I want the punishment of being knocked out. I deserve it for not being all the things she wants. If I’d recognized she existed sooner, I’d have been extra ready. However I didn’t. I didn’t know my magnificence was on the market, so I had nothing to supply when the time got here. And all of it occurred so quick. It occurred so fucking quick. One second, I had the world within the palm of my hand and the following, I’m in search of a strategy to darken that world. A strategy to make all the things darkish round me. Shut off my thoughts. Shut off all the things.

I’m within the ring now on the Hellmouth preventing this man I’ve crushed earlier than. It’s not a problem. However I need two seconds of peace from the tortured screams in my head, so I let one in all his punches slip via, the crack and spray of blood from my nostril doing nothing to fulfill me. This isn’t working. I’m the sum of the ache in my coronary heart. I can’t even register something on the skin anymore. I can’t do that. I actually don’t assume I can get off the bed every single day and fake like I don’t wish to die. If it wasn’t for Tulip, I’m undecided what I’d have performed by now.

I’m not what Grace wants.

I can’t make her pleased.

Clearly her father mentioned one thing that made her notice that.

And actually, why would she need somebody who her father seems at with such derision? That’s her household. The individuals she’ll be spending holidays and milestones with for the remainder of her life. If I’m by her facet, she received’t have them. Did I count on her to present them up for me? To commerce her personal flesh and blood for a brawler with a walk-up condominium and no hope of an schooling like hers? The one forex I’ve are my fists—and I don’t even wish to use them.

There’s no fireplace in me to battle anymore. Battle for what? What’s there? I can feed Tulip and maintain a roof over her head with cash I earn on the Hellmouth, however I’m not preventing on the Backyard. I can’t discover the fucking motivation. I don’t even assume I’d make it to the world with out collapsing into the gutter and expiring from the razor-clawed agony that ravages my insides, by no means stopping, the depth by no means lessening. It’s fixed. A person can’t survive like this.

A reminiscence of Grace working up the steps of my constructing and launching herself, laughing, into my arms units off a bomb in my throat and I roar, throwing a proper cross at my opponent, sending him stumbling again a number of ft. “Come on,” I urge him, my voice guttural. “Hit me. Hit me! Knock me out. Please.”

Slowly, the man lowers his fists. “It’s worthwhile to go residence, man.”

The speeding in my ears slows down momentarily and I notice the whole Hellmouth is silent. Watching me. There’s no cash exchanging fingers or shouting or revving up the fighters. It’s the stillest and quietest I’ve ever seen this place. They’ve sympathy for me—it’s apparent. Proper there on their faces. And that pity is like lighting a match and dropping it right into a bucket of kerosene, blistering my pores and skin. “Discover me a fucking problem for tomorrow,” I bellow, ducking out of the ring. “Discover me a killer. Somebody higher than me. Do it.”

I snatch up my bag on the best way out, blood nonetheless dripping from my nostril. Layer upon layer of sweat working down my naked torso and soaking into my shorts. I don’t hassle placing on garments or wiping myself down on the best way to the automobile. It’s parked beneath the overpass as standard, site visitors rumbling by overhead. I transfer for the driving force’s facet, then hesitate, recollections of Grace bombarding me. Recollections of that first evening when she rode residence in my passenger seat, so angelic and healthful and pure and trusting. Of me.

She did belief me as soon as, didn’t she?

That wasn’t a dream?

As a substitute of climbing into the driving force’s facet, I discover myself stumbling to the alternative facet. Opening the passenger door and falling on my knees, half contained in the automobile and half out, burying my face within the heart of the seat, begging it hoarsely for the scent of her pussy. “Please. Give it to me. Give me one thing. Please.”

Perhaps I think about it, possibly it’s wishful pondering, however I swear I catch a touch of her cherry cola scent and my cock begins to harden, a harsh sound falling from my mouth, muffled by the leather-based seat. For the primary time since she walked away. I lunge for the prospect to be along with her in some small method, even when it’s simply the reminiscence of her in my automobile, the barest trace of her beloved scent haunting my nostril. My mind.

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