Hard Knocks Novels & Stories

Klempner I stab into the cement with my steel 'pick', then thump at the shaft with my fist, hoping for that rotten-tooth-in-socket nudge that might say it's finally working loose. Nothing... My stomach twists and churns. Beyond hunger now, my craving for food is a constant, griping, gnawing ache that drains energy and spirit. I could just lie down and wait for the end. Fuck that... My shoulders ache. My limbs ache. I keep changing from one hand to the other for my work, but now, knuckles and fingers are a mass of small cuts and abrasions which spike painful reminders at me with every move I make.

I pleaded with the guy with the mask on, and the other one kept kicking me. The other one searches my body like I’m some kind of whore. “Please, just take what you want. I don’t have anything else.” “Shut up, bitch.” the blood is flowing like a river out of my mouth. I can feel my ribs crack one by one as the person keeps kicking me. My vision became blurry. They kept hitting and kicking me until I could no longer focus on the pain anymore. I remember my stepfather used to keep telling me, “You're weak. You will never be able to defend yourself.”

“Just leave.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Malcolm’s jaw clenched when he heard the door close. Today was one of the worst days he had in a while both at work and at home . First, it was the issue of his investors taking their sweet time to sign the contract, then, when he came home, he found out that his kids were nowhere in sight. Afterwards, the self-absorbed, yet hot, nanny he employed, waltzed in, taking about what his kids liked and what they didn’t. How would she know what they liked? She couldn’t even look after them without them disappearing under her watch. How would he know?

He pushed a tiny metal thing out of my arm and slammed his foot against it. "What was that?" I gasped worriedly staring at the tiny little object that just came out of my arm. "It was your tracker" Roman stared at the crushed up pieces on the ground. I stared at the cut, getting flashbacks of my father and how he started using knives on me when he realised I was becoming immune (almost) from his beatings. "Sofia" Haze grabbed my attention again. "It's not definite ok? You can stay for a few days and see if you like being a fighter" Haze offered sounding like he was trying to persuade me into going with him.

He worried about the future of his career and about whether or not people would find out about the severity of his injury. “I've got to stay tough,” he said out loud. “I've got to grind hard and get through this.” It's not like physical therapy is going to be the worst thing I've ever gone through anyway, he thought. If the rest of it is anything like today, then it'll be a piece of cake. Some massages and a few simple exercises. No problem.

he asked. Snapping back to reality, Grace suddenly grabbed his arm tightly as a realization hit her. "Irvin's already made his move. He's driving my family into bankruptcy! You have to help me! If you don't, the Hardwells will be next!" she exclaimed, panicked. After hearing the details, Timothy's expression darkened. It seemed he had indeed underestimated Irvin. The Kellers weren't as powerful as the Hardwells, but they were still one of the top elite families in Lestoria. And yet, Irvin had silently pushed them to the brink of bankruptcy.

He had walked out of a statement and back into my walls. “Police let you breathe and you climbed my house,” I said. “Police like smiles,” Reid said. “Zara likes ducts. You keep leaving roofs and junk drawers for other people.” Zane kicked the knife under the cabinet and put a knee in Reid’s chest. “Alive is not a promise,” Zane said. Harden’s hands shook and still worked. Cable ties. Wrists. A knot that meant we were done being kind. “Hazard pay,” Harden muttered. “Ceiling pay. I want bread and a locked sky.”

I snapped out of my Dreamland when I heard the conversation ongoing between him and my father. “Sir, I'll pay your debt. I'm willing to pay it, but I don't have money,” Mr. Pat, my coward of a father, stammered ad he fell to his knees. I couldn't really blame him for getting on his knees because my knees were also getting weak. The aura this red-eyed man was emanating was too much for my poor soul.

The shadow of the man above me swung a tire iron, and I felt it in my gut. I had to fight for her. She has no one. Another blow hit hard, but this time to my leg. Before long I couldn't move or think. The only thing that I could focus on was Christmas. Hannah loved Christmas. Even though it was months away, I didn't want her to be alone for it. I had to survive for her. If you do anything, just survive for her. Everything went black a few seconds later. ***

I can't stand here and analyze this while I do nothing! "Noah! Stop it! Please stop!" I shriek, clawing at Noah's back. Oh I wish this was a week ago when I hadn't cut my very sharp, long nails. I beat against him with my fists, little useless smacks against a brick wall. When I take a look at Hardin, I shudder. Tears start streaming down my face, blurring the horrific sight of Hardin struggling, his face contorted in pain. His face a bloody mess. What can my pathetic little hands do against him?