by Scott, Ada
Somehow, Ross stayed conscious for a few more seconds, but it wasn’t long before the person I’d known the longest was just a corpse in a chair next to me. Over the pounding in my ears I could hear the heavy breathing of the chain gang responsible for my friend’s death, and I started to form a strategy for what I’d do if I could just get my hands free.
“What is the matter, tough guy? What’s the matter, Killer?” asked Gavino.
I didn’t answer. He’d have a heart attack if he knew what was going through my mind right now, and that would be too easy for a cunt like him.
“Cat got your tongue? Or are you finally listening to your motherfucking instructions and you want to wait until the end of the presentation for your burning fucking questions? Ken? Turn on the TV and press play on that fuckin’ thing there, then give me the remote.”
After a hesitation, Ken circled around me. Out of reach, even if my hands hadn’t been secured I fuckin’ noticed.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him press a button on the TV and then pick up the remote, studying it for a second and then jabbing it in the direction of the DVD player. The screen flickered a couple different colors as Ken handed the remote to Gavino, and then I heard a voice that poured liquid nitrogen down my spine.
“A-Austin… please-”
“Only what’s on the script, bitch,” came Enrico’s voice.
With my jaw clamped shut so tight that I thought my teeth were going to shatter, I turned to face the TV and saw Skylar front and center, sitting in a chair just like the one I was in, with her hands also behind her back. In front of her was one of those stands that people put sheet music on, with some paper on it.
To the right of the screen, I could see part of some guy with a shotgun pointed right at Skylar’s head. Worst of all, I could see the terror on her face, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to focus on the writing in front of her.
If they hurt her…
“Austin, th-the Bertolini’s have me. Th-they have a new deal for y-you t-to c-c-”
The shotgun wavered a bit. “Speak up, you worthless cunt!”
Skylar cringed away from the deadly weapon only a foot from her head. “They h-have a new deal for you to c-consider. If you say no they’ll… they’ll kill me. If you t-talk to the police… they’ll kill me. If you can’t do what they say, they’ll k-kill m-me… Austin! Help m-”
“Shut the-”
Gavino paused playback as somebody else entered the frame from the left, knife in hand. Skylar’s eyes were wide with fright, frozen there to haunt me as Gavino sat back in his heavily-burdened chair.
“Austin, I didn’t know…” said Ken.
“What the fuck?” said Gavino. “Get your ass the fuck outta here. Fuckin’ apologizin’.”
Ken looked from Gavino, to me, and then left the room with his head hung low. A disgusted expression flickered across the face of the mafia boss for a moment, aimed in the general direction of the door.
“If you fucking hurt-”
“Shut the fuck up and listen to your orders. I hear you don’t wanna throw the fight tomorrow, so I got good news for you. Now you don’t have to throw the fight, I want you to win.”
My mind was whirling at a million miles a minute, trying to cope with the extremes of anger, desperation and fear that surpassed even my first ten years of life. What the fuck was he saying? After all this shit, they were going to let me fight the way I fucking wanted to?
“That’s right,” Gavino continued. “But here’s the thing, I wanna make it interesting. I want you to win in the first minute of the first round. If you don’t do that, then Renato is going to cut that bitch’s face off, and then blow her brains out all over the wall for your disrespect. Sound like fun? We’ll record the whole thing and make sure to get a bigger screen for you to watch it. Movie night, motherfucker.”
“How do I even know if she’s still alive now?” I asked, feeling my hate for this fat fuck rising up in my throat like poisonous black bile and dribbling out the corners of my mouth.
“You don’t. I could tell you she’s alive and well, here in this very house, but I ain’t fuckin’ wasting my time provin’ it to ya.” Gavino leaned forward again, looking me dead in the eye. “First minute. First round. You understand? Now let’s finish the presentation before you get back to the gym.”
Gavino pointed the remote at the screen and the video sprang back to life.
“-fuck up and stay still, bitch!”
The guy with the knife swatted the music stand out of the way and grabbed Skylar’s hair at the front of her head as he straddled her, bringing the knife down as she struggled. I couldn’t see what was happening, but when her screams went up sharply with pain I was driven out of my mind and started screaming too.
Every muscle strained until I thought they were going to tear. The handcuffs dug into my wrists until I felt trickles of blood, and on screen, I saw Skylar’s face appear under the guy’s arm for a few frames. It, too, was smeared with blood.
