Fighting to Be Free (Fighting to Be Free 1)

I felt like shit right now. I hated everything about my life at the moment, the pressure, the illegality, but mostly I hated the fact that I’d left Ellie stranded at her school dance. I sucked big time and it wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest when she dumped me for it. I truly was a worthless boyfriend right now and she deserved better than me.

I sighed as I approached my beat up old truck, unlocking it and slipping inside. I pictured Ellie’s concerned face as I started up the car. She was an incredible person. I’d lied and told her I had a headache, and as soon as I said the words, she was nothing but concerned for me. I’d never had anyone worry about me like she does, I loved it. I sighed when I pictured how she looked tonight, so beautiful, almost too good for my sanity. The urge to tell her than I loved her had been so strong tonight that I had no idea how I’d managed to keep the words at bay.

I drove straight to the warehouse, swinging my car into an empty space and slamming the door with way too much force as the anger built even more. Stepping into the warehouse, my hands unconsciously tightened into fists, my fingers immediately aching because of the force of it as I spotted his smug face. Terry. The bastard who’d been calling and texting for the last three hours, ruining the limited time I got to spend with my girl.

I didn’t focus on anyone else; I ignored the greetings of the rest of the team that were standing around. Instead I walked up to Terry, smiling politely as I approached.

“Fina-fucking-ly!” he cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

I didn’t answer; instead I put both hands on his chest and shoved, hard, making him stumble back against the wall. Gripping a fistful of his shirt I smashed my fist into his stunned face. He grunted as his lip split, gushing blood down his chin. I didn’t stop at that though; I wasn’t satisfied with just a split lip. I pulled back my fist and punched his stomach, taking out all of my frustrations on him.

“I said eleven, ass**le! Why keep calling me? I told you I was busy, you prick!” I shouted as I punched him in the ribs. He was trying to fight me off, struggling against my hold, but that didn’t matter - I knew his efforts were futile. He was a good few inches taller than me, and probably outweighed me by about thirty pounds, but I knew I could put him down easily.

Arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me back. “Kid, calm the hell down,” Ray hissed, dragging me back a couple of steps.

I could barely hear him through my rage as Terry reached into his pocket, bringing out a silver flick knife. As the blade snapped out, I elbowed Ray harshly in the ribs so that he’d let go. I didn’t actually want to hurt him, but I couldn’t leave myself open like that by being restrained - not when Terry was looking like he seriously wanted to cut my heart out.

“I’m gonna f**king kill you, Jamie,” Terry spat angrily. I smiled at that threat - a couple of months ago, that probably wouldn’t have bothered me in the slightest. Death was probably a good out back then, things were different now though, I had Ellie.

I stepped closer to him, watching as rage and maybe a little fear crossed his broken face. He was definitely weary of me; maybe he’d heard rumours about me too.

“Calm down, both of you. Terry, put that shit away,” Ray ordered.

I smiled. “Yeah, Terry, put that shit away before you hurt yourself. You really shouldn’t play with knives,” I mocked, raising one eyebrow.

His lip curled up exposing his teeth that were covered in blood, no doubt from where I’d punched him. “You have to be the most overconfident, cocky little f**ker that I’ve ever met. You talk a big game for a street rat, son of a whore, murderer!” Terry mused.

I knew he was trying to goad me into making the first move and it wasn’t going to work. I’d been called a lot worse in my time. Truth be told, I was the murdering son of a whore, so I couldn’t exactly disagree with what he said.

He moved quickly, lunging at me with the knife, I stepped to the side and grabbed his wrist, slamming it hard against the wall to get him to drop it, he didn’t though, instead he twisted his body, slamming his knee into my side. I hissed through my teeth as pain radiated up my chest from my almost healed ribs. I gripped one hand around his throat, putting my leg behind his and stepped to the side, twisting his body so he lost his footing, and stumbled over my foot. As he fell to the floor, I let myself go with him, landing on top of him as I slammed his wrist to the floor this time. The knife finally left his hand, skidding across the floor, going underneath a car that was sitting ready for pickup.

Terry made a strangled gurgle as my hand tightened on his throat, at the same time I pushed myself up to my knees and straddled him, using my other hand to smash into his face. I knew I needed to show him that he wasn’t in charge here, I wasn’t going to be putting up with his crap all the time, he needed to learn. I punched him over and over in the face and chest. I hadn’t lost control though; I knew what I was doing. If I had lost control then I wouldn’t be able to hear the people shouting at us to break it up, I wouldn’t be able to feel someone tugging at the back of my shirt, trying to get me off of Terry. I had lost control only once before and I never wanted to do that again.

When I was satisfied, I gripped his shirt and leant over him putting my face inches from his. I looked into his watery eyes as I spoke. “You ever pull a knife on me again and I’ll run it through your heart,” I growled. I let my eyes stay on his for a few seconds, allowing my words to sink in, letting him know I was serious. Ray was pulling at my upper arms as he shouted at me angrily.