Blurred Lines (2 page)

Chapter
Two

Landon
hadn’t always been this way, hadn’t always had this chip on his shoulder, this
attitude toward the world. Maybe it was because his dad just up and left them,
just decided they weren’t worth it anymore. Whatever the reason, this was who
he was now, and he knew he wouldn’t change. Fighting, not backing down when
danger was right in his face, made him feel alive, feel like he had something
to work for. It wasn’t like he wanted the pain, or needed it, to feel good
about himself. Hell, the pain fucking sucked, but he still wouldn’t stop doing
what he was doing, not for anyone. They could take it or leave it, but either
way he didn’t give a fuck.

His
mom had always been there for him, always tried to help him, tried to
understand why he was this way. And yeah, a part of him did feel like a piece
of shit for putting her through this grief. Even Brent, his stepfather, was a
good and decent man. But Landon didn’t want or need a new dad, and he didn’t
need anyone sitting down and talking with him on what his problem was and how
could they fix him. He couldn’t be fixed.

He
didn’t want to be.

They
had been driving for the last ten minutes, away from home and school, but he
was cool with that. He didn’t want to go back anyway. He wanted to beat Devon’s
ass and knock him out so he’d quit running his mouth. He’d done well with not
at least bitch slapping the little punk, but he was hanging on by a thread. The
fact he got into a lot of shit wasn’t because he wanted to cause his mom or
Brent grief. It was just the way he dealt with things. In fact, he probably
would have beaten the fuck out of Devon if Lyric hadn’t shown up. And then when
Devon had almost touched Lyric… Landon curled his hands into fists at that
thought. He didn’t want that motherfucker touching her.

He
looked over at her and felt this tightening in his gut. Her long, light brown
hair was blowing around her shoulders from the wind coming through the
partially open window. After another twenty minutes she pulled into a
drive-through.

“Chocolate
or vanilla?” she asked.

“What?”

“For
a milkshake. Do you want chocolate or vanilla?”

“Chocolate,
I guess.”

She
smiled, and something him tightened at the sight. After they got the shakes she
was driving again, and as soon as she pulled onto the dirt road he knew she was
heading toward the creek. It was a small, secluded area, where this wide creek
ran that separated their town with the next. A lot of parties were held here,
but during the week it was quiet, with hardly anyone showing up.

She
pulled to a stop and cut the engine, and for a second she sat there drinking
her shake. He had yet to touch his, but he wasn’t into it right now.

“I
paid for that, you know.”

He
glanced at her, and felt his lips quirk at her tone. “Is that a subtle way of
saying drink the fucking thing?”

She
turned her head and smiled. “It’s my not-so-subtle way of saying drink the
fucking thing.”

He
chuckled, and it had been too damn long since he’d laughed. He took a long
drink from the straw and stared out the front windshield.

“I
have only been up here once, and it wasn’t a time I care to think about that
often.”

He
was curious what she meant, but he wasn’t about to pry. “But you want to come
up here now?” he asked, being honest, and not trying to be a dick about it. She
was silent for several seconds, but then glanced over at him.

“It’s
quiet. I knew the chances of seeing anyone here at this time was pretty slim,
and the view of the next town is pretty incredible.” She go out of the car
before he could respond, and he sat there a moment just watching her walk over
to the creek.

Landon
climbed out, his shake in hand, and went over to where she stood. This place
was pretty picturesque, but because of all the parties here there was also
trash scattered along the ground. Empty beer bottles and even used condoms
could be seen.

“It’s
a shame they can’t clean up after themselves,” she said softly.

“People
are assholes,” Landon stated honestly.

She
chuckled softly. “They can be.” They stood there silently for several more
seconds, and then she breathed out and faced him fully.

Landon
looked down at her. Lyric was so short compared to him, so small and feminine.
She pushed her hair off her shoulder, and he couldn’t help but track the
movement. Her shirt was cut low enough that he could see her collarbones, a
part on a female that turned him the hell on. She was curvy, not thin like the
other girls at the school, and truth be told that turned him the fuck on. He
could also see the rise and fall of her breasts pressing against her t-shirt
and the slight swell of her cleavage right beneath the top of her shirt.

Against
all his will he felt his cock start to harden and felt like a twisted, sick
person. He turned from her and faced the scene of the next town over, willing
his dick to go the fuck down. Damn, if she saw him sporting a hard-on she’d
probably think he was a motherfucker.

“Devon
isn’t worth you getting in trouble over.”

“He’s
a prick and deserves to get his ass beat,” Landon said without any emotion.
Thank fuck his cock deflated instantly at the mention of that asshole.