A white hot supernova blinded me as I threw every single fucking thing I had into my struggle. With a metallic twang, I heard and felt the bolts on the front-right leg of the chair give way. Rocking back and forth frantically, I felt the others getting loose.
I was going to tear these motherfuckers apart and eat them, I was going to fucking…
Suddenly, everything went black.
Chapter 24
Austin
When I regained my senses, I was being helped into Ross’ gym by some of the guys that trained there. Somehow I managed to deflect their questions and convince them that the gym was closed for the day without a fight breaking out or anybody calling the cops.
Once they were gone, I stumbled to the freezer to get a couple gel packs. Then I got myself to the grappling mats, which were about the softest flat surfaces in the building big enough for me to lie down on. The lumps on my head told me that I’d been pistol-whipped at least twice, and the biggest one was probably from the butt of one of those assault rifles.
When I thought of Skylar, those screams, I wanted to tear my chest open and rip my heart out so I wouldn’t have to feel it anymore. I’d been fucking and fighting my way through life for so long, I never had time to think about the possibility of something better being out there, or what it would feel like to lose it.
Well, now I knew. Skylar was it. She was mine and I swore silently to myself that, first and foremost, I’d save her if I could, and then I’d scorch the fucking Earth to cleanse it of every last Picolli or Bertolini.
Fucking with me was bad enough, but they made their last mistake bringing Skylar into it. I had to win this fight tomorrow, play humble, promise to fight for free, all that shit. Whatever it took to get her out of their clutches.
That was easier said than done, of course. Some people made the argument that Brenton Southgate was the greatest heavyweight fighter that ever lived. It was ten years since a then-inexperienced Southgate last lost, and even that was by split decision. Specifically not by KO or submission in the first fucking minute of the first round.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I couldn’t rely on my conditioning to last until the later rounds, where I had an advantage over the older fighter. That was one thing Ross and I had agreed on when it came to this fight at least.
Fuck. Ross was dead.
He was a bit of an asshole sometimes, but he was a coach, a friend, and the closest thing I ever had to a father figure. I’d pay them back for him too.
I shook my head and grimaced at the pain the movement brought. Holding the gel packs more firmly against my head, I forced down thoughts of Ross. There’d be a time for thinking about him, but everything I had left needed to be focused on Skylar.
What I needed was an explosive, brutal, knockout right out of the gate. That might have been easier if I hadn’t tipped my hand a little with that KO against Sanchez. Southgate would have seen it and taken some time out of his grappling training to dedicate to the s
triking side of things in response.
In my mind, I visualized scenario after scenario of the opening minute of my fight. Every step I could take, every counter-measure he could take, every way I could get him to expose his head for a knockout.
After a couple of hours, my mind started drifting to what I’d do after the fight, once I’d got her back. She might not want to see me, now that she knew a bit more about the real me, but if she was alive then at least I could have a chance to make her happy again.
Either way, I’d put her in my car and drive until I ran out of gas, then I’d steal somebody else’s car and drive in a different direction until that one ran out of gas. Then I’d put her on a bus to wherever I could, from wherever we were, and make my way back to New Ashby to burn the whole city to the ground if I had to.
One of the guys who came to the gym sometimes was ex-army. He once dropped the fact that he knew a guy still in the services who was dirty as fuck and not above supplying military-grade equipment in an unofficial capacity.
I’d get myself as much as I could afford, and put a mushroom cloud where that fucking mansion used to be. Of course, I’d make sure Gavino, his nephew and that piece of shit Renato Picolli weren’t in there when I did it. Oh no. I had some much more invasive plans for them.
First, I’d…
The room on the other side of my closed eyelids brightened up for a second as daylight flooded in from the door, then went dark again when I heard it slam shut on its spring. Some motherfucker had ignored the ‘closed’ sign.
Footsteps approached the mats, two sets of them. I didn’t bother to open my eyes.
“Gym’s closed, fuck off.”
“I’m not here for the gym.”
I turned my head and opened my eyes to see a big guy in a suit with some dainty little brunette chick standing next to him. He had the build of a pretty handy mafia soldier, maybe only a bit smaller than me, but his suit looked more expensive than the usual fare the low-level guys dressed themselves in.
What was this cunt doing here? Did Gavino send him to keep me in line? Make sure I was doing what I was told in the lead up to the fight? The smoldering embers of anger in my chest began to find fresh fuel.
