by Dawn Doyle
My nostrils flared painfully, my facial muscles tugging at every cut and bruise on my face. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”
“I don’t particularly like getting in the business of hurting women, Lucian,” he said pursing his lips, then his expression dropped. “Oh, wait”—he clicked his fingers while grinning—“I do. I’m all about equality. Drop her, or I will, and it won’t be pretty.”
I glared at him, keeping my damn mouth shut before I gave him any more fuel to use against us. My hands shook and my arms convulsed, desperate to reach over the table and squeeze the life out of his stringy neck. I could do easily, he must have weighed one-forty soaking wet. I spread my fingers wide on the table, forcing myself to stay put. I knew he had a piece in his drawer, and the second I made a move to put his brains through the back of his head, I’d have a bullet in mine, not to mention Titan’s scary as shit presence looming outside.
“Murphy pulled his leech, now you’re gonna do the same to yours, because if I have to get my hands dirty to keep you focused on your job, kid, no amount of scrubbing will get these nails clean.” He held them out for effect. “Now, get the fuck out of my office, and empty your baggage for your next fight.”
“I played with her emotions to hurt her as much as I could,” I whispered, sinking down onto my bed. “I dug that blade in so deep and I didn’t stop until I’d made her think that she meant nothing to me.”
“It worked.”
“Too fucking well!” I roared. I reached to my nightstand and picked up the necklace I’d bought as her late birthday present.
“Lucian, you didn’t have a choice.”
“But I did. I had the choice of leaving her the fuck alone, but I didn’t,” I hissed. “I should’ve let her go on believing I’d been a huge prick to her at the beginning, but I couldn’t.” I ground the heels of my hands in to my red-hot eyes. “And you know the worst part of it? The thing I was most afraid of, I tried so fucking hard to make happen, and I did it.”
“Lucian—”
“I wanna be alone, Brady,” I cut in, grabbing the covers and pulling them over my body like a cocoon. “I’m tired.”
I heard the click of the catch, and Brady’s footsteps growing faint as he walked away. I held on, keeping everything contained for as long as I could, but my body was wracked with tremors, my chest heaved, and my stomach tensed under the growing pressure as I refused to release the volcano building inside of me. My heart ached and I clutched at it while tucking my legs up until I was curled in a ball. I yanked the cover over my head as I broke, the howls of pain ripping from my roughened throat muffled against the pillow.
*****
“You look like shit, kid. You better sort yourself out before your next fight comes up, and I don’t mean painting your nails and putting on a touch of rouge.” Larry turned his nose up and his lips twisted in disgust. “Get rid of the grisly on your face and get some beauty sleep. You’re the eye candy around here, and I can’t disappoint the ladies by having you coming in looking like you’ve walked in off the streets.” He shook his head at my disheveled appearance.
I did look like shit, and I felt like it too. The worst fucking kind there was. Grace’s words to Luca haunted me every fucking day, and I knew she’d been right all along—I was the worst. I wanted to change that, and no matter what I had to do, I was going to get her back—I fucking had to. I couldn’t go on with the emptiness inside of me, the giant hole that had been left behind when she walked out of my life. Nothing could fill it, not even training and fighting at every chance I got would put a dent in the void. I was going fight to get back what was mine, but I had get out of the sinking sand now before it sucked me under for good.
I stood facing Larry as he poured two fingers of Scotch into a tumbler. The noise from the pit carried inside, the bellows of support for their fighter, their desperation to win big drowning out Larry’s footsteps across the stone floor.
“So, are you here to talk business, or just stand there looking like your favorite dog just got ran over. Do you have a dog, Lucian?” he asked and I shook my head. “Pity, because I would fucking run it over in a heartbeat if it meant you cutting to the fucking chase. I’m a busy man and the clock is ticking.”
Busy man, my ass. He just sat back while somebody else made him richer. By the sound of the fight out there, he was walking away with the kind of money that would flag up if deposited in one go.
“I’m done.”
“I’m sorry”—he held onto his ear lobe—“that sounded like you said you wanted out.”
“That’s exactly what it was,” I said, but I knew just saying that wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
He tapped his battery powered lamp to make it a little brighter, then closed his laptop. “Hmm, let me see,” he sighed. He sat down in his rusted metal framed chair, the cheap kind that folded away. “You think that telling me you want out is going to make it so?” He lifted his feet and placed them on the desk, crossing his ankles as though he were just appeasing me, waiting for me to give him some pleading speech, only to throw in my face with a huge fucking ‘no, and get out of my office.’ “I think you’ve been hit in the head one too many times, my boy.” He knocked his fist against the side of his head. “Loosened some of the gray matter in your thick skull.”
“Do you want money? You can have it back, I don’t give a fuck.” What I needed was worth more than any amount of cash.
Larry threw his head back and laughed. “You think I need money? Come on, I thought you were smarter than that. I wouldn’t say no to a decent payout, far from it, but what I make from you in one fight is far more than what you’ve earned so far.”
I held my tongue because he was right. I got a tiny fraction of what he made off of me breaking bones for him. Just a scraping of the cream on the top, and he got the whole gallon of milk underneath.
