The Fighter (AU/Punk)
Chapter 1
Right hook to the jaw. Round house kick to the left side. She's down. I throw in an extra kick to the gut for good measure. She curls up in pain and I spit my bloody saliva on her. Bitch. The circle of jeering audience members screams and shouts. The "referee",Tony, walks over to me and raises my hand in the air. People let out groans of disappointment and cheers of happiness. I haven't gotten to fight in 2 weeks. Tony says he can't keep putting me in fights because soon enough, everyone would realize that I always win. And that's not good for business. Tony's different though, he says with me he wins big. Apparently nobody bets on the pretty one.
I push through the sweating bodies, receiving glares from the people who were hoping I'd lose, and pats on the back from the few who knew I'd win. I break through and pad across the concrete floor of the warehouse in my bare feet. I step around a few broken bottles before making it out of the huge steel doors. The cold air blasts at my face, chilling my sweaty body. I walk around the big brick building and down the alley between it and another warehouse. I push open the door back into the building. I could have just walked down the hallway to the "dressing rooms" but they would be bringing that girl I just knocked out down that way. I don't really want to deal with her if she comes back to consciousness. I walk down a dimly lit hallway, one of the ceiling lights flicks repeatedly. I open the door to the dressing room I occupied for the night. The windowless room had peeling white paint and disgusting shag carpet. I tiptoe over to where my duffel bag sits, trying to avoid as much skin to shag carpet contact as possible. I pull out my flip flops and slide them over my dirty feet. After that I pull out some gauze and make my way over to the cracked mirror and rusted sink that sit in the corner. I have a bruise along my cheekbone but that seems to be the worst of my injuries. Surprisingly, I'm not bleeding anywhere.She got in a few kicks to my ribs though and I'm sure I'll have a bruise there tomorrow. The skin is already reddening.
A sigh escapes my lips as I look at my pale, sports bra clad body. A few old bruises were yellowing on my arms. Two of my tattoos were partially visible. The cross on the back of my neck could be glimpsed when my blonde ponytail swung, and the bottom of the tip of the feather that curves down my side at the top of my rip cage. I groan and throw the gauze in my bag and pull out a grey sweatshirt. I throw it on over my sports bra and zip up my black duffel.
I hear the door click upon behind me and I freeze. Who the hell is in this room.. I quickly turn to see a familiar face. One that I'd thought I'd never see again. One that I never wanted to see again.
Daniel.
My ex boyfriend and my ex partner all rolled into one large, muscular, handsome, well dressed package. He looks at me warily.
"Nice to see you again," he says sarcastically. I glare at him.
"What the hell do you want?" I ask bitterly. He hasn't talked to me in two months for a reason, there's no need to start now.
"We need your help," he says seriously and closes the door behind him.
"We?" I ask suspiciously. I thought I made it very clear to the police force that I was done working with or for them.
"Yes, we," he says. His expression is grave. "We need you to go undercover." He says.
My heart starts beating faster at the word undercover. Going undercover has always been a true love of mine. It's so thrilling pretending to be someone you're not, the possibility of getting caught just around the corner. But I can't. I gave up that life.
"Find someone else," I mutter and try and push past him to the door. His strong arm stops me, holding me back. I restrain myself from breaking it. He must sense the tension because he pulls his arm away quickly.
"You're the only girl for the job," he admits truthfully. I can tell that it pains him to say this. In my heart I know that he would never ask me unless they were truly out of options.
"Why?" I ask anyways.
"We need a pretty girl with a death wish," he says, looking me straight in the eyes. "And you're it."
~
"So let me get this straight," I say to my ex boss, Carlos over his desk. Carlos is in charge of undercover operations. "You want me to risk my life by infiltrating the worst gang in London?" I say sarcastically.
Daniel scoffs loudly from the seat next to mine and I send him a death glare. Carlos raises his bushy eyebrows at us. "This is an extremely dangerous operation.You will be almost entirely on your own the entire time. We need you to get proof of wrong doing by Harry and all of the gang members which won't be easy especially since you'll be new. We would only call to check in on you about once every two weeks."
"How long is the assignment predicted to last?" I ask in shock. Once every two weeks? That means it has to last at least a month.
"That's undetermined at the moment, and totally up to you. I speculate anywhere between a few months and a few years."
"Wow..." I mutter. That's a long ass assignment. It would definitely eat up my life.
"That's why we need you," Carlos pleads. "You have no family, no connections. Your friends are minimal to nonexistent. Your life at the moment isn't a whole lot."
"Gee thanks," I say sarcastically. He's right though. The past two months have consisted of me fighting, training, and fighting some more. I really don't have to work because of the hefty inheritance my parents left me.
"I'm sorry but it's true," Carlos says. At least he's straightforward.
"If I were to accept this mission, when would I start," I ask curiously. Carlos and Daniel look at each other excitedly.
"Well tonight if that would be alright," Daniel speaks up.
"Will I have any contacts already on the inside," I ask. "Anyone I can trust?"
Carlos shuffles through some papers on his desk. "Zayin Malik has been working in the drug unit under cover for the past two years. He's involved with one direction due to their ties to his assignment. You can trust him."
I take a deep breath. Doing this would mean throwing away the life that I've been living for the past two months and joining the police force again. Undercover this time. It's a chance to reinvent myself. "Before I agree to anything, I just need to verify something." I say cautiously.
"Yes?" Carlos asks. His eyes glimmer at how close I am to agreeing.
"Anything I do while undercover for the sake of the assignment can not be held against me in any way, shape, or form, correct?"
