Fighter for Hire (COMPLETE!)

This is my first attempt at a story in a long time so please bare with me. It is a love story, and it's very easy to relate to relate to some of the aspets or hardships of the main character. Be nice and review, I love getting constructive criticism. Let me know what you like and don't like so I can work on it in the future. Thanks and enjoy.


Chapter 1: Waking up

My only thoughts upon waking up were feeling like I had been hit by a truck. I couldn’t remember what had happened last night, and I couldn’t bare to open my eyes when I heard the rhythmic beep behind me. I knew the sound all too well by now and it meant I was in a hospital.

“Where am I?” I spoke as I heard footsteps passing by. I opened my eyes slightly, the white lights of the room were absolutely blinding and made the pain in my skull even worse.

“Morning sunshine! It’s good to see you’re finally awake.” His response was sarcastic but caring in that pain in the ass doctor kind of way.

I was finally able to open my eyes and look around, only to spot the clock reading 6:30AM. Ugh, I hated mornings. I was stuck in a hospital and unable to call anyone to find out what the fuck had happened. Before I had a chance to even ask I heard the doctor walk over and start explaining.

“You were left on the street for dead, luckily some people from the college found you and brought you in. I’ve never seen anyone in you condition even try to put up a fight, especially with a blood alcohol content of 0.43. We had to sedate you to get you into the ER, and even then you still left your mark on 5 of the nurses and ripped out part of the door. I‘d hate to see the person”

“People” I corrected, a glimpse of last night coming back to me.

“Ok, people, that did this too you. Must have been some fight.” He responded

I groaned in pain clutching my head. It felt like it was going to explode.

He laughed as he looked at me and continued. “So how bad is the headache? If you want we can knock you back out. You have four cracked ribs, broken knuckles on both hands, a fractured wrist, concussion, and had a dislocated shoulder but we popped it back in. It’ll help with the pain and let you sleep.” His face turned more nurturing and caring but I wasn’t one for affection of any kind. I just wanted to get out of there.

“That’s ok, I’m fine. How long till I can leave?” I asked without a second thought.

“Considering the extent of your injuries we have to keep you for another day or..”

“That’s absolutely out of the question!” I snapped at him as I began to sit up. The pain was excruciating but I was that way about hospitals. “Get me my clothes and papers and let me go. I’m fine to go home”

I was up on my feet and no doubt the ribs hurt like all holy hell and it was difficult to stand. He was looking at me in a state of shock. He couldn’t believe that someone in my condition was even standing, let alone moving around so freely. He went for the panic button but I cut him off before he could get to it.

“Now why would you try and do something like that?” I hissed, “All I want is to be let go, and as you can see, I’m alert and agile enough to get to you as quickly as I did. So either sign my release, or I’m walking out the front door as is.”

He looked terrified and I gave him a death glare letting him know that I wasn’t joking. I had no intention of doing anything other than leaving. He scattered and came back with a clipboard and a pen, leaving them on the desk at the foot of the bed. I quickly signed them and headed to the dispatch office. I got there only to find they had cut my shirt, so I’d be walking out in my jeans and sneakers. I thought to ask for a shirt but I was too anxious to leave. I got my wallet and phone and put them in their respective jean pockets and walked out the back door into the cool morning air. It was cloudy as usual, and thank god because the sun would have made my skull split. A light breeze brushed against my exposed chest, I took a deep breath and shivered lightly.

“Not bad at all. October and it’s still 50 degrees.” I said to myself. Talking to myself had always been a habit of mine. Sort of a way to keep my racing thoughts stable and my mind on a clear cut path. I starting walking back towards my apartment, again thinking aloud to myself, “so I wind up getting hammered, getting into a fight, losing and winding up in a hospital? Yeah, someone’s going to pay for this one.”

The walk back took me about 45 minutes, and as I reached my apartment I saw my older brother looking down from the fire escape on the second floor.

“I was startin’ to wonder when you’d be a comin’ home Nate.” His deep, booming voice echoed through the quite morning. “I knew soon as you woke up you’d be in a foul mood and go a stormin’ out.” He had the wide grin on his face, mocking me in typical big brother fashion. He jumped down from the second story, landing almost cat like next to me on the sidewalk.

“Funny asshole” I spat out as I glared at him. “You want to fill me in as to what the fuck happened last night?” I said, my ribs still aching making each sentence and each breath more painful.

