"Hey, kid." I turn my head quickly behind me as I reach the bottom step of the stairs to the gym. Sweat coats my body, my black hair plastered to my forehead, I've tried to shake it out but it seems well and truly stuck. My inked biceps move to push it off my face the cool night's breeze floating across the newly vacated space. The guy lurking under the stars stalks closer the tip of his cigarette hanging out of his mouth again, the cherry glow bright against his black suit. I groan inwardly and start to walk away. "Hey, I'm talking to you." He doesn't sound activated, just amused.

"No shit." I huff heading towards the area my car's parked in.

"You thought about what I said last time." His grave voice, thick with the remnants of tar sounds along the quiet street. The silence hangs between us, his footsteps flowing at a slower pace than mine. "Well?"

What does he want me to say? Yes, I've thought about your offer and how good it would be to be back in a ring, underground. The pain sitting at street level and nothing on my mind except how to keep it there by getting myself battered and bruised, close to cutting the other guys' circulation off.

Despite what she did and the way things were left there's still that bit of me that wants to do right for Atlas, and myself. I've come a long way and that kind of life sickens me now to think about. The vile person I was. But what's the saying... A leopard never changes its spots. There's that tug that fills in the cavity the loneliness leaves, the only way I was taught to deal with pain set rooted in my brain.

"Ahh," He drawls, " I knew you'd done this before. You have thought about it." His footsteps stop and his chuckle rockets into the now contaminated air, " Come on son, you must miss it. The feeling of blood slick under your feet, the admiration of the mighty"

"That's not what I miss," I mumble thinking of her face, her pale skin and does eyes captured by her blonde locks. I miss the way of blocking out the pain. I used to fight underground for my dad, for that inch of pride or love I craved for. She gave me that and the feeling of being loved for love is better than craving the pride of a man who only wants you for his gains.

"Sure not kid, listen... I presume you've still got my card. Give me a call and I'm sure we can set something up... or I can keep waiting out here in the cold. Your schedule is pretty predictable by this point." Chills run down my spine. I turn to see him, a better view of his face in the moonlight. It's almost familiar but the files in my brain refuse to acknowledge he's anyone I've ever met.

"Is that a threat?" His throaty laugh hits me in the chest, caving a dark hole in my lungs.

"It's an opportunity." I glare at him until the smirk slides off his face with a sigh, he pushes off the bannister and stalks closer. Fag butt dropped from his pale lips. "Listen. I've had my eye on you for a few years... well my men have. I've been... pre-occupied for a few years and now I'm back to sort everything out. I've seen what you did in New York."

And that's when it hits me, his New York accent twirls inside my ears and squeezes painfully.

"Did he send you?" The smirk appears again as a meaty hand claps on my shoulder.

"Ahh... this may come as a shock Blaze but no, he did not."

"But you know him." My fists tighten, blood rushing from my knuckles ready for impact. His beady eyes scan my face before taking a long drag of his cigarette.

"Yes, your father and I go back and he helped me out of a sticky situation recently but I do not work for him, quite the opposite. I guess you could consider us rivals in the underground. He let me in on some... intriguing information and it leads me to you." His eyes wander around the street, deep in thought.

"Why'd he send you to me? He doesn't want anything to do with me." I try to ignore the dull ache in my ribcage as the sentence slips out.

"Precisely my boy. But I can see the rage you still hold and Instead of idiotically sending you away as your father did, I want to utilise it." I scowl at him, and his smary hands land on my shoulders. "Don't overthink it, come to a fight. There's one going down tonight in Atlanta, purposely for your benefit. Bring that pretty little girlfriend of yours." Hot white anger rushes through my veins, my fists itch to bury themselves deep between his jaw bones. What the fuck does he know, how does he know?

"What do you know, what did he tell you." I snarl, teeth clamped so tight my molars feel like they're being ground to dust. He chuckles fueling me to grab his hoodie beneath my fists, dragging his torso up with it. He's a good foot shorter than me. His smirk quickly falls along with his cigarette from his lips. He holds his hands up face growing ashen. Pathetic fuck.

"For someone who talks the talk, you sure don't walk the fucking walk, you coward. Now listen to me, mention her again and I'll happily smash your face against that wall whilst I cut your balls off and hang them from my rearview mirror." He visibly gulps, I hold on for one last moment before I drop him like a sack of potatoes. He stumbles on his scuffed shoes, righting himself with a deep breath. I grab my gym bag from where I dropped it and begin to walk away from him.

"People don't walk away from me without retribution Blaze." His words curl around my lungs and knock my breath from me, something about his chipper tone turned dark and empty has the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I throw my middle finger up behind me and quicken my pace away.

Like I'd take Atlas anywhere near that. My butterfly would... she would be so ashamed to know I was even just considering it.

Fuck, Atlas.

Once again my dads got his claws deep into me and you're not here to pry them out.

"Hi, honey!" My mum calls from the kitchen as I shut the door behind me. Gemma twirls around the living room in a pink tutu and her ballet shoes, her teddys lined up on the sofa giving them a show, I smile to myself as I dump my bag down by the door.

