed. I couldn’t see the bruises and I couldn’t watch it weaken.
No matter what, I would eventually grow tired and when I did, this stupid bag would win because I would be the one to walk away from it.
I had never thought about it like that before, but once I did, it only made me angrier.
Finally, I huffed a sigh and sagged against the bag. I could feel the sweat dripping off of my body and splattering onto the mat where my feet were, until a moment ago, constantly moving.
Then, as one more burst of fury ran through my body like a shot of lightning, I screamed, “Fuck!” at the top of my lungs, turned around and shot the bag with one large blow before I sagged against it again.
“Looks like you’ve had a rough day,” I heard a voice say over the sound of my own loud breaths.
Seeing the man, I panted quickly, “Mind your own fucking business.”
He laughed and answered, “Why don’t you fight a real man, instead of that pussy bag?”
At first I waved him off, knowing for certain that I shouldn’t give in to such childish prompting. I wasn’t scared of the man, but I did fear what I might do if I really was to fight him.
After all, my goal was to have knocked the damn bag off of its fucking chains and not being able to do that had only made me angrier. I knew that it wasn’t good to fight while angry, for there was nothing to keep you in check. Rage did mix well with fist fighting; especially when I wasn’t going into the fight with the intention to kill my opponent.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be some bigshot? A real tough guy?” The man asked, making his way closer to me.
“What’s it to you who the hell I am? Like I said, it’s none of your business who I am or the day that I’ve had, so leave me the fuck alone.”
Again, the man barked a laugh. He was one of those short, quick son of a bitches that probably fought dirty. I wasn’t scared of him at all. I just didn’t want to kill him. I had already gotten off the hook for one murder, I didn’t want to have to worry about it again. And with the day I was having, I knew that if I threw the first punch, I might not be able to stop and that would only be because I had to show myself, as well as everyone else that I was still a man who was in complete control.
“All right, pussy. If you’re scared to fight me, then that’s fine,” he shrugged and moved to turn away, but my sharp laugh caused him to turn back around.
“Yeah, I’m scared alright,” I answered, “I’m fucking terrified that if I hit you, I’ll kill you before I get all of my anger out. You look like a one punch kind of guy…even in the shape I’m in.”
The weaseled man’s eyes narrowed as his thin lips coiled into a smile, as though he was accepting a challenge. “Prove it, fuck-face.”
I shrugged and strutted my way to the boxing ring, then waited to see if he wanted to get any of the safety equipment. There was no one around, so we would be able to get away with not using it. The only reason I wanted to use anything to soften the blows was so that I wouldn’t kill him, but I certainly wasn’t going to run the risk of looking like a little bitch in order to save his pasty ass.
So, I hopped up into the ring.
The man looked around, almost nervously for a moment, as though he had ultimately expected me to walk away, before he moved over to the ring and slithered inside.
Looking at him while he took his stance, I almost felt bad for him. He was so scrawny. Speed was nothing if a well-placed punch threw him to the ground within a moment.
I smirked at the thought.
“What’s so goddamned funny?” the man spat.
“Your goddamned face,” I answered as we began to circle one another. I knew that I had the form, far more than this barroom brawler, so I wondered why he would be picking a fight in a gym, but didn’t question it. Instead, I just added, “Can we get this the hell over with, cupcake?”
While I was talking, he tried to run in and take a cheap shot, but I dodged it. I could have hit him, but I was feeling sadistic. I wanted to give him hope of being able to beat me before I completely emasculated him.
The only thing better would have been if there was an audience, but working to please myself, I had learned to be comfortable enough with my own praise.
So, for the next few minutes, I allowed him to swat at me, and after a few skillfully planned near-misses, I actually allowed him to hit me.
He punched me square in the jaw and even though it didn’t really hurt, I was surprised at the strength he had accumulated for it.
However, in the moment it took me to recover, mostly fabricated than anything else, I saw in his eyes that he was growing cocky and I knew that this was going to be over soon.
