Chapter 2 

“Someone get rid of this son of a bitch!” One of the men screeched, his hands reaching for the neck of bench-guy who was collapsed on the floor. What the fuck, is he actually planning on killing him right in front of me?! Mateo thought, jabbing someone in the head before kicking him in the groin for good measure after a cross strike.

He rushed forwards, grabbing the man’s hand and pulling his finger back at a frankly disgusting angle until he heard the crack he was looking for. The man growled in pain, taking a reflexive step away from Mateo. In that fraction of a second, Mateo grabbed the arm of the man on the ground, realising that he wasn’t in fact unconscious.

That’s good, means I won’t have to drag him to safety myself, Mateo mused, helping the guy to his feet. The two were entirely surrounded, and bench-guy still looked pretty ragged; Mateo had no idea if he’d be able to fight in this state at all. 

To his surprise, the man successfully managed to strike one of his attackers in the face. Mateo just shrugged, aiming a flying knee strike at his own assailant’s head, successfully knocking the man out. 

Whilst Mateo was dealing with his own portion of men who may or may not be from the mafia, he would occasionally glance over at bench-guy. Mateo wasn’t exactly sure what kind of martial art the man was using; it looked like some combination of multiple. Whatever it was though - it was effective.

Mateo also found that bench-guy was surprisingly easy to work with as well; the two always picked opponents from sides which meant that neither Mateo nor his ally could get ambushed from behind, as well as each of them occasionally helping to defeat each other’s attackers.

At some point, there were only two opponents left. “Listen I suggest you just piss off, ok? Unless you particularly want me to jab you in the head, that is,” Mateo claimed nonchalantly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

In reality, he didn’t want to continue the fight for that long. He had the energy and stamina, but his breathing was getting a little difficult. Downside of wearing my binder, he thought with a slight grimace. 

One of the men clicked his tongue, grabbing the other man’s shoulder and pulling him back towards the car. “Pick up the boys later,” he said quietly to his subordinate. He then turned back to Mateo and the bench-guy, narrowing his gaze on the latter.

“Listen here Hargrave, you may have been lucky this time, but you won’t be the next. Who knows, maybe it won’t be you we want a little chat with. How is your little brother by the way?” 

The man visibly froze, his gaze darkening. “Leave him out of it. We’ve already told you multiple times and we’ll tell you again as many as you need to get it past those thick skulls of yours: we aren’t involved in those kinds of dealings anymore. Just leave my family alone, and we’ll leave you alone.”

The other man just scoffed, pulling open his car door. “We’ll see about that,” he said as he slammed the door shut, pulling out of the park. The other man quickly followed suit in the other car whilst Mateo surveyed the ground, which was still littered with passed out or slightly groaning men who should probably go see a doctor.

A shutter sounded behind them and Mateo whipped around, worry flaring as he saw Carla with her phone out. “Thought it’d be smart to get their number plates, just in case,” she said innocently.

Mateo grinned, glancing back at bench-guy. He was gently pressing a hand to his head, his eyes squeezed shut. “Hey, you want to go to the hospital or something? You might be concussed,” Mateo suggested, taking a step towards the man.

Now that they weren’t in any imminent danger (or so Mateo really hoped) he was able to get a good look at the man. He was maybe Southeast Asian - Mateo wasn’t entirely sure - with dark black bangs either side of his face just resting atop his cheekbones. The man shook his head before clearly thinking better of it, scrunching his eyes closed more.

“I’m fine. Thank you for your help, you really saved me there,” he said after a moment, peeling one eye open to look at Mateo. The Spaniard just shrugged, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets. 

“No problem. You sure about the hospital though? Because you really don’t look so good.”

The man grimaced, removing his hand from his head and standing up slightly straighter, most likely in an effort to look like he wasn’t about to possibly pass out at any moment. Mateo sighed, turning to his sister. 

“Carlita, can you tall mama that I’ll be back later. I’m taking this guy to the hospital whether he likes it or not,” Mateo proclaimed, smiling as his sister nodded quickly, placing a kiss on his cheek before grabbing their abandoned picnic blanket and hurrying home.

Turning back to the man, Mateo slid his gaze to him. “I’m not going to take no for an answer, so just get checked up ok? Make sure you didn’t damage your brain or whatever.”

The man just sighed, combing his fingers through his hair for a moment before giving in and nodding carefully. “Fine. Only on one condition though,” he added after a moment. Mateo side-eyed the man, ever wary of ‘conditions’ and other things which could be used to get back at him.

“What is it?” He asked slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on the man. “Tell me your name so that I can repay you. My family always repays those who help us,” he said surprisingly brightly. Mateo quirked an eyebrow, grabbing the man’s wrist and leading him out of the park.

“Yeah well I helped out just to help out. I don’t want to be repaid or anything. So I see no reason to tell you my name,” he said relaxedly, checking left and right at the road before crossing over. He visited the hospital semi-regularly whenever he had to go pick up his testosterone shots so he knew the way decently well by now.

“Oh come on, at least give me your name. I’ve never seen you around before, and you’ve got good skills. I’m just curious,” the man said nonchalantly, but Mateo continued pulling him along in complete silence until they reached the hospital. 

Mateo then proceeded to not say anything to the man until he was safely lying down on a hospital bed after being diagnosed with a concussion. Mateo just crossed his arms with a huff, sitting down carefully on the chair next to the hospital bed. “See, I told you we should come here uh,” he glanced at the end of the man’s bed, where there was a sheet of paper with ‘concussion’ written neatly in a box at the top, along with some other boring things which Mateo didn’t bother to absorb into his brain.

“Jedidiah Hargrave,” he said eventually, finding the only other thing on the sheet which he was interested in. But when he glanced back at Jedidiah, the man was already asleep.