“He
does that to get under your skin.”

“Well,
it’s working.” Landon continued to stare at the town below, his anger rising.
“He needs to get clocked out. Maybe then he’ll realize running his mouth isn’t
the smartest move.” Landon wasn’t going to tell her that his rage was also due
to Devon touching her. That had sent Landon over the edge faster than he even
thought possible.

“Your
mom goes through enough shit, Landon.”

He
faced her, knowing what she meant, but pissed that she’d say that.

“I
don’t think you know shit about that, Lyric,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I
didn’t want you to come with me so we could fight, because we don’t even talk
as it is. I just want you to know there are hundreds of guys like Devon out
there, just wanting to screw up someone’s life because they were born
assholes.” She turned from him, breathing out and sounding a little defeated.

He
didn’t know what to say, how to respond to that, so he didn’t open his mouth.
He just stood there, looking at the scene, thinking about what she’d said.

“Can
I ask you something?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,”
he said without hesitation, because strangely enough he felt this openness with
Lyric. “You might not like the answer.” Landon wouldn’t lie to her, and
therefore if she asked something about himself or his past, which he had a
feeling she would, she probably wouldn’t like the answer.

“Why
do you do it all?”

She
didn’t elaborate, but he knew what she was getting at.

“I’m
sorry, that’s prying.”

He
shook his head, but he didn’t know if she was looking at him. “It’s okay.” He
scrubbed a hand over his jaw, and with his other hand curled his finger more
firmly around the cup. “This is just the way I am. I might have gotten worse
with the aggression and fighting after my dad skipped out on us for some young
bitch, but I always had this wild energy in me.” He looked at her then. “I was
always a pain in the ass for my parents.” He did hate that he put his mom
through so much.

“What
about doing something productive that can release all that … aggression?”

He
looked at her then. “I box, Lyric, and it helps, but I have a short fuse.
Someone fucks with me, and nine times out of ten I’m not going to back away. I
start throwing down and not worry about what happens afterward.” He saw her
swallow and wondered if she was afraid of him. He’d never hurt her, never hurt
anyone he cared about. The fights he got into were due to other assholes
starting crap with him. Landon didn’t just randomly start beating on them. He
waited until they threw the first punch, and then it was on.

“Maybe
I’ll never understand that. I am the most non-confrontational person on the
planet.” She smiled softly.

“That’s
good.” He wanted to reach out and brush the hair on her face away, wanted to
see if her skin was as smooth as it looked. “Fighting isn’t always the answer.”
He should probably practice what he preached, but he’d never been one to follow
his own rules.

She
chuckled, and he knew it was because he didn’t really have any room to speak.
“Can we just stay here a while?” she asked.

“We
can stay here all day, Lyric.” And he meant that, because standing here with
her, even if they weren’t speaking, was pretty fucking nice.

Chapter
Three

“Come
on, asshole,” Landon said, although he had his mouthpiece on and his words were
muffled. The other boxer grinned, the bling on his mouth guard flashing.

“Landon
Bosoce, everyone. He’s a motherfucking beast,” the announcer said, loud enough
that the crowd started growing wild. The boxing match was illegal, and being
held in the basement of a meat factory right outside of town. The factory owner
allowed them to have the match in exchange for a large chunk of money.

The
other boxer came toward Landon, but he ducked as a massive gloved hand came right
at his face. He moved left, then right. Swinging his own fist out, he connected
with the muscular abdomen of his opponent, feeling strength when the other man
grunted and stumbled back. They were both bleeding, the other guy from his
mouth and a cut on his cheek, and Landon from a cut above his eye.

The
sound of Landon’s heart beating was in his ears, and the smell of sweat, blood,
and aggression quickly filled the room as the fight progressed.

Landon
swung out again, connected with the guy’s jaw, and loved that his head cracked
back. More blood spilled out of his mouth and nose. The bell rang as the round
ended, and Landon went to his corner. This was underground fighting, so they
didn’t have any coaches or help as they took their moment to regroup. The bell
rang for the next round, the twelfth and final round. Landon bounced on his
feet and went back into the center of the ring. He could have ended this,
knocked the fucker right out, but he liked prolonging it, liked the fight to
last and wear him out. As it was he was exhausted, but it felt good.

The
other boxer turned his head and spat out a mouthful of the red, viscous fluid,
wiped the back of his hand over his lips and nose, and focused on Landon again.
He grinned, his mouth guard covered in redness.

“Motherfucker,”
the boxer mouthed.

Now
it was time to end this shit.