I moved in closer to him and set myself up, before taking my first swing. He ducked, just as I expected, so that he leaned right into the force of my second jab.
Just as I thought, the man was down on the floor in a moment. There was blood coming out of his mouth and a bruise forming around his eye. My massive fist had crushed the side of his face in one careful blow.
I backed off of him, not wanting to lose control and waited for him to pull himself back up. “Are you done?” I asked, moving my feet skillfully, more out of habit than necessity.
“Go to hell!” he answered before he jumped to his feet and leapt at me. I grabbed him and as I did, I felt him try to swing at me. I blocked him and shoved him back.
I beamed, knowing that I hadn’t even had to swing at him again in order to get him down on the mat.
I heard him hit hard and slide a little bit, but there was no more blood. I took this as a good thing.
“You can be done. I won’t tell anyone how much of a bitch you are,” I answered when I saw that it took him a moment to get to his feet.
I saw fire burning in his eyes as the man’s nostrils flared. He took in a large breath, spit out blood and got back up on his feet. However, this time, he didn’t run at me. He kept his distance and mimicked what I was doing.
“What are you a fucking five year-old? Copying me?” I shook my head.
He didn’t respond, but continued to keep up with my movements.
“Well, copy this, shithead!” I exploded before I punched him hard enough to knock him back. I grabbed his arm, pulled him close to me and kicked my leg under his knees so that he collapsed.
When he was on the ground again, I moved over-top of him to ensure that he was alright, but before I could say anything, he kicked up with all of his might, aiming for my crotch.
I grasped his foot just before it hit me and twisted it so that he had no choice but to flip onto his back. As I did that, I knelt down on his back, so that he couldn’t’ get up and answered, “Wow! You really do fight like a bitch. I could do this all day, but fortunately for your pride, I would like to go. It’s clear who the winner is. See ya around when you grow a sack of balls instead of those lady parts you’ve got up there.” I pushed him away from me and stood up.
However, I heard him behind me, running at me with a blind sense of fury. I turned around quickly, but this time, he wasn’t going to be stopped easily. He wound up and hit my face, but just kept running at me until I lost my balance.
I fell hard onto the mat and immediately felt the man straddle me, before throwing hard jabs at my face.
Before I had a chance to recover, I felt blood come out of my nose and was immediately angry.
With one swipe of my arm, I knocked the man off of me and leapt on top of him. I hit him a few times, until I saw a bruise forming under both of his eyes and his mouth filled up with blood.
At first, when I felt the blood begin to splatter against my knuckles, I knew that I should stop, but just as I had feared, anger had overtaken me.
I wasn’t just angry over the cheap shot. I was also angry over everything that had gone on with Ashley. I was angry over the way I felt and even though I wanted to find it in my usually calloused body to think of her like I think of the other women I fuck, I couldn’t. That made me even angrier. I hated to think that she had gotten the best of me and that was what continued to propel my punches.
However, after a moment I stopped short. I knew that I didn’t really want to hurt this man and it was because of that thought that I was able to pull back. I moved off of him and stared down at the man’s body.
He was bloodied and would probably hurt for a good while, but I didn’t think I had broken anything except maybe his nose. I figured I should be good.
I walked over to the front desk and told them, “Hey, I don’t know what the fuck happened in the boxing room, but I heard some dude moaning. I figured you would want to know.”
“What happened, sir?”
“How the hell should I know?” I demanded, hoping that I had gotten the blood off of my face and hid my hands well enough as to not give myself away. “He could have screwed up with the equipment or he could be jerking off in there. I can’t really tell, but the point is, I am just a concerned citizen trying to help before your ass is on the line any more than it might already be.”
After I made my case, I made sure to walk away. I certainly didn’t need any of this shit following me; especially not for a pussy like whoever the hell that man was.
On the plus side though, I felt much better. My anger had calmed and I was thinking much clearer.
Unfortunately for me, the problem had not fixed itself. It had only become more glaringly apparent.