The Best Mistake

Nash.

"Nash! Where the fuck are you?!" I didn't even wince when I heard my fathers voice pierce through the house. My eyes flickered toward the closet, but I pulled them away to stare at the blank wall in front of me. I wasn't going to hide from him; it'd give him too much satisfaction.

My bedroom was plain because I'd learned over the years that the less I had present, the less the beatings hurt. I had a single bed, which was less comfortable than a worn out couch. There was a brown dresser off to the corner and that was about it. My room wasn't that big, anyway. I only jumped slightly when my door opened, slamming into the wall. It would've put a hole in the wall, had there not already been one. "Where the fuck were you last night?!" my father asked.

I shrugged. "Here," I lied.

"Don't fucking lie to me, boy!" Suddenly the back of his hand connected with my cheek. I resisted the urge to laugh in his face; I mean, really, backhanding me? Really? I looked at the alarm clock sitting on top of my dresser. It was 5:44, which meant my dad had about fifteen minutes to finish up before I had to go.

"I'm not lying," I said through gritted teeth. I could feel the anger from him as he pulled me out of my bed by my elbow and threw me on the floor, kicking me in my stomach. That one hurt. He wore steel-toed boots, which I've come to the conclusion he only wears to kick me. For somebody who's almost always drunk, high on something or sleeping, he sure is strong.

"You don't-" Kick. "Fucking lie-" Kick. "To me-" Kick. "Got it?" And with one last kick that left me gasping for breath, he left, slamming the door as he went.

I laid on the floor a little longer, finding the cold, hardwood floor comfortable. I closed my eyes as I waited for the pain to subside. The cold floor soothed my cheek, the burning quickly going away. And though I could feel bruises forming on my stomach, the pain in my side wouldn't go away. "Mother fucker!" I hissed as I realized it had started bleeding again. How the hell am I supposed to fix this?

Levi's mom is the one who usually fixes me up, since she's a nurse at the local hospital. But once I go to her, she won't let me leave for the night. I held my side as I stood up, and opened the door. I heard the TV blasting from the living room and I hurried into the bathroom. I quickly removed the ruined white t-shirt and removed the gauze from my body, barely wincing. I examined the wound in disbelief- it'd been over a week since that guy stabbed me, and it's still bleeding like this? Being as careful as possible, I pulled alcohol and gauze out from underneath the sink. I found a small wash rag and shrugged. It should keep the bleeding from going through.

I poured the alcohol over the wound, hissing in pain and biting the inside of my cheek. I could taste blood but I didn't care, this fucking hurt. Anger flared inside of me. This guy was fucking dead.

Levi.

"Can I go? Please?" Jas asked me as I slipped on my shoes.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Jas. No. You are not going, end of story," I said.

"Why the hell not?!" she exclaimed. I sighed, getting more annoyed by the second. I didn't want to have this argument with her again.

"Because if Nash does something idiotic, and they see you, they will come after your ass!" I told her. "And I am not letting something happen to you."

"You're being an ass," she said, eyes narrowed at me. I almost caved and agreed, so she could understand and be scared shitless. But I actually have a heart, so I decided against it.

I shrugged. "You love me, I don't care," I said.

She crossed her arms, her glare not fading a bit. "I'm not going to have sex with you until you take me to one of these fights," she said.

"I don't care," I lied.

"Yeah you do," she said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, please? I'll stay in the backseat of your truck and I won't let them see me."

"They can see through the window, Jas," I told her. "They try to recognize the vehicle in case they need to find us again."

"We can take my car, the windows are tinted," she said.

I sighed, rubbing my hands over my face. I needed a cigarette. "I am not taking the chance of them seeing your car afterward. No means no," I said. I felt like I was talking to a little kid begging me for candy.

"How do you make your car unrecognizable?" she asked.

I shrugged. "We just put tape over the tags and I have a similar car as a lot of people," I said.

"There, we can put tape over my tags and I'll be in the backseat, nobody will know I'm there," she said. I made a mistake by looking at her. She pouted her bottom lip slightly. "Please?"

I looked at the clock and realized I had to leave now. "Fine," I grumbled. "But no sex for you."

She giggled. "We'll see," she said.

Nash.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" I asked as I got in the car that was parked at the end of my street. I knew it was Jas', I just figured Levi convinced her to let him take it.

"She used the face," Levi mumbled, speeding off.

"You know you're making a big mistake, right?" I told him, throwing the black book bag on the ground.

"Oh, I'm very aware," he said.

I shrugged. Not my problem. I pulled out the ductape from the book bag before zipping it up and throwing it in the back seat. "You explained to her that it's vital she stays unseen, right?" I asked.

"What do you think?" he asked me like I was stupid. I shrugged as he came to a stop. I quickly got out and covered the license plates with the silver ductape, making sure no part of it was able to be seen. I got back in the car and saw Levi taking the tacky shit off of the rear view mirror.

"Why are you taking that stuff off?" Jas asked.

"I told you, they analyze every part of the car you come in. You can't have anything that'll make them recognize your car," Levi explained.

"You're not doing this kind of stuff, are you?" she asked in a worried tone. I rolled my eyes.

"Of course not, Jas," he said.

"You shouldn't either, Nash," she said. If I had a dime every time I heard that...

"Thanks, Oprah. I'll keep that in mind while I bash this guys head in," I said, bitterly as I felt my side clench. It felt like somebody kept digging a finger into the cut, but I wasn't going to let it stop me from this rematch. "Can you get the plastic bag and water bottle out of that book bag?"

She nodded before handing me the bag full of money and the bottle. "How much money is that?" she asked, surprised.

"Don't pretend like you haven't seen bigger bills," I said, rolling my eyes. "But it's $450."

"You sure you should be betting all of it?" Levi asked, looking unsure about my decision.

I took a long drink out of the bottle, ignoring how the alcohol burned my throat. "Of course, I got this," I said.

"Down, Jas," Levi growled as we pulled into the alley. She quickly fell to the ground and I chuckled. Levi turned the car off. I stared at the three guys staring down our car as he spoke. "Look, play clean. Jas is here and I'm not letting anything happen to her. So if you decide to pull anything sketchy, I'm leaving your ass. Okay?"

"Ay ay, cap'n," I said, mock saluted him.

He rolled his eyes. "I mean it, Nash," he said.

I gave him a thumbs up as I got out of the car. "Well, if it isn't the little pansy who decides to bring knives because they can't fend for themselves," I said, glaring at the guy. I think his name was Butch. Or Bitch. I don't know nor do I really care.

Bitch laughed. "There were no rules laid down," he said.

"That's why you don't go under the table and fight, dumb asses," Blade said, snorting. He normally 'books fights'. I know, weird. But he's basically a legend when it comes to street-fighting, but he decided to tie the knot with some hooker he met a few years back and dropped out of the game. Now he's kind of like the head guy. In order to have a fair match with fair consequences, you go through him. If not, anything goes. Which is how Bitch was able to stab me and win, and how I was able to take the money from the big Russian dude I fought last weekend. "Money. Now." I threw my bag at him and Bitch gave him a brown wallet that looked like it costed a fortune.

"Only douche bags spend that much money on a wallet," I said, rolling my eyes.

"How old are you, boy?" Bitch asked.

"Hey!" Blade snapped. "I have a hot meal waiting for me at home, with desert consisting of my wife's ass, so if you pricks wanna do this, you'll shut the fuck up. You, over here. No interfering." Bitch's friend stood behind Blade. "Now, any weapons, throw them over here." I didn't move, neither did Bitch. "Alright, go for it."

It took me 20 minutes before Bitch gave up and I walked away with $900.