I flung him into the filing cabinet, my fists shaking with a rage i had never felt before. All our years together in the ring man-on-man had never yielded such animosity as I felt now.
"How could you? How could you do this to me?" I howled as I flung him against the desk. Carbon paper spilled to the floor and i heard a loud clacking sound as his head hit the keys of a typewriter. My manager had always said to me before a fight, "Coburn, you punch. You punch hard. You're not a boxer, you're a puncher. Get that through your thick head." Tonight I finally did.
Despite my trade I never had anger management issues. Not even working my shit job as a clerk, pushing brooms and carrying groceries for stuck-up assholes. But tonight I learned the meaning of the word 'anger'.
"Years of playin' in fixed fights kept me from hittin' the big time." I snarled through hits. "I never had the heart to tell you before. You ain't shit, Juan. They keep you around 'cause of that pretty face. You think you're hot. You may be the face of boxing today, but let's see how hot you're gonna be after today."
I heard a clatter of things in the hallway. Probably the janitor. He was no stranger to brutality. I kept throwing my fists against Juan's body. I felt bones crack, and warm, sticky blood flowed across my hands. Normally I'd be hearing a crowd cheering, but all I could hear was the echo of my baby's screams and the sounds of Juan's pleasure.
"I told you to stay away from her, pretty boy. She ain't gonna want you now. Look at you. Can't even hold your own in a fight that ain't fixed. Little bastard. You stay away form her!"
Juan stared at my in horror, his face contorted and discolored by my fists. His eyes seemed to look right through me. I became aware of another presence in the room. Sobbing and pleading.
"Daddy, stop!"
I turned around and there was Molly in her pink dress, tears streaming down her face.
"Baby... " I reached a blood-covered hand toward her and she turned and ran.
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