"Just a few more. Keep going, Brandon." My physical therapist instructed, while I kept pulling the elastic band to strengthen my still unstable shoulder.

After three weeks, I didn't need the sling anymore and started doing light exercises as instructed by my physiotherapist. Right now, I only had to stay focused and strengthen my shoulder. Preferably the sooner the better. Still, focusing proved extremely hard today and the pain was was always an inhibitor. I could take painkillers for the pain, but I preferred not to. I used substances that could last me a lifetime.

"Stay focused. You're doing well." I tried to control the smirk from appearing on my lips, as Dr. Marshall stepped into the hospital's gym, something he did regularly these past few days. I tried to ignore the pain and kept doing the exercises. It wasn't hard to lose myself in thought, while doing everything subconsciously.

Having the fucker, James Inkles, in my office first thing in the morning was not how I thought this week would begin. I had to reschedule physiotherapy because of our impromptu meeting. Malcolm and Liam were also present, the two of them glaring at my once best friend, Liam more so than Malcolm. Whereas Malcolm remained mostly impassive, Liam looked like a guard dog ready to pounce. I enjoyed teasing Liam, but honestly I would hate to be on the receiving end of my friend's wrath, or fist if it ever came to it.

James sat in front of us as if he already owned the place, while he presented his grand ideas. It had been a couple weeks since that dreadful phone call and fighting tournaments were already scheduled for the upcoming months. Athletes from all over Illinois signed up to take part in the games, while Chicagoans started training at the gym again to be ready to take on their challengers.

Our firm's lawyers and diplomats took over most of my cases for the time being, as I tried to untangle the mystery I once again found myself into; I didn't mind. I liked solving puzzles and my past was a puzzle I, 'til now, avoided to solve. I've missed being back in the ring, the feeling of adrenaline cursing through my veins, and it silently scared me to death. Last thing on my mind was a relapse down the same road, but at the same time, the familiarity of being back in my father's gym made me feel closer to him. It was now my gym and I would do everything in my power to honor him as well as fight for the games to stay as legal as possible under my control. That was clear to every man present in the room today.

Groaning, I took a deep breath, as I felt sweat running down my temples. I had to focus on what the physiotherapist was telling me to do, but I kept messing up, my thoughts were clouded after meeting with Inkles. Everything seemed to go smoothly. Too smooth for my liking and it irked me; I wasn't seeing the big picture and I would come to regret it.

Taking in a deep breath, I lifted the weightlifting bar above my head, repeating the motion every few seconds. I was going slowly, but my shoulder was gaining its strength back. Hell, it hurt like a bitch, but I wasn't giving up and with no complain I proceeded with the rest of the planned exercises for the day.

"You're getting stronger."

"Do you think I can use my bike soon?" It was inevitable to hold back the smirk from appearing on my lips, especially after seeing Marshall's disapproving glare my way.

"Don't be ridiculous." Marshall chuckled, coming my way the minute I sat on the bench. I was taking huge gulps of water, when I saw a certain brunette walk by the door. My breath hitched in my throat as I scurried away from Marshall quickly and into the lockers. These past couple of weeks I couldn't stop myself from thinking about her. Seeing her now in front of me proved to be a challenge on its own and I couldn't keep myself away from the temptation for long.

"I wanted to talk about your match. It's after another month, but I think you need more time, more rehabilitation for sure. If you rush, you'll be back here with another dislocated shoulder." I wasn't careful when I pulled a clean t-shirt above my head, making me bite my lip to hold in my groans of pain, but I didn't have time for that now. Marshall was watching me, intend in his voice, but I wasn't hearing anything. I couldn't.

"Remind me to talk about this again soon, old man. I have to go. I-" I bit my lip, thinking about my next words. "I don't want to keep pops from waiting. You know how grumpy he gets."

It was scheduled last minute, but I really was meeting with my grandpa today; I was in no rush, though. He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in disbelief. I knew what he was thinking. I was the same reckless brat, nothing changed from back in the day. But right now, it didn't matter. Right now, I had to see a certain Erika Ricci that walked by the corridor, and if I was lucky enough then maybe utter the words I was meaning to say these past few weeks.

