Beautiful Fiend: Chapter 2

“Thirty seconds left!” Dickie shouts to the three of us. He runs intensive training sessions at night, and not many of us can take his kind of intensity. “Come on! Hit that bag! Give it all you got!”

I feel him coming closer to me and I accelerate, trying to keep breathing as I hit the bag over and over again. My knuckles are hurting despite the gloves, but I don’t care. I can fight without them if I want to, though Dickie has forbidden it. He said I needed to take care of my body if I wanted to take this seriously. I do.

I feel him at my side and the next thing I know, he’s hitting me in the stomach. My abs tense, and I know he’s not using much strength, even though I can feel it alright. “Come on, Billie. You can do better than that!” he shouts in my ear. He hits me repeatedly until the bell rings, indicating the end of the session.

He moves away from me as I take a step back and put a hand on the bag to stop it from swinging into my face. My other hand comes to my ribs, and I fold in half, panting and sweating. Fuck, I needed this to get my mind off things.

“Alright, everyone. Do some stretching and go home. We’re done for today.” He claps his hand and leaves the main room of the rundown gym.

It’s really shit. The ring barely holds together, most of the bags are covered in duct tape from the tears over the years, and most of the neon tube lights are broken.

But it’s free.

Dickie took over the gym after the previous owner died, and he’s been doing his best to maintain it. We come on a ‘pay-what-you-can’ basis and since most of us can’t pay shit, we train for free. He doesn’t care as long as it keeps us off the streets.

I head to the shower after twenty minutes of stretching my sore body. The water is freezing, which makes me gasp as it sprays on my skin. There’s no hot water in these changing rooms, but I don’t care. I always shower here anyway because it delays me going out.

This gym is my safe space. I’m the strongest I’ll ever be in here, and Dickie always keeps me safe, whether from the outside world or myself. He’s aware of my potential and has been taking me to fight at other gyms in the area. I’ve won every single fight. He has so much hope that I’ll make it far.

The only problem is that I’m forbidden to do illegal fighting anymore. I’m also banned from getting into petty fights outside of here and I miss smacking a bitch in the face. I do what I’m told, though, mainly because making it to professional MMA is more important to me than my pride when a Kings’ bitch insults me. I need to keep my body safe, or I won’t survive long enough to make it.

I turn the shower off and dry myself before putting on my tight jeans and tank top. I gather my brown hair in a high ponytail and zip my bag. Grabbing my phone on the bench, I check for messages.

I huff and put my phone in my pocket before grabbing my gym bag. The cold smacks me as I leave the gym. Dammit, I should have brought a hairdryer. I walk to my car and throw my bag in the passenger seat before rounding to the driver’s side. It takes a few tries and a lot of prayers to the gods above before it starts.

“Thank fuck,” I whisper to myself. The sun has already set, and I turn my lights on knowing perfectly only one is working. I need to get it fixed, only I can’t exactly afford it at the moment.

My stomach tenses as I approach the trailer park where my mom lives. I love her to pieces, and I will keep visiting her twice a week like I promised when we moved to Dad’s but, fuck, it’s always stressful to spend time with her. I’m never sure what state she’ll be in.

I park right outside her mobile home and take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

I climb the step she puts in front of her door and walk in. I’m instantly hit with the heat of the place. She must have turned all her radiators on. It smells of dampness, cigarettes, and all sorts of food, as usual. The TV is on, except she’s not on her sofa. I look around and find her by the stove, stirring whatever is in the pot with a plastic fork.

“Hey, angel,” she beams with a cigarette between her lips. “Come on in, baby, and close the door. Give Mama a kiss.” I shut the door and go to her. She’s in a good mood, dressed and clean. Her hair isn’t brushed, but I can’t ask for too much.

I walk to her and give her a kiss on the cheek before taking the cigarette from her mouth. I stub it in her already full ashtray and leave it there. “I swear it sounds so weird when you call yourself mama,” I say lightly.

“I know,” she smiles. “That’s why I do it. I’m making mac and cheese. The box kind.”

“My favorite,” I say softly. “How was your day?”

“Good, good. I had work at the store, and I went.” She looks at me, expectant.

“That’s amazing. Well done.” It might seem like nothing to show up to work, but it’s a big step for my mom. She often isn’t well enough to even get out of bed. Knowing she went to work is a great thing.

Her eyes light up following my praise, and I feel guilty for all the times I’ve not been with her to tell her how good she’s doing. That I’m proud of her for being alive.

“Some customers are so fucking shitty,” she adds. “I swear I could slap them. This lady wanted a refund for a box I know she opened while she was shopping. We’re a tiny convenience store. Did she honestly think I didn’t see her?”

I chuckle and fill two glasses of water for both of us. “I wanted to slap a few people today, too. My Philosophy professor outed me in front of everyone for missing classes last week. There are hundreds of us in the class. It was embarrassing as fuck.”

“That’s your own fault. You should show up to class.”

“I had a fight last week,” I smile proudly. “Dickie took me to the South Bank for it. Their gym is insane. It has three rings and seats for people who want to watch. Seats, Mom. How cool is that? You could come if you want next time. I won, you know?”

“I don’t want to see you fight,” she snaps back. “Why would I want to see my daughter getting beaten up?”

“That’s my point,” I insist. “I don’t! I kick the shit out of them.”

“Whatever, there’s always someone bigger and stronger than you.” I shrug, and she changes the topic. “Did you get me my cigarettes?”

“No,” I snort. “When do I ever? That shit is bad for you.”

