Chapter 32

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Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, at least its not another 5 months! I'll try to update when I can!

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-&-

Chapter 31

    Rex

       The gym itself was small, and right around the corner from my apartment. Though honestly, I should have been looking for one by Briar Oaks. I was spending more fucking time there than at my own damn place.

       "Rex Turner! Great to see you again, man!" The gym's owner, Bob or whatever the fuck his name was, jogged towards us from the back corner of the large room—completely forgetting about the boxer he was supposed to be helping. Fucking moron.

       "Yeah, same." Though I barely remembered the guy. We met briefly after one of my fights, which he had apparently been watching for new recruits. He had given me his gym card while spewing some shit about doing great things at his gym, blah, blah, blah. Like I fucking cared.

       "And I see you brought Mr. Maguire. Good to see you again, Trey."

       This better not take too damn long. I didn't like leaving Rosalyn alone before last weekend, but now with what had happened at Halloween—I'll lose my fucking shit if she's by herself for too long. Especially while in the same house with that fucking twit of a McHail.

       "Bob, good to see you too." Like the fucking hero-gentleman he was, Trey shook the guys hand with that welcoming, disgusting, inviting smile of his. Why did I keep fucking bringing him everywhere?

       "Would you fucking relax." Trey hissed a moment later as Bob-seriously what fucking name is that—started rambling off about how 'awesome' his gym was, completely oblivious to the fact that I didn't care. I just needed a place to punch someone without upsetting that fucking girl.

       "She'll be fine one afternoon away from you. Get that stick out of your ass."

       "That is not why I'm pissed off." Which was a fucking lie, but that ass hole didn't need to know that.

       "Then what's your problem?"

       "I haven't hit anyone in a while. You want to fucking volunteer?"

       Trey rolled his eyes, his face set in that hard, icy expression he always wore whenever I pissed him off. Whatever. He could suck a left one for all the fucks I gave. Then he let out a long, drawn out, obnoxious sigh before turning towards me.

       I swear to fucking God if he starts talking about Halloween again I'm going to lose my shit-

       "Listen Rex. I'm worried for her too. What happened never should have-"

       "Fucking don't." I snarled at the behemoth of an idiot. He had no idea what was going on in my head.

       "Yo, Rex man! Want to test a round?" The owner's voice interrupted the bubble of fury that started to brew inside my chest. I ripped my gaze away from Trey to glare over at Bob who was holding up a pair of boxing gloves.

       "Oh, fuck yes."

       I didn't want to leave Rose alone for long, but I couldn't go back to her pissed off like this. She would get all upset and I can't fucking stand when she turns those big, sad, doe eyes on me. It always made me feel like the shittiest person on the planet—a reminded I did not need.

       Thirty minutes later I was feeling pretty damn good. I had boxed Bob, and a few others who had seen the match. The anger I had felt earlier was dying away and I was almost, almost happy that I had looked into the place.

       The underground was much more vicious than this, more violent and a little more satisfying when I won. But this I could do every day, any time. I didn't have to wait for a place, or a text that might come once a week. And with the gym's boxing matches I could make just as much money—I would just have to fight more. Which I did not have one fucking problem with.

       And she wouldn't give me that damn worried look anymore.

       "Alright man, I got one more guy for you if you're up for it." Bob called from the floor after my third match as I was drinking from a water bottle Trey had gotten. I didn't apologize to him for snapping earlier—I never did. But I did nod in thanks and he nodded back so I knew we were good.

       "I'm always up for a fight."

       "Awesome." I didn't miss the excitement in his pale brown eyes as he smacked his hands on the ring's ropes and all but hopped away. Just another fucking asshole eager to make money off me. At least I'll be making it too this time.

        I wiped my forehead with a gym towel and just about finished off the water when the owner came back with the last guy. The guy was about my age, same build, but hair so blond it almost reflected off the dim lights of the gym. Déjà vu slammed into my stomach with one look at the guy, but I couldn't place what was so familiar about him.

