'My heart was built for war'

I knew I shouldn't have sent her that message, but I needed her to know that she could have saved me.

That I did think of a future with her and I.

Now, a future looked like one day at a time for me. Would I make it through without being caught? Would I make it through without losing myself altogether?

Luckily, one of the only things I am extremely good at is acting. Now I need to act for my life. And if I played this role well enough, maybe there is a future where I can find Bella again.

Arriving back at the sand drags isn't any easier this time, I realise I am now going to have to see this a lot. If I ever get the opportunity to be completely free, I would never go to another sand drags again.

I light up a smoke after leaving my helmet on my bike, I have no idea what to anticipate and no idea how long I will be here for.

In the distance I can see The Lost Souls, there are members moving bikes to either work on or to race. Ace is at his table, and as I get closer, I can see he is going through some papers.

The members look me up and down just like last time, I really don't fit in. Most of them are covered head to toe in tattoos and I have none.

Ace looks up to me as I get to the table, his eyes are cold and he offers no smile this time.

"I'm in," is all I say.

To this he does smile, it slowly grows until he is smirking.

"Bella stays out of this," I put in.

Ace shrugs. "Girls like that don't survive in this world, best to let her go," he says simply.

I nod my head, probably the only thing Ace and I will ever agree on.

He turns his direction to the guy standing next to him, he looks like he could be a bouncer, with his intimidating body mass and dark eyes. Ace gives a quick nod of his head back to me, and the guy comes over and starts to pat me down.

He gets way too close to my junk than I would want any man, but eventually when he is satisfied, he says; "he's clean."

Thank fuck Stan didn't make me wear a wire.

He pulls out a black leather jacket from under the table. The Lost Souls is in big white writing on the back, but there are no patches on the arms; I would have to earn them.

I slide it on over my white shirt. It's a perfect fit, but my skin isn't slightly comfortable in it.

"You're home," Ace says almost proudly. "Well, nearly prospect." He then chucks a silver knuckle duster in front of me. "See that guy over there in the red shirt?"

I turn my head to the direction of his finger, about thirty metres away I can see a guy laughing loudly in a red shirt, with a bunch of mates around him. "With the blonde hair?" I ask.

"Yes, well they are new here. He just beat one of our members in a race. Bring me his teeth," he says calmly.

I look down at the knuckle dusters, and before I have time to over think anything; I slide them onto my hand and begin walking over to the guy.

I knew saying yes would mean violence, I know it also won't be the only thing that brings a sickness to the bottom of my stomach.

I have been in plenty of fights before, too many to count; but I have never fought someone who didn't start something first.

As I get close enough to their group, I can hear the guy talking ecstatically about how close the race was, he looks too happy for what's about to happen.

A couple guys move out my way and as I take a deep breath, the guy turns his face to me. I don't give him time to speak as I lay the first punch, it sends him moving back. He holds his mouth in pain as his eyes are completely shocked.

The next punch knocks him to the ground. I don't stop there either; I continue to lay into him as he attempts to protect his face. My white shirt is quickly becoming splattered with red.

His friends must know not to intervene, the club's name clear on the back of my jacket is enough to keep them at their distance.

I stop, standing over him and breathing heavy; I look down at his fucked-up face. He is groaning in pain and I quickly move his busted lips apart. I can see a few holes where teeth should be, so my eyes hunt around him.

I find two on the ground, picking them up I leave without a word. As soon as I am out of their circle his friends surround him, moving in to help. I try to push the guilt down, about hurting someone so senselessly; but the sickness is already spreading.

I knew I was going to have to push everything down, until all that's left is numbness, otherwise I wouldn't survive.

I chuck the teeth and the knuckle duster in front of Ace. "I'm sure he will never win another race again," he smiles sickly. "Phone," he demands while holding his hand out. I do what he says and hand it over. When he gives it back, he asks for my number. "Now we can contact each other, if I call you pick up."

I nod my head, agreeing to a simple question all the sudden felt like I was signing my soul away.

"Clean all the bikes and then you are free to go."

"Sure thing," I try to reply with some feeling.

"Oh and Tyson," I turn back around and he throws me the knuckle dusters. "These are yours now."