“Now is that any way to talk to your older brother?” He laughed again as his eyes ran up and down my body. “That was some beating you took, then again 9 against 1 are hardly fair odds.” He smiled when he saw the look in my eyes. Fury building by the minute as I felt my heart begin to thunder in my chest and my blood pressure start to spike. I hated the coward, gang banging, piece of shit frat brothers that thought they owned the bar I frequent.

“Now hold on just a sec little bro. Don’t go all Bruce Banner yet. I know you’re angrier than a hornet that just had it’s nest knocked down but calm down for a minute and let’s go in and talk.” He just had this way of being able to calm me down no matter how hot I was at the moment. I’ve always had problems with my temper, but with the hell I’d been through the last 3 years things only got worse.

“You got a cold bottle in the freezer for me? This headache’s the son of a motherfucker.” I told him as I struggled to stand. My vision started to blur and I contemplated how wise my decision to leave the hospital was.

He put his arm around me only to realize he’d have better luck just carrying me. He easily flipped my 200lbs frame into his arms as though I was a small child, careful to watch for my injuries.

“You’re such a show off you big jerk.” I told him and he boomed another laugh. He really was enormous at 6’7 and 290, and his strength was equally as impressive. At 5’10 and 200 I’m no small fry, but compared to him I’m tiny. I could never compete with him on a strength level, but my speed was unmatched. It wasn’t for nothing that we lived as fighters for hire.

“Let’s get you upstairs, and I’ll get you a JD to calm you down.” He said as we headed up the stairs, into the darkness of the apartment.

My name is Nathaniel Rush. I’m a 29 year old stuck in a 21 year olds’ body. I was a student at the institution of Atlantis North in upstate New York until things went horribly wrong. I found out that my girlfriend of 6 years and then fiancée had been cheating on me for 2 of the last 6 years. I had never known such heartbreak in my life, so painful that I had become completely paralyzed. I was completely incapable of doing anything for the next few months and dropped out of school to move in with my brother Emelious. I didn’t think I could ever have a normal life after my break up so I asked to borrow my brother’s gun. He knew what I was planning so he decided he would if I agreed to play Russian Roulette. Needless to say he never loaded a bullet, as if he would let me do that to myself. I’m glad he didn’t because he was doing a great job of helping me get back on track. However when my parents had found out that I had dropped out of school, they disowned me. I fell to pieces once again but, this time it was different.

I turned to drugs and alcohol, and began abusing like no one can imagine. I hated my parents and was drowning myself in substances to try and get them out of my mind. The betrayal was so deep that the pain felt like I had been shot. Combined with the pain that whore had inflicted on me I didn’t see any way out of this hell. Luckily I had my brother there for me, once again to put me back on my feet.

Emelious was a marvel of human genetics. He would have made an incredible athlete, however my father’s influence kept him out of any institution, killing his dreams of playing ball. He’d been living on his own for quite a while, since he was 19. The last 9 years he had spent as a fighter for hire, or fighting in underground circuits for money. And he’d done very well for himself, but this was by no means the life of privilege that we’d grown up in. Even if he lived in a million dollar apartment and drove a beautiful black Ford GT, his life was a fight, literally. On call 24/7 and spending the hours getting his skull beaten in or pounding someone into a bloody mess. It seems so bizarre that someone as kind and caring as he, can live such a double life. So where does that leave me you probably wonder? Right where he started off.

My parents were killed 2 years ago in a plane crash on the way to their beach house in St. Lucia. They were absolutely loaded and even though we lived a life of privilege, my brother and I had always been very down to earth and very modest. My Father was Elusmus Rush, the owner of Rush Inc. A world renown business tycoon who was worth more than the country of France. He was a very strict man but he cared for his family. However when my brother wanted to pursue a career in Football, my father gave him an ultimatum. Either give up the childish games and go into the family business or cut all ties and leave. My brother left when I was 13 and I didn’t hear from him until my 18th birthday. He told me he was living not far from the school I would be attending. My father had let me go to school to become a doctor, much to my surprise. But when he found out I had dropped out simply because a woman had affected me in such a manner, it was the end of the line for me as well. All the money and assets in the will had gone to our frigid ice queen of a sister, leaving us to fend for ourselves.

So here I am. Amidst the madness that’s taken place in my life and this dramatic paradigm shift, I’m still standing. A recovering drug addict and alcoholic, with a bad ass temper, trust issues, and a still semi-broken heart. My brother and I together, fighters for hire, trying to make a new life for ourselves, and find peace in this world we were so cruelly thrown into. My name is Nathaniel Rush, and this is my story.