Before
the other boxer could come toward him Landon rushed him, swung out, and knocked
him in the side of the head. The guy went back against the ropes, and they were
locked like that for a second. This was underground, but there was still a
referee, and he broke them up.

Landon
started to deliver a series of short but effective hits to the guy’s side, but
had to stop and block a few of the other boxer’s punches. Landon could see on
the other guy’s face that he was tiring, and it wouldn’t take much to bring him
down. Landon felt the adrenaline rush through his veins even harder. They went
at it for a few seconds, but Landon blocked all the blows the other guys tried
to deliver.
 

“You
motherfucker,” the boxer wheezed out, and despite the noise in the room Landon
heard him well enough. He charged forward, swinging out and barely missing
Landon’s head with his red glove. Landon used that moment to take the guy down.
He swung out, aimed for the underside of the guy’s jaw, and gave him an
uppercut that had the other guy’s feet coming off the ground. He flew backward
slightly, his eyes already closed, and slammed onto his back on the
bloodstained mat. The crowd went wild as the referee started counting to ten,
but the boxer was out cold.

The
referee got to ten and waved his arms, declaring the boxer out. Medics went to
the other boxer. The referee came up to Landon, grabbed his hand, and the crowd
went wild.

“Twelve
fucking rounds, and victor by KO,” the announcer shouted out.

Landon
closed his eyes, felt that aggression that was an ever-present boil in him dim
slightly, and knew this was what it was all about: the rush, the adrenaline
high. It was an intoxication all its own, and fuck did it feel good.

****

Several days later

Landon
could feel his mother’s gaze on him, but he kept his head low and finished
eating.

“Another
fight?” his mother asked in a soft voice.

Landon
looked up and stared into her worried, but still angry eyes. The boxing match
had been yesterday. His eye was bruised, slightly swollen, and he had some tape
keeping the wound closed. He’d had worse injuries, but he knew what he probably
looked like, and he knew his mom was worried.

“It
was just a small fight.” Even back in the day, when he was a punk ass kid, and
the cops brought him home, it was for recklessness and fighting. But since
finding the underground boxing he’d put that fighting to good use. He made
money off of it, got out his aggression, and it helped him keep level. His mom
knew about it. She didn’t like it of course, but he was eighteen, and she knew
there wasn’t anything to be done about it.

Landon
had tried explaining to her that it was good for him, that he was safe—as one
could be boxing—while he fought, but he knew she worried.

He
looked over at Brent, seeing the hardness on his stepfather’s face, but he
didn’t say anything. Landon saw Lyric appraising the side of his face. He knew
she was probably thinking about their time at the creek a few days ago. Hell,
he was and had been since it happened.

“It’s
not safe. Look at your face,” his mother said.

He
looked down at his food and started eating again.

“Maybe
you need a hobby, Landon,” Brent said.

“That
is my hobby,” he said and looked at Brent.

“Or
a job,” Brent said with more anger in his voice.

Landon
set his fork down and leaned back on the chair. “Well, when I’m not at school
I’m fighting and making cash. And on the weekends I work at the construction
site. What other job do you think I should do, Brent?” He kept a busy schedule,
and the construction he did was something that got him out of the house, as
well. He made money there, but it was nothing compared to what he made boxing
the underground.

He
wasn’t doing the best in school, but fuck, he was passing. This was his senior
year, and he just needed to get through these last couple of months. After that
he could really do underground boxing full-time, which was what he was
planning. He might not be doing the best in school, and maybe others would have
just dropped out, but he at least wanted to have that diploma. Besides, he
wasn’t a fucking quitter.

 
“I wish you were more careful, sweetheart,”
his mom said, and when she used that voice, had disappointment on her face, it
broke his fucking heart and made him feel like the biggest prick.

“I
know, Mom.”

“We
wanted to let you guys know we are going out of town this weekend. We need a
break, and with our anniversary falling on the weekday we have to wait.”

“That’ll
be nice for you guys,” Lyric said, and Landon glanced over at her. She was
smiling, but her body was tense, and he wondered what she was thinking about.

“I
expect you both to be on your best behavior when we’re gone,” Brent said, but
was looking at Landon.

“You
want to get us a babysitter?” Lyric was the one to say it, but she had a
teasing note in her voice.

“We
trust you both and just want to make sure you’ll be okay for the weekend.”
Brent said.

“We’ll
be fine,” Landon said, and went back to eating. Hell, he could make sure not to
even be here, because the idea of being alone in the house with Lyric had him
thinking pretty filthy things, things that made him feel like a dirty bastard.