Scars Of A Broken Bond

“Why?” Tyrone broke the silence, his teeth clenched. “Why did you do it?” The question wasn’t explicit, but the meaning was clear to both of them.

After a prolonged silence, Larry chuckled.

“Why? I don’t know. Maybe it was just a whim.”

“A whim!” Tyrone seethed, barely controlling his anger

They both remained silent for the rest of the trip.

Once they arrived at the club, the waiter escorted them to a room. The waiter opened the door for them, extending a welcoming gesture.

“Please, come in.”

Tyrone gave Larry a stoic glance, and Larry entered the room.

he paused to address the waiter. “We’ll talk and didn’t want to be

The waiter nodded.

Mr. Blakely. Should you require anything,

the door. Larry watched as Tyrone hung his coat on the hanger, then removed his jacket and loosened his tie, tossing

to Larry as he rolled

Whack!

blow, his

he staggered back, instinctively clutching his swollen and

on his fingers just as Tyrone delivered another powerful

knuckles connecting with flesh as he struck again,

swollen, black and

resilience, Larry extended his arm and successfully intercepted Tyrone’s punch. In a

of Tyrone’s mouth. He casually wiped it away, then let out a primal roar, hurling himself at Larry. They crashed to

the other slumped on the sofa. Their hair was disheveled, their faces bloodied and bruised, and their bodies drenched in sweat.