XXIV
A few weeks later
The space was small, smaller than I would expect a court room to be. If I remember correctly, the one back in the states was bigger than this one.
I felt hideous, dressed in prisoner's clothing while everyone around me wore suits. The guards didn't allow me to wore one myself because they're a bunch of miserable dicks and want to see others miserable, too.
Nervously, I rub my hands on my thighs. "Come on, now, we got this shit, don't worry."
I give coach a side glare. "Last time I heard that from you, I ended up in a fucking cell. Don't jinx us and say something like:'Oh, shit, you're so screwed.'".
"Oh, shit, you're so screwed." he obliges my request and I nod my head, pleased. "Thank you."
"On a serious note though, don't be nervous. Today you will walk out of here a free man, mark my words."
"Consider them marked." I reply and hope that was it for the banter and the fucking pep talk.
I was here today to get out of the mess I've gotten myself into, and that's it.
"So the plan is...?"
"You keep your mouth shut and stay calm and your job is done, boy." he lifts his brows to emphasize, like he doesn't believe that I'm able to go through with that.
To be honest, I'm a bit skeptic about that myself.
"Okay, anything else?" I ask and he shakes his head. "Do that and I won't ever expect anything from you ever again." replies his lying ass. Truth is, he's gonna expect me to win every single fight from the second I get out of this shit hole.
Ever since I've been here, my career has been on a roller coaster ride - the first week I was apparently on the front page of every newspaper, every magazine and the story of every news on television, after that the excitement thankfully died and now that my court date was approaching, it built up again.
It's annoying as fuck, but at least it helps me in the way that the rest of the prisoners are scared shitless of me, unlike they were in the U.S.
Dread fills me at the memories from back then, that horrible few months when my life was at its all time low point - I was suffering from alcohol addiction, depression and got into a new fight every single day back there - most I won, but not all of them, and even that didn't help because then the guards beat the shit out of me afterwards.
The hits didn't hurt as much as the endless insults, and no one's insults hurt as much as my subconsciousness' while I was locked up in that room by myself, going literally crazy.
It's the period of time that I absolutely refuse to speak about, but it's on my mind a lot of the time.
I'm brought to reality when the judge starts to speak, but I have trouble following and staying focused because of my fucking nervousness. Before long, Bill stands up to defend me and all I can read out it's that it's not going too well for me.
Who the fuck was it already that told me he's the best fucking lawyer?
Oh, yeah. Fucking coach.
I groan inwardly, wishing it was someone I could actually be mad at.
"So here's the thing; they don't buy it completely, but I think we can get you out on some sort of bail." Bill quietly tells me. Great, even more money going to shit.
Coach looks at me, his lips pursed in a way that is obviously trying to comfort me and I let out a deep breath, gulping. "Fine, just get me the fuck out of this shit."
And he does.
For the price of 50 thousand bucks, but still. Better than staying locked up for another few months, possibly years.
The room goes frantic after the end of the show, everything seems to be moving around me, while I'm locked, trapped in my body, watching it all go down. I don't think about what I'm doing while paying the bail, while being give my own damned clothes and things, while being returned the freedom that I value more and more with each passing day.
Fucking finally.
The moment I step out of the court, something cold lands on my nose, and looking up, I see millions and millions of snowflakes coming down on me, and I smile.
Thanks, god, you son of a bitch.
"Dave, how does it feel to be free again?"
"Tell us when you start boxing again! Will you start practicing this afternoon already?"
"What about Sophie? Is it true you two are engaged and that she's pregnant?"
"What about the rumours about you being single? Is it true you're back on the market? Dave!"
I push past what feels like hundredsannoying ass paparazis, and coach pushes me into the back of the car to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.
"Oh, hell no, I'm driving my baby." I push him out of the driver's seat and force him out back into the paparazis. He glares at me and I show him my tongue, feeling happy, feeling free and it's a good fucking feeling.
"Dick." he accuses me when he sits in the car, making me laugh while I step on gas, forcing people to run away from the car.
Gotta give them a little warning that Axel's back on the streets, huh?