       "Alright you two. Square off, no dirty shots." Bob didn't waste any time with introductions as blondie climbed into the ring, especially since I told him I didn't care about their names. I wasn't here to make friends.

       It wasn't until we squared off and my eyes locked on the bright, cold blue of his that I realized why he looked so familiar. It was that look—the look we all had. The one all of us were fucking stuck with. He was a foster kid.

       That wasn't going to stop my fists from pounding into him though.

       The match started off slow and steady, neither one of us willing to make the first move. A part of me appreciated that. He was waiting to see my signs, what I did right before I moved—just like I was with him. One of us would have to cave first though.

       Turns out that one was me.

       It usually didn't take long to win, or for the other guy to back down. This dude was different. He matched nearly all my hits with blocks of his own and was even able to get a couple of punches in I hadn't see coming. I found myself actually starting to like the guy the longer the match went. No one lasted long in the ring—when I was trying at least.

       My busted knuckles were screaming in the glove, but I didn't mind the pain. I actually thrived on it. It reminded me why I fought like I did. Protecting my busted lip was a whole other fucking ball game though.

       By the time the match was over both of us were breathing hard, sweat dripping off our bodies. I had won, but just barely. We were both hanging over the side of the ring's ropes, the owner chatting away happily with Trey about how blond boy was his best fighter and how 'completely awesome' it would be to have both of us at his gym.

       "You're a good fighter, man." Blondie panted beside me, as he tossed his gloves at his side to grab one of the water bottles a worker was holding up for us.

       "Yeah, you too." I nodded before grabbing a water myself. I appreciated a good fighter, especially if they made me work for a win. The guy had been quiet too, unlike the others who would get pissing mad.

       I glanced up at the large clock hanging in the middle of the gym's far wall and let out a groan. "Fuck." I grunted when the hour hand clicked pass five. This had taken a lot longer than I wanted it to. Rosalyn had been alone for a few hours now, and that worried the almighty fuck out me. She always managed to get into some kind of fucking trouble whenever she was alone.

       I pushed off the rope and grabbed the discarded towel I had tossed on the chair to wipe the sweat off my forehead. We needed to get going, and I was fucking hungry. Maybe I'll bring her tacos. I think she said something about liking Taco Bell. Or I could grab some Dunkin', I know she loved them.

        Fuck it. I'll just pick her up and take her wherever the fuck she wants to go-

       "Hey man, thanks for the good fight." The blond kid's voice pulled me out of my thoughts just as I was about to step out of the ring. I turned back to see a hand held out in my direction, and watched as those blue eyes slightly narrowed. I clenched my jaw. I fucking hated when people gave me that look.

       "Yeah, you too." I shook his hand, keeping my gaze locked with his. I don't back the fuck down, buddy.

       His head tiled curiously to the side those eyes still narrowed. "You look familiar. What was your name?"

       Familiar. I didn't like the fact that he thought I was familiar. Even if I had thought the same about him.

       "Rex."

       The guy held that look a moment longer, before that bright gaze went wide. "Oh yeah. I think we were in a home together. A long time ago."

       "I doubt that." I grumbled and went to turn away again.

       I didn't doubt it actually. We probably had been in a home together, but anytime I met another used-to-be or still was foster kid they always wanted to form a fucking relationship and be 'my friend'. I had enough fucking friends—and I only liked one of them.

       I fucking hated when Trey was right.

       "Yeah, dude, you were the kid with that little garden-thing they made you get rid of."

       "I never had a fucking garden."

       Those obnoxiously bright blue eyes were back to staring at me curiously, his blond hair tousled with sweat from the match. "Yeah, 'cause they made you get rid of it. Don't fucking know why—I liked the idea. If it makes you feel any better, I was the kid always bitching about-"

       "Your sister."

       Yeah, I remembered him now. There had been ten other foster kids in the home, each one as fucked up as the other. He had been the annoying brat that wouldn't stop complaining about wanting to go with his sister who, apparently, got sent to a different home.