“I’m not doing this anymore,” I said, focusing on the glass as he brought it to his lips. “I did what you wanted, I’ve made you a shit ton of money, and now I want my fucking life back.”
Larry pulled his lips back over his teeth after he swallowed some of the amber liquid. “This is good stuff,” he said, twirling the glass and watching the contents swirl around. I wanted to break it on his face and grind it into his skin. “A gift from one of my satisfied customers. Aged well, twenty-one years.” His lips stretched out into a smile. “Just like you, eh? You gotta be coming up to the mark now, kid. You were, what, just turned eighteen when I took you in?”
Took me in? Forced me in, then used my adolescent ego against me. I continued to stare, waiting for him to tell me what I needed to hear. “I’m not here to discuss things that don’t concern you,” I said, wanting him to get to the point.
He glared. “Oh, but everything about you concerns me.” He dropped his feet and leaned his arm on the wooden surface. “When you belong to me, I own every goddamn thing about you. Your fists, your blood, your life.” He threw his head back, drained the glass, then slammed it down. “You just expect me to let you walk out of here?”
“Cops are still investigating Murphy’s death,” I began, hoping that this would work. It had to. “When they find out we were friends, and they will, do you think they’re gonna just leave it at that?” I walked forward, then pressed my palms against the edge of the table, the wood creaking under my weight. “They come for looking for me, they’re gonna find you. There’s more than one person with photography skills,” I finished, throwing his words back at him, and I didn’t miss that twitch in his eye and the realization that he was fucked if he didn’t let me go. Part of me wished I’d done it in the first place, letting him know that allowing Murphy to die had signed his prison papers. The other part of me knew that if I’d have done just that, it would’ve meant serious shit for Luca. But now, I had nothing to lose, and Larry had himself to thank for that.
He put his feet up again, and interlocked his fingers, resting them against his gray suit jacket, and tapped his thumbs on his chest.
“Okay, so you have a point Lucian, and I’m grateful you’ve brought that to my attention, so in light of that, I’ll have to weigh up my options.”
Good, the wheels were turning. He looked to be in thought, and while I waited for him to end our deal, I grew impatient. It had been more than a month since I’d pushed Luca away, and the thought of her getting over me and finding somebody else made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t let happen. She was mine, and nobody was going to take her away from me.
“No,” he said finally, and the air left my lungs in one breath. “You’re a smart kid, Lucian. You managed to keep your little secret for a while, and I’m sure that as this puts you at risk too, I trust you’ll do everything in your power to make sure you don’t attract unwanted guests to my door.”
“You bastard,” I ground out, slapping my palm against the desk. I’d wasted my fucking breath. “Our deal is over!”
“Calm yourself,” Larry demanded, pulling the drawer out and showing me his pistol. “I’d hate it if I had to put you down. I can’t exactly pay myself, can I? And, it’s hardly fair.” He tilted the pistol and gestured to the black metal piece. “It’s a one shot kinda deal.”
There was something else; I could see it. He’d seen my reaction and was going to come at me with more, and I wasn’t going to like it. His calculating stare trained on me. He’d been toying with me like a cat does with a mouse. Having me think for one minute I was free, only to drag me back into his clutches, letting me know my fight against him was getting me nowhere fast.
“But…”
I recognized the expression that came with that. His determined gaze; a plan formed behind them that would amuse him while serving another purpose. One side of his mouth turned up before the other joined it. His attempt to make it look like he’d come up with a solution for everyone didn’t work on me. I could see right through his bullshit.
“But, what?” I snapped.
“I’ll end our current deal for another.”
Fuck this shit!
I was not doing any more deals with this cunt. “I won’t make any more fucking deals,” I snarled.
“Yeah, you will, cos this is the one that’ll shut the door on this entire thing, kid. No more pit, no more fights, and we never have to cross paths ever again. It will be final. Now, the question is to you. Do you want to keep our current arrangement, or take the second option? The choice is yours.”
Luca
Six pounds lighter and counting. I couldn’t afford to lose weight. I was the kind of girl that if only a little was dropped, it went from my face first. Makeup couldn’t disguise my sunken eyes, and my hollowed cheeks had lost their color. My gaunt appearance was only made worse by the sharpened lines of my chin and jaw. It had gotten to the point that my mom had begun to look closer at me, watching everything that passed my lips, and hanging around near the bathroom when I had to pee.
I hadn’t meant to stop eating as much; I just couldn’t. Every bite that went into my stomach wanted to come right back up, and most of my meals were left unfinished. This wasn’t normal; it couldn’t be. I should’ve been mad—of course, anybody would be and I had every right to be fucking livid—but it had been a month and I was still crying myself to sleep at night.
No matter what he’d said to me, and no matter how much I wanted to hated every part of him, I couldn’t. Something inside me wouldn’t let go, as though my subconscious was cropping up in the background, telling me not to give up.
I sounded like Grace, the way she held onto Murphy, hoping he’d wake up and realize that he did love her like he’d told her every day.
“I want you to eat all of that,” my mom said, pointing her fork toward my plate.
I was sat at the dining table for dinner, unable to eat anything more. “I’m full,” I lied.