She rolls her eyes. “So is fighting, and you don’t see me stopping you.”

Once she’s done cooking, we settle on the sofa with our bowls of mac and cheese. We change the channel to put a soap on and eat silently.

By the time we’re finished, I clean up as she snuggles on the sofa. I use the occasion to clean her entire kitchen area and wipe the counter. I wash the dishes she’s been leaving in her sink for god knows how long, dry them, and put them away. I sweep her floor, mop, and then move to the TV area. I dust her shelves and clean the table. Then I grab all the dirty clothes and wash them for her before putting them all to dry. By the time I’m done, the trailer is squeaky clean, and she’s falling asleep. My shoulders hurt; I’m exhausted, but at least she’s got a comfortable place to spend the rest of the week.

I sit down next to her and put a hand on her cheek. Her eyes open right away. “I’m leaving you the bedroom,” she says in a groggy voice. “I’ll take the sofa.”

She always does that when I sleep over. Unfortunately, tonight I’m not. “Sorry, Mom. I’m not sleeping here.”

“Why?” The sadness in her voice breaks my heart, but I can’t let it get to me.

“I have classes early tomorrow, and I can walk to college from Dad’s.”

She nods. “How is he? How’s Aisha?”

“Good. They keep inviting you over. You should really come sometime.”

“I’m okay here,” she nods to herself.

My mom and dad didn’t divorce on bad terms. Their love faded over the years because of her illness. It was too hard for Dad, and she loved him, so she let him go. She’s not angry and has even met his new wife, Aisha. She’s Lik and Xi’s mom. She’s happy for them. As happy as Mom can get.

I give her a kiss on her forehead and point to the tea I just finished making for her. “Drink that. It’s chamomile and will help you sleep.”

“Goodnight, angel,” she says as I get up. “Say hi to Emma for me.”

“Of course, Mom. Will do.”

I leave and get back to my car. As soon as I’m in, I call Xi.

“Hey,” I say as I drive away. “What’s up?”

“I know you’re going to be super mad at me, but I have a huge favor to ask you.”

“Go on,” I say warily.

“One of my guys got jumped by some Kings. They took all his cash. He wants to get rid of the food he has left so he can take a break. He’s on edge right now and doesn’t want anything on him. Can you pick it up from him?”

And by food, he means drugs.

“Why don’t you go?” I huff.

“I’m with Emma dealing with some other shit. Come on, Bil’s. It’ll be quick.”

“Is there a lot?”

“He’s a distributor, so, yeah. Enough to distribute.”

“Xi, you know I can’t do that shit anymore. If I get caught, I can kiss goodbye to professional MMA—”

The phone scratches, and Emma’s voice is next on the line.“I know this is shit, Bil’s, but he lives really close to Mom’s. The guy is traumatized right now, he wants out for a bit and we need to keep selling.”

“What kind of gang dealer gets traumatized for getting jumped? Happens to literally everyone.”

“Please,” she insists.

“Whatever,” I huff again. My sister wouldn’t put me in danger. “Just give me his address.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Emma adds. “I’ll text it to you. How’s Mom?”

“You’d know if you visited her,” I snap.

“Don’t be like that, please.” The guilt in her voice annoys me. “You know I can’t take it. It’s too hard for me to see her.”

But somehow, she assumes it’s fine for me.

“Just text me,” I say before hanging up.

It comes a few seconds later. The guy lives two minutes from where I am, so I guess it makes sense for me to head out.

Once I knock on his door, he opens it like he’s been waiting. He shoves the bag at me and shuts the door in my face.

“You’re welcome, fucker!” I shout at his door. Dick.

I had to park my car down the road and I’ve got a few minutes to walk, so I put the backpack on my shoulder as I stroll back. I haven’t walked for thirty seconds when I see blue lights in front of me. I turn around, my heart already beating out of my chest. There’s a warning siren. A short woo that tells me they’re here for me.

“Fuck.” I break into a sprint as I realize this is a setup. Not by my sister, of course. No, their dealer has switched sides and is attempting to take us down in the process—typical Kings’ style.

I hear behind me, “Stop right there!” But I keep running. My lungs burn as I get in an alley they can’t reach with the car and sprint through. On the other side, I take a sharp left and enter a residential area. I keep looking for the street sign but don’t have time to slow down. I have no idea if I’m entering Kings territory or not.

I run some more as I see blue lights not far away. I jump over a cemented wall and hide the bag under a bush. I fucking hope this is an NSC street still. Now lighter, I jump another fence and end up in someone’s backyard. I exit through the front and run until I can’t anymore. I hear another shout, and I know this isn’t over.

Barely catching my breath, I cross into the woods and come out the other side. I run into a new street and my heart stops.

Shit.

I’m in Kings territory. I don’t know the name of the street; I just recognize the crown spray-painted on the sign. A cop car comes my way as I’m about to turn around. I have no choice but to keep running. I take another turn, but I know if I don’t hide, they’ll keep coming after me. If a King finds me, my life is at risk. I try to ignore the memory crashing back of the last time I got caught by people from the Kings crew.

I jump into someone’s bush and fall onto the other side. The branches scratch my face, arms, and neck, but I roll onto my stomach and plaster myself against the yellow grass. I wait until the car drives past and then until the blue lights disappear before releasing my breath.

“Well, well, well. Would you look at what the pigs dragged in?”

I recognize all too well the sound of the smug voice. Out of all the Kings that could have found me in their backyard tonight, it just had to be Caden.