"Of course," Carlos says earnestly. "You could kill a man for the greater good and we cannot hold it against you at all."
I breathe I sigh of relief. "Well, Carlos, it looks like you've got yourself an agent."
I push through the sweating bodies, receiving glares from the people who were hoping I'd lose, and pats on the back from the few who knew I'd win. I break through and pad across the concrete floor of the warehouse in my bare feet. I step around a few broken bottles before making it out of the huge steel doors. The cold air blasts at my face, chilling my sweaty body. I walk around the big brick building and down the alley between it and another warehouse. I push open the door back into the building. I could have just walked down the hallway to the "dressing rooms" but they would be bringing that girl I just knocked out down that way. I don't really want to deal with her if she comes back to consciousness. I walk down a dimly lit hallway, one of the ceiling lights flicks repeatedly. I open the door to the dressing room I occupied for the night. The windowless room had peeling white paint and disgusting shag carpet. I tiptoe over to where my duffel bag sits, trying to avoid as much skin to shag carpet contact as possible. I pull out my flip flops and slide them over my dirty feet. After that I pull out some gauze and make my way over to the cracked mirror and rusted sink that sit in the corner. I have a bruise along my cheekbone but that seems to be the worst of my injuries. Surprisingly, I'm not bleeding anywhere.She got in a few kicks to my ribs though and I'm sure I'll have a bruise there tomorrow. The skin is already reddening.
A sigh escapes my lips as I look at my pale, sports bra clad body. A few old bruises were yellowing on my arms. Two of my tattoos were partially visible. The cross on the back of my neck could be glimpsed when my blonde ponytail swung, and the bottom of the tip of the feather that curves down my side at the top of my rip cage. I groan and throw the gauze in my bag and pull out a grey sweatshirt. I throw it on over my sports bra and zip up my black duffel.
I hear the door click upon behind me and I freeze. Who the hell is in this room.. I quickly turn to see a familiar face. One that I'd thought I'd never see again. One that I never wanted to see again.
Daniel.
My ex boyfriend and my ex partner all rolled into one large, muscular, handsome, well dressed package. He looks at me warily.
"Nice to see you again," he says sarcastically. I glare at him.
"What the hell do you want?" I ask bitterly. He hasn't talked to me in two months for a reason, there's no need to start now.
"We need your help," he says seriously and closes the door behind him.
"We?" I ask suspiciously. I thought I made it very clear to the police force that I was done working with or for them.
"Yes, we," he says. His expression is grave. "We need you to go undercover." He says.
My heart starts beating faster at the word undercover. Going undercover has always been a true love of mine. It's so thrilling pretending to be someone you're not, the possibility of getting caught just around the corner. But I can't. I gave up that life.
"Find someone else," I mutter and try and push past him to the door. His strong arm stops me, holding me back. I restrain myself from breaking it. He must sense the tension because he pulls his arm away quickly.
"You're the only girl for the job," he admits truthfully. I can tell that it pains him to say this. In my heart I know that he would never ask me unless they were truly out of options.
"Why?" I ask anyways.
"We need a pretty girl with a death wish," he says, looking me straight in the eyes. "And you're it."
~
"So let me get this straight," I say to my ex boss, Carlos over his desk. Carlos is in charge of undercover operations. "You want me to risk my life by infiltrating the worst gang in London?" I say sarcastically.
Daniel scoffs loudly from the seat next to mine and I send him a death glare. Carlos raises his bushy eyebrows at us. "This is an extremely dangerous operation.You will be almost entirely on your own the entire time. We need you to get proof of wrong doing by Harry and all of the gang members which won't be easy especially since you'll be new. We would only call to check in on you about once every two weeks."
"How long is the assignment predicted to last?" I ask in shock. Once every two weeks? That means it has to last at least a month.
"That's undetermined at the moment, and totally up to you. I speculate anywhere between a few months and a few years."
"Wow..." I mutter. That's a long ass assignment. It would definitely eat up my life.
"That's why we need you," Carlos pleads. "You have no family, no connections. Your friends are minimal to nonexistent. Your life at the moment isn't a whole lot."
"Gee thanks," I say sarcastically. He's right though. The past two months have consisted of me fighting, training, and fighting some more. I really don't have to work because of the hefty inheritance my parents left me.
"I'm sorry but it's true," Carlos says. At least he's straightforward.
"If I were to accept this mission, when would I start," I ask curiously. Carlos and Daniel look at each other excitedly.
"Well tonight if that would be alright," Daniel speaks up.
"Will I have any contacts already on the inside," I ask. "Anyone I can trust?"
Carlos shuffles through some papers on his desk. "Zayin Malik has been working in the drug unit under cover for the past two years. He's involved with one direction due to their ties to his assignment. You can trust him."
I take a deep breath. Doing this would mean throwing away the life that I've been living for the past two months and joining the police force again. Undercover this time. It's a chance to reinvent myself. "Before I agree to anything, I just need to verify something." I say cautiously.
"Yes?" Carlos asks. His eyes glimmer at how close I am to agreeing.
"Anything I do while undercover for the sake of the assignment can not be held against me in any way, shape, or form, correct?"
"Of course," Carlos says earnestly. "You could kill a man for the greater good and we cannot hold it against you at all."
I breathe I sigh of relief. "Well, Carlos, it looks like you've got yourself an agent."
I guess you won't update any time soon, or at all.. am I right? I just want to say that it's an amazing and unusual story and it definitely deserves a proper ending.. but I understand that you are busy.. it's a shame, though..
4/12/15