       It was really fucking annoying, but he was the only other one in that house that tried to make those fuckheads let me keep the little flower garden. They had a perfect backyard for it, but the fucking assholes were just that—assholes. It was the only thing I had shared with my mother, and they wouldn't let me keep it.

       "You ever get that garden?"

       "You ever find your sister?"

       I knew it was a shitty thing to snap back, or at least my tone was shitty. But the less people that wanted a fucking 'connection' with me the better. Blondie shrugged, and despite how much of a dick I was, a small smile pulled at his lips. "She's safe now. That's all I cared about."

       I didn't have a response to that. The guy had been a good fighter, and he wasn't altogether fucking annoying. "Right, well, guess I'll see you around the gym then." Having a normal conversation with strangers wasn't really my forte—or a conversation in general.

       The guy gave me a friendly nod as I stepped over the ropes of the ring. "Yeah, sure. You said your name was Rex, right? Like the dinosaur?" He let out a low chuckle as he said the last part, and in any other situation I would have lost my shit at the dumb ass question. But the way he said it reminded me too much of a girl with dark green doe-like eyes.

       And there was something... dark lurking in his gaze. It had been there the entire time, now that I thought about it, though it really shown when he laughed. It was a look only people that have been through some tough shit got. Not even all foster kids had it. And let me tell you, it didn't speak of a happy go-lucky life.

       "Um, yeah... What was yours?" I really didn't give one fuck about what his name was, but it would be easier asking Bob if he was available for a match or not.

       The guy's smile grew, and you almost couldn't see that darkness in his blue eyes. Though, just knowing it was hiding there could have been enough.

       "Jax."

-&-

    Rose

       Rex's fingertips were practically digging holes into his temples, and the deep breaths of air he kept inhaling and exhaling to calm down did nothing to help the awkward embarrassment ringing through me.

       "It's not like I meant to..." I muttered down to the white-speckled tile floor as those chestnut eyes of his remained tightly shut.

       "Do you fucking..." He paused, his voice tense as he forced another deep breath in and deep exhale out. "Do you understand why I do not like you being alone now?" The forced calm he pushed into his tone did nothing to hide the tight string of tension his beautifully buff body was coiled into.

       "Well, I mean, I always understood why. But it's not like-"

       "You broke your wrist."

       "Okay, it's not like I purposely tripped over the carpet. And it's not my fault the stairs were right there-"

       "Why didn't you grab the fucking railing! Why the hell weren't you paying attention-!"

       "Alright, you two. That's enough." Trey grumbled from the hospital chair on the other side of the room. I was sitting on that weird bed/chair for the patients, waiting not-so-patiently for the doctor to come back in and go over my x-rays as the two boys sat on opposite sides of the little room. And neither of them were all-too-happy with me.

       "I didn't mean to." I mumbled again and clutched my painfully throbbing wrist to my chest as my eyes stayed glued to the floor.

       He had arrived at my house just after my little tumble down the stairs, or half the stairs at least. But it was enough for me to slam my hand up against the steps to stop my fall—and to hear something crack followed by a blinding pain.

       Rex wasn't too happy when he walked into my house and saw my watery-eyed-self clutching my wrist, sprawled out on my booty, at the bottom of the stairs. Trey had came waltzing in after him to say 'hi', since I guess they went to the gym together.

       Before I realized what was going on, I had been 'escorted' into Rex's car and ushered to the hospital. I was still in my pajama pants and the overly large sweater I had been wearing to veg out in my room waiting for that-said cranky boy.

       Rex let out a gruff sigh and scrubbed his hand down his handsome face. "I know you didn't mean to. It's just the fact that it happened that pissed me off. I'm not mad at you." He grumbled as his large body leaned back in the small, cheap hospital chair until his gorgeous head could lean against the wall and he could blink up at the ceiling.

       Well, at least he's not mad.

