Renegade Hearts (Rebels of Sandland 1)

e. The battle lines were drawn, and I was on my own.

When I’d left the gym earlier, Zak and Finn had made a feeble attempt to call me back to try and talk to me, but I knew it was all fake. They didn’t want to make it right. They didn’t care. If they did, they wouldn’t have stood by and let it all play out like that. No. I was back to square one, alone, with only myself to rely on. It was the best way to be. People only disappointed you and let you down. I was done with letting myself be used. I had to be smarter. I needed to show them they couldn’t push me around.

I was Brandon fucking Mathers.

I was shaking with anger when I scrolled through my phone and found Pat Murphy’s number. He was the king of bare-knuckle boxing in our area and I knew he had fights fixed up for most nights of the week. Right now, I needed to let off steam and a punch bag just wasn’t gonna cut it. I needed to fight.

He answered on the second ring and told me he could fit me in tonight. He was using a barn on the outskirts of town and he gave me the directions. I didn’t know who I’d be fighting, and I didn’t care. I felt sorry for the guy who went up against me. I was feral, unhinged and shutting down every last emotion like a machine. I’d rather feel a punch or a kick than the pain I felt now. In fact, I needed that physical pain to ease the mental scars that never seemed to close up. The scars that chipped away at my soul like a nagging, angry, open wound. The everyday reminder that I was nothing and I would always be nothing.

I got to the barn just before midnight, but the fights weren’t over, they were in full swing. I could hear the shouts and chants of the men inside, and that buzz from the crowds sparked my adrenaline. Pushing the door open, I made my way through the crowds and when I found Pat he called over to a mate of his to take over, so he could talk to me.

“Son, you don’t look right. Are you sure you’re up for this?” I knew I looked like shit. I also knew Pat didn’t fuck around. If he thought I couldn’t fight, he wouldn’t let me.

“I’m fine. Just a bad night. I’ll be right. I need this.”

He took a second or two to study me then nodded and patted me on the back.

“I had quite the response when I told my men you were heading down here. You need to start fighting for me, Brandon. We could make far more money than that shitty little ring you’ve got going on with your boys.”

I’d always turned Pat down when he’d offered to manage me before, but times were changing. Maybe I did need a different route?

“Maybe. Let’s see how tonight goes,” I said, to keep the lines open, but in truth, I couldn’t see past this next fight.

“I think you’re gonna like this.” Pat grinned as we walked back towards the hay bales that separated the fighters from the crowds. “You might know your opponent. I think he went to the same school as you. Brodie Yates?”

That anger that I was channelling from tonight, ready to unleash on my fighting partner, turned into a fucking tsunami.

Brodie fucking Yates.

That motherfucker deserved everything that was coming to him. Yates and Lockwood had made my life hell back in middle school, and although I’d got in a few digs and lucky punches over the years, I’d never really had the chance to give him a proper pasting. Looks like tonight was my lucky night. Brodie Yates was about to experience the full force of hurricane Mathers.

“Are you fucking on something?” One of Pat’s guys asked, looking at me like he couldn’t work out if I was crazy, insane or just off the wall.

“I’m high on life, mate.” I gave him my signature grin and he laughed.

“Looks like you’ve already been a few rounds too. Is that a cut lip?”

“You should see the other guy.” I shrugged not giving a fuck.

“Your eyes… Look at the state of them. You look like a fucking demon. I’m glad I’m too old to fight if that’s how they’re training you these days.”

I took it as a compliment. If I could psych out Brodie Yates just by looking at the fucker, then he’d be dead meat in seconds. Fear and violence, that’s what fed me right now. His fear and the sheer level of violence I wanted to offload onto him. The most dangerous man you can ever go up against is one that has nothing to lose. I was that man.

I heard someone behind me call my name and I turned to see Chase, Jensen, Brodie and some of their friends walking towards me.

“No friends tonight, Mathers? They finally seen you for the loser you are?” Jensen said, giving me the once over.

“That’s funny. I seem to remember beating your ass just a few days ago, Lockwood. I’d wait for the bruises to fade before you come at me again. You might sound more convincing.”

“You wanna know what I see?” Jensen didn’t care what I said. He was the big man with his crew around him. Get him on his own and the guy would’ve pissed his pants at the thought of going up against me again.

“I couldn’t really give a rat’s ass, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me. You just can’t seem to shut your mouth, can you?”

His grin turned to a snarl. He didn’t like that I wasn’t threatened by him. If anything, he spurred me on even more. I liked being the underdog. Shit, I’d take them all on if Pat would let me.

“What I see is a lonely, washed up nobody. A wannabe Tyson Fury without the charisma. You’re less gypsy king and more shitty king. You know, like the shit they found you in when your mum left you to bone every drug dealer she could get her hands on.”

I snapped and threw myself at Lockwood, but Pat and his men held me back.