Chapter 1
Ivy's POV
I always thought that I'd be somebody that always had hope. Somebody that always smiled. Somebody more. A lot changes in 6 years though and I've moved on from naivety.
I turn the speed up on the treadmill and quicken my pace. I have to keep running, running from the part of me that I've learned to lock away. A part of myself that doesn't deserve freedom. I have to keep moving for them, that is the only reason.
"Ivy, get off of that running machine, you've been on for over 2 hours. Get back, now!" My foster mother, Jane, shouts from the door. Don't be fooled, she and her husband only fostered me for the money to support their drug addiction. Thankfully, I turn 18 in 3 months so I can get out of this god-forsaken town. It's the same old people with the same old attitude, I have to start looking for a place, maybe Washington. Or Seattle, actually New York is nice. Anywhere away from Rosewood- a small town nestled in north Oregon.
"It's called a treadmill, you gremlin," I mutter before turning off the machine and walk over to the benches to stretch. While I'm stretching my arms I hear a deep laugh from the weights section. Turning, I find the most beautiful guy looking my way, I smirk and then wink before leaving the gym. I wonder why I haven't seen him in the building before?
I enter the dirty apartment that I call home, well not really but you get my point. I see Jane and Dan on the sofa, surrounded by beer bottles and empty packets that probably used to contain a certain white substance. I go into my room and pack my outfit for my fight later and put a dress and heels in as well. I decide to just wash up as I'll be getting a shower later anyway. I change into some jeans and a plain shirt with my boots. I quickly clean the living area and leave for the ring.
Sticking my earphones in my ears and playing Bon Jovi, I walk to the ring instead of catching the bus. As soon as I arrive, I change into my gym clothes and start to hit the punching bag with a considerable amount of force.
"Wasn't you on the treadmill for, what, 2 hours before. That is what 'gremlin' said. Why do you call your mom a gremlin?" A voice asks from beside me, I turn to see the guy from before.
"What? Are you stalking me or something?" I laugh.
"Do you want me too, love?" he winks. Oh god.
"Only if you start to send me chocolates, that way I'd get something out of it," I reply, playing it cool.
"Are dodging my questions, love?" he asks.
"Ivy, it's time!" I hear Tom, the man who runs the ring, shout. Saved by the bell.
"Maybe next time, my stalker," I wink, realising I don't know his name. I hear him begin to say something but I'm already out of the door before he can finish.
"Who am I fighting? Another amateur?" I ask Tom, thinking back to the last one who I beat in 20 seconds. Literally.
"This one is actually good so don't get too cocky," he replies cooly but with a hint of concern in his voice. Tom is my only friend.
"I'm the best at what I do, don't worry. If I do die though, you can write a shitty newspaper article about me being a great fighter but having an off day," I joke, earning a throaty laugh.
"And risk having my illegal fighting business shut down? I don't think so, how about some crummy flowers?"
"We both know that flowers aren't my style, how about we settle for my iPod with my amazing songs on it?" He looks at me with disgust on his face.
"So you could make hell even more miserable for everybody else with your terrible music? It's not like you could harm me anyway, you'd be dead." I raise my eyebrow at his response.
"Screw you. I have great taste in music and that's final!" I pout before we get to my changing room.
"Fight starts in 10, be quick," he yells and then leaves the room. I quickly smear some red lipstick on and tie my mask around my head.
I hear the crowd chant 'KILLER' from the stands, I love it when they cheer me on. I crack my knuckles in anticipation while my opponent stares at me hungrily, creep. He's about 6'2" and is at least 175 lbs, I can use his weight to my advantage. Remember, you fight to win, not just so you don't lose.
I hear the whistle signalling the beginning of the fight, he approaches me first, interesting, he's confident. He takes the first swing so I duck and then sweep my leg under his feet, he falls, a loud thud echoing through the arena. I climb on top of him and begin to choke him, he's too heavy to switch positions so he kicks at my back. I hold out and he eventually taps out. That was boring, I need better opponents. The crowd cheer and shout, probably at their winnings.