“You aren’t leaving this table until your plate is empty.” My mom’s concerned eyes dropped from me, to the pushed around food, then me again. “Your father is worried about you too, Luca. This isn’t like you at all. You’ve become distant these past few weeks.”
“I know.” And I did. I was snappy and irritable, and so unlike me I didn’t recognize myself. “I’m sorry.”
She slowly lowered her fork to the table and rested her elbows on the surface, linking her fingers together. “You’re losing weight, Luca, don’t think I haven’t noticed. I know girls your age are under pressure to look a certain way, but you don’t need to lose weight.”
I breathed in deeply through my nose and slowly let it back out. “I’m not trying, I promise. I’m just not…” I’d made the mistake of looking into her eyes and seeing not only concern, but a mother’s intuition. “Mom, I’m fine.”
“Then please tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” She lowered a hand and placed it over mine. “Whatever you need, honey, I’m right here.”
“No, I’m good, but thank you.” I pulled my hand from under hers and stood quickly, kissing her cheek before taking my plate and clearing the contents away before she could corner me in the kitchen.
What I needed, my mom couldn’t give me; nobody could. I shook my head only a fraction, worried that if I did any more, the wells in my eyes would spill over. I was such a damn mess that I couldn’t control myself around my parents. What kind of teenager was I when I couldn’t even pretend I was just great and that the sunshine beamed from my happiness on a daily basis? Any other person my age had no problem deceiving those around them—I’d learned so much about that lately—but as I lied to my mom’s face, the truth screamed out right in front of her.
I ran into the hallway, rushed up the stairs two at a time, and locked my door behind me when I’d reached the safety of my room. I leaned against the wooden panels, and surveyed my space. I paused when my eyes reached the small window, the image of the first time Lucian had come to me so clear that I slid to the floor, unable to hold myself up.
I tucked my knees into my chest. I sobbed, “Why does this hurt so much?” I held my hands over my mouth to quieten my wails while my hot tears scorched my face. “Why can’t I stop loving him?” My shoulders shook as I cried, stopping only for a second when I gasped for air.
A voice inside me called out, and I tuned in to the quiet whispers in my gut. Lucian had kept everything from me to keep me safe. Why the hell would he do that if I meant so little to him? Exhaling until I was deflated, I slouched down until I was almost lying on the floor. I didn’t know what I’d done, or if something else had happened, and that only made the pain so much worse. If he’d said he was done hiding, that our relationship wasn’t worth the stress, I would’ve understood to a point. I seriously doubted most people would go to the lengths he did to be with me, instead choosing convenience over feelings.
If the tables had been turned, and I was into something dangerous, I still would’ve chosen him. And with that thought, I silenced the screaming inside me that was saying I was wrong. I’d chosen Lucian, and after a while, he’d changed his mind, going with convenience after all.
I grabbed at my sleeves, pulling them over my hands to scrub my face dry. The friction of cloth over skin stung, but the redness across my cheeks would only serve as a reminder. I was going to get my shit together and forget him. It might not be right away, I sure as hell knew that, but I was determined not to let the actions of one self-centered asshole ruin me like Grace had been ruined by Murphy.
I didn’t want to see him hurt, and I didn’t know what I’d do if… I couldn’t even think about that happening, because when I saw the pain in Grace’s eyes, I knew, one hundred fucking percent, I would be the same. But, Lucian had made his choice, and he chose a different door. He’d made it abundantly clear that what he did and how he chose to live his life was none of my business. So, all I had left was to take care of me, and that’s just what I was going to do.
I just had to persuade my shattered heart to pull itself back together.
Chapter 15
Lucian
“Lucian, eat your lunch, you hav
en’t touch a thing,” my mom said, rubbing my shoulder. “I know you’re tired from your boxing training, but you have to eat up. Get your strength back.”
I stared down into the plate, my stomach growling at the food I needed, but I couldn’t touch it. I had to keep myself light for tonight, and eating a carb loaded meal would weigh me down. I’d grab a granola bar and can of Energy Plus before I headed out, which would be enough to see me through. Only Brady knew what I was doing because as my brother, he had that right. Naturally, he’d cursed and yelled, but understood why I had to do it.
“You’re supposed to be the lively one, son,” my dad said, laughing at his own joke. “Twenty-one and you look more tired than I am.”
Tired was only one of the things I’d been compared to. Depressed, miserable, volatile… I was that and then some, but it all ended tonight.
I slowly peeled my stare from the plate and up to him. I saw Brady in those eyes, but none of the empathy. “I’ve had to work out extra hard,” I replied, and took a sip of my beer. Our dad had wanted to buy us our first legal alcoholic drink and celebrate our birthday by taking us to a fancy restaurant in the city. He and Mom had been there a few times—mine and Brady’s first lunch with them as full adults. It was glitzy and full of sparkly shit, all modern with sharp edges and reflective surfaces. I felt so out of place in my suit and tie, and I just wanted to rip the fucking thing away from my neck. I hated places like these, the kind where you had to look a certain way just to get through the damn door. Because of that, I’d had to neaten up my appearance by taking a razor to my face.