"Hi mom, hey munchkin." Gemma jumps at my voice, lost in her performance, runs up to me and wraps her small arms around my neck. I squeeze her as she giggles. I've still got a lot of making up to do after I screamed in front of her the other day.

"You smell Blazey." She wriggles out of my grip and then looks behind me like she does every day, waiting for her to follow me in. Her smile droops slightly as she goes back to her ballet performance. I stroll over to the kitchen and drop down onto one of the stools as my mom stirs the multiple pans on the stove. Steam curls around me making my stomach grumble.

"How was the gym?" She leaves the pans to place a kiss on my sweaty forehead, grimacing slightly as she pulls away.

"Fine." I shrug, her smile drops slightly but she blinks and turns away to the stove again. I can see the pity in her eyes, the sadness. She lost someone too, and so did shortcake. The house doesn't feel as warm or homely. Since my conversation with Brady, I've been flooded with all these feelings, pesky and constantly buzzing around me like flys.

Mom's phone buzzes on the counter and she rushes to grab it, smiling down as it illuminates her face.

"Who's that?" I chug a gulp of water. Her eyes tense slightly, pausing with her phone above the countertop.

"Atlas." She says simply stirring the contents of the pan. My bottle freezes on the way to my lips, chewing over the name. She was open with me about texting her and I'm not mad, never mad I'm glad my mom was able to do what I can't. The impulsive itch to ask about her never goes away, it's dripping off the tip of my tongue but it never quite slides out. "It's her birthday soon, the girls are planning something. Maybe you should help." Her eyes stay fixed on the bubbling red sauce.

"Hmm"

She drops the spoon into the edge of the pan with a huff and turns to face me, ponytail swishing behind her hand placed on her scrub-clad hip.

"I still don't understand what happened, why it blew up so quickly. Why you haven't even tried talking-"

"Mom! I'm done with this conversation." I Push the stall back as she rushes forward.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry I just..." She lowers herself into the stool next to mine and ushers me back down, " I... I just feel like I'm losing you again, the part of you that was... rebirthed when she came into your life. I think we've all taken a massive hit, the daughter and sister that fit perfectly into our home." Her eyes glass over looking at Gemma, still twirling around the mini dance barre she put up. "I just want to help you, Blaze, I want to understand-"

"Trust. She doesn't trust me, mom."

She looks away from Gemma, the creases around her eyes deepening into a scowl before a whisp of breathy laughter slips through her rosy lips.

"Blaze, what are you talking about? That girl adores you, she moved in with you into a family she didn't know after years of abuse and trauma in which she trusted enough to tell you."

"She doesn't trust me not to cheat on her or forget her." My ribs scream in anguish, and the blood under my skin turning sour at the thought.

"Listen, baby," She takes my large inked hand in her small ones and breathes out with a smile. "Firstly, know that I'm not taking any kind of side, I'm just sitting on the fence giving you and outsiders' perspective. What she said wasn't right but neither was what you said. There is no right and wrong in this situation, just different sides and factors. If she didn't trust you she wouldn't have come and stayed with you. She's not the same girl I first met and honey you played a massive part in that but these fears and deep-rooted pains don't just vanish. She's still dealing with them day by day and so are you. You two are different people from the ones you were when you first started talking to each other but at the end of the day, you both have things you are working through. Relationships aren't plain sailing, there are conversations to be had and sacrifices to be made. You've both shocked me with your maturity in your relationship but every couple has bumps in the road. You're both acting like it's the end but it's not. She's petrified of being abandoned again or stopping you from living your full potential. I wouldn't say she doesn't trust you but that she's making a sacrifice for you and her but should she have been more open with you and had a conversation with you... maybe. You guys just need a breather then to talk. This isn't the end baby. It's just the beginning and what will be will be. You've got your whole life ahead of you and you're both off to the most amazing schools and only you two can decide what happens next. If it'll be, it'll be." She squeezes my arm with a sorrowful smile.

"I want it to be mom." It comes out as a whisper, a broken and cracked echo in my own home.

"That's the right attitude to have the baby, It'll be okay it'll just take time and communication." My heart bangs painfully against my chest, and waves of emotion wash over my nerves biting under my skin. I want to share all the most important moments in my life with her, I want to share her most important moments. She's made me stronger but I'm strongest with her at my side.

"I love her mom, I want her with me when I go to Alabama and I want to be there when she goes to Julliard." My voice sounds fucking soppy to my own ears but it's true.

"Then sort it out, boy!" She raises her hands to the ceiling in almost triumph, an amused laugh following.

"I don't know how, where do I start." I'm not exactly the most romantic person in the world.

"That's up to you," She shrugs, lifting herself off the stool, whisps of hair falling onto her face, she walks over to the stove and pauses looking over her shoulder at me, "Though her eighteenth might be a good start." Winking she drops the spoon onto the surface and plants her hands on either side of the stove huffing. "Ah fuck it, let's go out for dinner."