~Punch’s Point of View~ *We need to get home, something feels weird, I don’t know what it is, but everything telling me to get home,* Mick says, panting. It’s gonna be damn near sunrise in a couple hours, and we’ve been out here running til our legs burned. Doze is being a dick about letting me go too far from the packhouse, but I don’t want to be at the there because I can’t fuck my adopted sister who is in my bed and hurt because I didn’t get to her in time. I also can’t take my frustrations out about losing Roddy on the piece of shit in our basement who likely is helping to funnel drugs into my territory. So all around, going home does NOT sound appealing. So I’ve been running my wolf for hours, outside of Dozer and Mona’s house. Afraid to go to the place that’s been my haven and sanctuary now for years. Might even just crash here. I also got some news about my fight that I’m not sure how to handle, what to make of it. I don’t like fighting males that I don’t feel are in my lea

~Punch’s Point of View~ “That’s what you’re eating? Where’s the fun,” Hazel asks, as she falls next to me at the table. She’s got a cookie in her hand. I look down at my salmon, chicken and veggies. Mags knows what I need in the days before a fight. I eat like six meals a day, all high protein. I don’t get nervous so I don’t need my gut fucked up by some bad or greasy food. The fight is tomorrow and I’m not risking getting the shits just to enjoy a cheeseburger and fries. Rookies do that shit and I’ve been fighting for years now. “Looks that way,” I say, before shoving in a mouthful. *Be nice asshole,* Mick warns, as I swallow hard. It’s nearly eleven at night, and I’m fucking exhausted. Grouch is hardly in a position to box me, but that doesn’t stop him from standing on the side of the ring and yelling at me like he did this in his hay day. I’m sure at any age one punch from Punch would have knocked him out cold. He always gets like this before I fight cause he always bets a sh

~Punch’s Point of View~ “Punch? Are you okay,” Hatch asks, as I stop hitting the bag he’s holding. His little face looks full of concern and the last thing I want is these pups worrying about me. I wipe my face with my forearm and sigh. Yeah, everything's just peachy. I’ve literally never cared much at all about who I fight. But this is all so wrong, bad, fucked up. How’s it also look that Hazel was just dating the very kid at her FATHER’S request that I’m now about to beat into a pulp or worse? Mona loved the kid too, I can’t believe she’s okay with this. *Now’s the time,* Mick says, matter of fact and I have to agree. The clock is ticking. *Doze, you around? Can you come by the gym,* I ask, over mind-link. *Yeah son, lemme wash up, I’m in the garage,* he replies, and I grab a towel to better wipe my face. I give Hatch a pat on the shoulder and thank him for helping me. On fight days I don’t push myself too much, just a light workout to warm up and keep me fluid. I know Mona a

~Punch’s Point of View~ Mick roars through me, sprouting fur in different places when her name comes out of his mouth. My instinct is to look at Dozer but I can’t. My wolf won’t let me as he takes over my eyes. The donkey with the mic says something else as the crowd goes wild. I was going to try and play this just enough for the bookies to make their money. For our pack to make their money. But he had to say her name. He doesn’t even know what he just did. So he thinks this fight is for Hazel? Is THAT the bullshit his father fed him?? I can only laugh, especially when my face was buried in her pussy last night. When it was MY name being screamed out of her lips. When her naked, soft and warm body was in my arms this morning. When she’s begging for me every time she opens her mouth. When it’s my cock that will be pounding her virgin heat tonight. Yeah I’ll have to wear a rubber until she gets her wolf, but after that… we’re making babies. She won’t even remember this fuck’s name

~Punch’s Point of View~ I stare at the brilliant crescent moon as the world whizzes by. Good people, safe in their homes. Believing that this place is safe, it’s a haven for their families. That the almighty Flying Death are their fierce protectors. I’ve never really had the “what does it all mean” bullshit swirl in my brain. But tonight couldn’t possibly be more unlike any other night. How I went from feeling completely untouchable, completely on top of the world to feeling more lost than ever… I’m still trying to grasp. The rumble of the truck beneath me reminds me I’m not alone, though I feel as if I’m floating so far off that I doubt anyone can bring me back. Fingers drives at a calm and average pace through our territory, trying to act normal. Nothing like his usual mad dash of driving as though he’s in a monster truck show. Normal, tsk. *You okay brother,* Shock asks, over mind-link. He’s in the truck with Fingers and it took both of them to rip me away from Red’s mangled