Page 111 of Give Me Love

One, two, breathe.

My mind recalls a fucked-up childhood and sinks lower as I think about darker moments. My father, hunting for food, the crash, my brother deciding to join the service, fights with Lee—it all surfaces, and I find myself heading out of the locker room in search of a heavy bag.

I bring my hands up, protecting my face before jabbing the bag with my right hand, stepping through and throwing my left. The bag bounces back, and I dodge it before jabbing it again. I pivot, tucking my hands.

Breathe, jab, shift, jab, breathe.

On and on, I give it everything, moving around the bag, shifting my weight. Sweat rolls down my back, and my pulse quickens. My mind replays every single thing I’ve been through.

Every moment life has been shit.

I jab, letting the momentum carry my punch through. Over and over, like I’ve done a million times before. My body feels tight, and my chest gets lighter. I breathe hard and move quickly. My shirt gets soaked, and I let my mind control my actions. Giving everything. Letting go of it all.

Life is one big fuckery. Just when you think you got it all figured out, it body slams your ass, leaving you without breath and your head spinning.

My thoughts run wild and I turn robotic, keeping my eye on the bag and my feet shifting with the punches.

“There you go,” he coaches. “Come through with your left. Keep your hands up. Never let your guard down.” Lee keeps talking and I listen, soaking up his words like a goddamn sponge.

Sweat pours from my skin, and my arms ache something fierce. Today I got into a fight with a punk kid from school. He was shoving my brother into a wall, so I shoved his face into the floor. I got suspended. Lee always says, “If you’re going to hit something, make sure you do it out of honor, not stupidity.” So, I’m not in trouble for hitting that douche. I’m being rewarded for taking up for my family. Lee’s teaching me, and besides riding dirt bikes with my kid brother, times like these are my favorite.

Lee’s been a lot of things over his forty years. When he was younger, he was into boxing. He even won a middle weight belt. But then his father died and left him the ranch, so he had other responsibilities.

“It’s all in the mind,” he tells me. “You convince your mind that you’re a beast and your body will follow. Hit that bag like it’s your worst enemy. Believe that you’re the best, and everyone else will see it.”

I remove the gloves and toss them onto the floor, picking up a jump rope and going at that until my mind lets go of the past.

I’m free now.

I’m better than I was yesterday, better than I was walking in here. I switch to the battle ropes, doing alternative waves until my lungs feel like they’re on fire. I slam the ropes down and bend over, breathing hard. I reach and grab for my towel, wiping my face and standing back up. My eyes go to the clock on the wall, and I see I’ve been here for almost an hour. I try to catch my breath, wondering if K is up yet.

“Yo, Bryce, when are you gonna let me get you in this cage?” I look over at Ronnie, the owner.

“Don’t have time,” I breathe out, looking up at the ceiling.

He walks over to me with a bottle of water. “’Preciate it,” I say, taking it from him.

I twist the top off and gulp it down, letting some spill onto my chin before wiping it off.

“You got a lot of anger in you, man. It’s guys like you who make the best fighters.”

I run the towel over my head before resting it on my neck. “Well, I’ll agree with you on the former.” I point to the heavy bag. “This helps.”

He nods. “Sometimes that’s not enough.” He walks backwards, heading back over to his fighters. “You let me know if you ever change your mind.”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll see ya.” I look over at the cage, tipping the bottle up again. Mindlessly, I watch as the two fight with Ronnie coaching them while hitting the fence with his hands. I stare at the show, my eyes focused. Someone drops a dumbbell and pulls me from my trance. I shake my head before walking to the steam room.

I’ll never get in that cage because I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.

_____________

I push open the door to the loft, taken aback when I see Kat sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal. Her bare feet are on the coffee table, she’s got her hair thrown up in a towel on top of her head, and she’s wearing another one of my shirts.

“Hey,” she says before putting a spoonful into her mouth.

I clear my throat. “Hey.”

She points to the TV as she chews quickly. “Have you seen the news?”

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