Once out of the gym, she was nowhere to be found. I was nervous. Was this it? Was my chance to see her again gone? I turned the corner, taking a deep breath 'cause there she was. Standing behind the nurses' station, writing things in her small blue notepad, biting that bottom lip, deep in thought.

I knew I wasn't allowed to be on that wing, but it was late afternoon, and no one was on the floor, so I took a moment to admire her. It was comforting how familiar this image seemed. Her purple scrubs, the glasses on her nose, the messy bun. I was losing myself, but this time in the most pleasant, addicting sensation of them all.

This feeling was completely new and completely out of my league.

I knew the feeling of not being able to have something I wanted. Almost like a kid's favorite chocolate cake in the fridge, that had to wait 'til after dinner. Still, who wouldn't want to devour it as soon as possible. Or the taste of an alcoholic's favorite whiskey; aged, cold and ready to pass through their lips, giving them that momentary feeling of smoky and bitter and sweet all at the same time. But once again, the bottle was off limits, the golden liquid was forbidden.

The feeling of smoke that burned my lungs, before exhaling the poisonous gas out of my mouth. It was toxic, a poison, but I kept coming back for more. I took a sip of the golden liquid; I took a bite from the chocolate cake.

The feeling of coke or heroine burning the cells they penetrate? God, that high, the feeling of being unstoppable, on top of the world, a hero higher than god. And then the burning sensation of vomit rushing up my throat, to remind me once again that I was nothing other than a mere mortal, passing flesh waiting to become one with the soil, ash.

I was stronger now, all these weaknesses were a part of the past, a chapter of the book that were my teenage years. I pushed myself to become stronger, the sting of muscle as I pushed myself, following my physiotherapists instructions, were proof that I came a long way. It was all about growth. And the thought, the urge of crushing an old friend in a ring that was once home. The path was clear.

That was until my session was done and I stepped out of the room, only to come face to face with the sweet chocolate, the burning sensation in my lungs and veins, the taste of smoky, bitter liquid on my lips. Erika Ricci was a battle on her own, a fight against an addiction I've yet to taste, devour.

An addiction I wanted to lose myself in, but desperately tried to hold myself back.

Vicodin, xanny, a sip of whiskey, the burn in my lungs.

'Erika Ricci, you are the breath of air I need, but once I'm high off you there won't be a way back for me. I will be done for...'

And I was so ready for that.

I pushed myself off the wall I was leaning, needing to take a breath of my own. This time oxygen being on the top of the list of things I currently needed. The phone in my back-pocket vibrated once, twice; Liam was already waiting for me.

"Hey. Thanks for picking me up. Can we stop by my gramp's, before we head back to the firm?" I told him the minute I closed the door of his car. Liam's simple nod was an indication of how well he knew me. I briefly mentioned I saw Erika again, but instead of prying, no more words were exchanged between us. It wasn't a secret I had an unfathomable crush on her and Liam usually never stopped pestering me about it. But right now, he knew I needed time to think.

Having my physiotherapy sessions at the same hospital she worked at was a gamble I took. I knew we would soon see each other and then the walls around me would start tumbling to the ground. I knew that. All reason was gone the minute I saw her again; I was always great at sabotaging myself.

It wasn't long before we were driving down the path towards my grandfather's place, at the outskirts of Chicago. It had been a week since he called to ask if I was coming and I promised I would.

"You didn't speak to her." Liam's voice broke the silence in a statement we both knew was true.

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. This, she, was a court I wasn't prepared for, and so I remained impassive 'til I was ready to negotiate my way around it, around her and around my feelings.

In my head I had already walked up to her, grabbed her small waist in my hands, hugged her close to my body, breathed in the sweet scent of her hair, felt my lips on her neck... I chuckled at the thought of how frustrated she would be, how her blush would for sure cover her skin. Although my last night at the hospital was a mess, she felt so good wrapped in my body. It felt right to be there with her, on my hospital bed with her head on my chest.

As the clouds of my thoughts dissipated, I scoffed dejectedly at the games my brain was playing, reminding myself about how I couldn't, shouldn't have her. She deserved better.

Arriving at my grandpa's house I looked at Liam expectedly, before he informed me he would be back in another hour to take me home. It was a shame he wasn't staying. My grandfather always enjoyed our company; especially since we were legal and he could share beer with us on the porch of his cabin. I thanked him nonetheless, waving at the man that was more of a brother to me since the day we met; the bastard was younger than me but sometimes was so levelheaded and considerate, he almost took me by surprise.