       "Knock, knock." Came two sharp rasps on the door before the doctor walked in. He was a middle-aged man with graying hair, but a nice pleasant smile that made the tension in the air ease slightly.

       He wasn't my usual doctor, nor was this the hospital that my father made me go too—but I figured Rex didn't need to know that I had my own private room designated just for me at the hospital my father practically owned. Or how long I spent restrained to that place. The less Rex knew about all that the better.

       "Hi, Rose." Dr. Rome smiled as he clipped the x-rays up to the little light machine and showed us the scans of my wrist. "It's not broken dear, but you do have a nasty little sprain." He pointed towards the strain in my wrist bones. "Just wear this brace for a few weeks, and you should be okay."

       "So, its definitely not broken?" Rex pipped up from his quiet spot across from me, those dark eyes slightly lighter now as they gazed over at the x-rays. The doctor's gaze slanted towards him, not all that thrilled with the passively aggressive teenage boy who had been giving him a little lip the entire time we had been there.

       Apparently, Rex did not like hospitals.

       "No, it's not broken, but it will still take a while to heal. I highly suggest no strenuous activities. No sports, no writing with that hand, etcetera." His eyes lingered a little longer on Rex's—like they were silently communicating something that I just wasn't getting. I had to resist the urge to pout. I thought only adult-adults did that—not fair.

       "Alright Rose, go ahead and hold out your arm." Dr. Rome turned his attention back towards me, with the brace clutched in his hand. I tried not to let the pain show as he carefully maneuvered the tough, stiff fabric onto my wrist, but I'm sure with the way Rex's dark eyes narrowed into slits and glared at the doctor that it was plastered clearly across my face.

       "You're all set, dear. Try to be careful around stairs from now on." The doctor's voice was joking enough, but I could see the seriousness in his gaze. He left the room quickly after that with his clipboard and my x-rays, ready to run off to the next person who accidentally fell and hurt themselves—emphasizes on the 'accidental' part, which Rex was having a hard time understanding.

       "I need some fucking food." Rex grumbled a moment later as he and Trey practically sandwiched me all the way out of the hospital.

       "You're making me look bad, Princess."

       I glanced over my shoulder at Trey who was behind us as Rex stomped a few tense feet ahead. He had relaxed a little after finding out my wrist was only sprained, but that didn't ease the tension straining his tight shoulders.

       "What do you mean?"

       Trey gave me a large smile, though his usual bright, happy eyes looked rather dark, and tired. "I tried to convince him you would be fine on your own for one afternoon, then you go and fall down some stairs." He chuckled, even though there was no genuine humor in the laugh. "Now the fucker is never going to relax."

       I turned my gaze back around, my shoulders slumping slightly as I clutched my braced wrist to my chest. I didn't want to worry Rex. I mean, I loved that he actually cared about me enough to worry, but I didn't want him to actually worry.

       Then again, I guess with everything that has happened lately it was hard to expect him not to. Maybe I should just stay locked away in my room for a while. I really do just keep throwing myself into trouble and getting hurt.

       I guess we had been walking too slow since Rex stopped at one point, waited for us to catch up to his side, wrapped that large hand around my uninjured one and started pulling me through the rest of the hospital. The hurry in his steps and the extra slant in those dark eyes only made my theory that he did not like hospitals one bit grow.

       "So, where are we going to eat?" I asked as casually as I could when we finally entered the waiting room and headed for the entrance.

       "I don't fucking care, somewhere with food." Rex growled as he led us towards the parking garage where his precious convertible sat waiting. I sat in the back on the way into Boston so Trey could have the room in the front—that man/boy was not tiny.

       "I think there's a Panda Express somewhere around here." Trey offered as we finally reached Rex's car, its owner visibly relaxing as we climbed into the sleek black vehicle.

       "Sounds good to me."

-&-

Not the best ending, but my brain is fried. Sorry!

Silly Rose, always getting into trouble. What am I going to do with her?

Hope you enjoyed it!

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