Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 132

JAX'S POV

The Pit smells like sweat and rust, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood that doesn’t feel like it belongs to me until it does. My knuckles ache, skin split, but I swing anyway, muscle memory dragging me through the fight like I was built for nothing else. The crowd’s roar is a wall pressing down from every side, louder than I remember, heavier too. Sam used to keep a cap on the numbers, but now it’s clear he’s letting more in. Faces blur, shadows packed too tight, their voices clawing at me.

I hate them.

I need them.

I throw a punch, feel the crunch under my fist, stumble back when one lands against my ribs. My body knows what to do. It always does. But my head… my head is somewhere else entirely.

Happiness....the word itself feels dangerous, like something sharp I shouldn’t touch. I want it so fucking bad, crave it like air, but now that I’ve tasted it, I feel like I’m choking on it. There’s a panic I can’t explain, like happiness is a tide rising too fast, dragging me under, and everything I’ve buried is clawing its way up with it. The weight of every mistake I’ve made, reaching for me with bloodstained hands.

I dodge a hit, slam my fist into the side of this guy’s jaw. He staggers, spits red, comes at me again. I let him. I want the hurt. I need the sting in my bones to ground me, to remind me I’m still here. Because without it, I don’t know what I am. A shell. A fucking ruin.

And even here, especially here, I can’t get Xander out of my head. Watching him walk away tonight gutted me. Every instinct I had screamed at me to run after him, grab him, hold him so fucking tight he’d know I’d never let him go. Tell him.... tell him what exactly? That I’m terrified? That happiness feels like a trap I’ll never escape? That he’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted badly enough to make me believe in something better?

Another hit lands against my cheek, splitting skin, hot blood running down. Doesn’t matter. I drive forward, take him down hard, my fists slamming into his face over and over until Sam’s voice cuts through the crowd, telling me to stop. I barely hear him. All I hear is my own breathing, ragged and sharp, and the echo of Xander’s voice in my head....quiet, worn down, carrying that edge of sadness I put there.

He went to all those lengths today, all of it just to make me happy. And somehow I fucking ruined it. Like I always do.

The crowd chants, feet pounding against the floor, and it’s supposed to be fuel, supposed to light me up. But it doesn’t. It just feels like noise, like static I can’t tune out. Every second I’m out here I hate it more, hate that this is the only way I know how to let it out, the only way I know how to breathe.

I land the final punch, watch my opponent crumple, his body slack. Victory, they’ll call it. But it doesn’t feel like that. It never does.

Because even now, with blood on my hands and the crowd screaming my name, all I can think about is Xander...how down he’d sounded, how heavy. How badly I want to make it right.

And how I don’t know if I can.

The crowd parts like water but it’s too close, too loud, pressing in with hands I don’t want on me. My body’s a wrecking ball dragging me through them, ribs burning, cheek split, knuckles raw. Sam claps my back, voice booming something about me answering his calls, reminding me I’m still his fighter. His property. I don't stop or turn to him, I’m not here anymore.

The back room is a box with four walls and nothing in it but a sink, a bench, a table that’s seen too many nights like this. My shirt waits for me on the wood. I pull it over my head and the fabric bites into open skin, makes me hiss, makes me remember I’m still alive. Every movement is sharp and jagged. I feel like a wound shaped into a man, leaking through the seams.

Can I really go back to him like this?

He said he’d wait.

But is it fair to make him wait for… this?

This bloodied mess of shadows and bone.

This body that only knows how to hurt and be hurt.

I don’t know what he sees when he looks at me, but I know what I see. Eyes too hollow, too mean. A man shaped out of violence, teeth and fists and scars. I should want to protect him from it, from me. And yet all I can think about is the way I crave him...his voice, his touch, the anchor he’s become. And I hate myself for it. Hate how selfish it feels.

The door creaks open. I turn, expecting Sam with my cut. But it’s Nate, drowning in one of my jackets. The sight twists something ugly in me. I turn back around, pretend he’s not there.

He shuts the door. Footsteps scrape closer until he’s on the bench beside me, too near, eyes crawling over me like he’s waiting for me to crack open.

“Congrats on the win,” he says. Then he laughs, dry and bitter. “You’re actually better than Dorian was when he worked here.”

I don’t answer, don’t even look. I move to the sink, twist the handle, let water so cold it feels like needles hit my skin. There's no mirror, just the dark shape of myself staring back from the basin. I splash it on my face anyway, swallow the sting. Blood mixes with water, pink spirals down the drain. I rinse my mouth and spit red. Everything tastes like rust.

“I’m sorry,” Nate says behind me, his voice smaller now. “For blurting out you work here to Xander. I didn’t mean to. I just...I hope it didn’t get you in trouble.”

My shoulders drop. I sigh, shake my head. “It’s fine.” A lie. Nothing’s fine.

Nothing ever is.

I shut the water off, take my jacket from the table, heavy with the smell of smoke and leather. Nate’s still staring. Always staring.

“I’m leaving,” I mutter.

“Going to your place or...?”

“I’m not.”

“Oh. Thought maybe you were. Could’ve given me a ride.”

I pull cash from my jacket, slap a couple of notes on the table. “Take a cab.” My voice is flat. I turn, get two steps toward the door before his words hook into me.

“I’ve never seen you look that content,” he says. Quiet and so fucking careful.

I freeze. My bruised eye throbs as I frown, turning my head slow. His gaze meets mine like he’s just spoken a truth he didn’t mean to.