He was long gone before I took a look around the porch, images of my childhood unfolded like a movie in front of me. Me and my sisters playing, running around and making everyone go crazy, until my father would come and chase us. He would impersonate a great big dragon, and I would always slay the dragon and save my sisters, princess Ariana and princess Mia. Restoring the throne and saving the kingdom. That was back in the good old days of our childhood, when the King siblings were always together.

My father would then enjoy a pint of ice-cold beer with my grandfather, his father, until my mom and grandma were ready preparing the food. I chuckled at that. We had some great moments growing up... Before my father was gone.

It almost broke my grandpa to lose his son like that. But when I almost lost myself to drugs... What I did, broke him all over again. I could never forgive myself for the pain I brought to this family.

"Are you coming in, or are you staying there, champ?" My grandpa's voice was heard through the opened window.

I chuckled, as I entered his wooden cabin. The fire was burning wood in the fireplace, making you feel right at home. Even in the middle of summer, it was always colder up here and tonight was no exception, but the warmth of the fireplace made the cabin even more welcoming.

There was always something majestic about the outskirts of Chicago, near the woods. The air here was fresh, lighter. I missed this place, truly. If only I could bring my Angel here someday.

"How have you been, pops?"

"Sit here, old champ. Your mama told me what's happened to you. Are you alright?"

I chuckled again. "You have any beer pops?"

"You are your father's son, now, aren't you?" He said with a smile, before moving to fetch some beer for the both of us.

We were drinking our beer silently, enjoying each other's company in peace, the only noise coming from the burning wood. It was always like this with pops. He was a man of few words but who always spoke the truth, when he felt like it.

"I recognize that look on your face. I felt it too, champ, when I met the love of my life."

"Grandma?" I asked with raised eyebrows and he chuckled. I wasn't sure if he could really tell I was infatuated with someone or if he just felt the need to share his past with me. Nevertheless, I remained silent, waiting for him to tell me everything that was on the old man's mind.

"Don't get me wrong, I loved your grandma... She was my best friend. But the greatest love of my life... My soulmate, if you want, was a woman from Italy. 1948." He said taking a big gulp. "She came in the US because of the war. She wanted a better life for herself. Unfortunately, she got played... ended up being one of Elkins' girls down in Portland."

I took a deep breath, hearing the name. It's always one of them, always the same family. I knew the stories.

"The Dream Girl's at Fox's. She was just a girl, when I first laid eyes on her, but you could see the beauty and strength she had in her. They tried to break her..." He took another sip of his beer, before continuing the story. "She was only seventeen back then. I was, what, twenty two or something? I knew I had to get her out of there."

I didn't want to ask what happened, afraid he would stop telling me.

"Sophia Martina Durand. Even her surname meant to endure; and what pain did she endure. I was in love with her, wanted to leave with her. But back then... It was a different time." He sighed, looking behind me. "I managed to get her out, put her on a ship and she was on her way back to Europe." He said and headed towards the kitchen.

"Wait, pops... you just left her? On her own?"

"Like I said, times were different. We loved each other, but I had to let her go. We used to write to each other, like old friends. She and her late husband were always grateful for the help I gave her... She has kids now... and grandkids... She even wrote a book. It worked out well for all of us." He sighed.

I didn't know what to do with that piece of information. Is this what I must do? Leave Erika for good?

"Listen to me champ." He said and pulled the fabric of my t-shirt in his fists so I could look at him. "The one thing I know, is that feelings are rarely mutual. So, when they are, drop everything, forget the past, forget the games, the hard to gets because this is it, champ. This is what the entire world is after and you've stumbled upon it by chance."

"Pops I-" he shook me once to shut me up.

"You've stumbled upon it by accident. So, take a breath, take a step forward and run, collide like fire... Go find her, champ, embrace each other with both arms and let all the rules, the opinions and common sense burn down around you." He pulled back and plopped on his armchair staring at the fireplace, smiling.

"Because this is love, kid, and it's all yours. Believe me..." He chuckled. "You're in for one hell of a ride. I would know."