“I don’t care what you’re here for. Fuck. Off.”
The guy looked from me, to the chick and back again. I could see the tats on his neck, and on his forearm and wrist. He had enough of them that I thought he must be some low-level guy who had a biggish payday, and blew his load on some ego-wardrobe.
What that woman was doing here I had no fucking idea. She was in the later stages of pregnancy too, by the look of things, so this was a fucking weird place for the Bertolinis to send her. Whatever, it didn’t matter.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
I shot to my feet and flung the gel packs, now barely below room temperature, off to the side. The woman took a half-step back, but the guy didn’t even flinch.
“The last guy who asked me that has to get his mommy to wipe his ass now. If you wanna fuckin’ join him, you’ve come to the right place, otherwise listen to me when I tell you this. Fuck. Off.”
If this dude didn’t leave soon, I was going to bury him on general principle. He looked unsure of himself for a second, as if this conversation had gone differently in his head. Big as he was he probably wasn’t used to any arguments. Well, I wasn’t like anybody else he ever met.
“Do you believe in fate?” he asked.
“Are you a fucking monk? Is this a motherfuckin’ mountaintop where you dish out your wisdom? You fucking cunt! Turn your ass around and walk out that door before I fuck you up in front of your bitch. You tell Gavino that Southgate’s going down. I’m doing my part and I’m coming for Skylar.”
The guy took a deep breath and sighed, a resigned expression crossing his face before he started taking off his jacket. The caged animal in me leapt for joy and fresh adrenaline started pumping through my veins.
Another big tough guy who needed to learn that being big wasn’t enough to try to fuck with me. A willing victim to beat the shit out of and let some of this pressure off. I fuckin’ welcomed it.
He handed his jacket to the woman, who looked at him with disbelief. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“He’s not going to listen until he’s tested me. I know the type, like the back of my own hand. There’s no respect except what you earn with your fist.”
A maniacal grin grew on my face and I flexed my hands, opening and closing my fists in preparation for a one-sided fight where most of it was spent with my opponent unconscious.
“Are you serious right now?” she said.
The guy held out his expensive watch to her, which she didn’t accept. Instead she looked back and forth between us with an expression that said “Men!” as clearly as any words could and threw up her hands.
“Austin. This is Jace Barlow… your brother. I’m Kendall Barlow. I’m your sister-in-law. This.” She patted her swollen belly. “Is your nephew.”
The monster-truck of my anger suddenly found itself in mid-air with no traction. I looked around, half expecting the host of some practical jokes TV show to step out of the shadows and point to all the hidden cameras.
“Fuck… off.”
The words came out on auto-pilot, weaker than before, the wheels of that monster-truck spinning as the engine redlined. What the fuck was going on here? I could fight a man, but how was I supposed to fight a mindfuck?
I took a few steps towards him and his eyes narrowed in concentration, muscles twitching in readiness for whatever I might do. The woman, Kendall if she wasn’t bullshitting, took a few steps backwards away from the two of us as I slowly closed the distance.
We were eye to eye, toe to toe, and he didn’t back down even an inch. He was exactly my height, probably would have been my size if he spent as much time in the gym as I did. He did look a little like a slightly older version of me.
What was I supposed to do? Fuck him up, or listen to this bullshit that I didn’t have time for?
“Is there somewhere we can sit down? Talk?” asked Kendall hopefully.
Chapter 25
Austin
I sat in Ross’ chair behind his desk, halfway dumbfounded by the story Jace laid out for me. It was fucking insanity, but since the only person I ever told I was bought and sold as a baby was Skylar, he just seemed to know too much to ignore.
If it was true, then I was rescued from the womb of my dead mother after she and my father were killed in a mob hit in front of Jace, back when he was six or so. After that, I was stolen from the hospital and nobody ever heard anything more about me. Until now.
They tracked down the guy who’d been spotted on hospital security footage abducting me, some Picolli associate. He’d served fifteen years for kidnapping and manslaughter after saying he’d left me in a dumpster somewhere.
Well, through unsaid methods that were more convincing than what the city employed on him, Jace managed to get him to admit that he had, in fact, sold me to a guy here in New Ashby. When Jace tracked down that guy, he got the name Aquila.
“So, there weren’t too many Aquilas in the phone book, it didn’t take long to work our way through them. As soon as your name came up, I fucking knew it. How many times had I seen you on TV already? Right in front of my fucking nose the whole time. We got a hold of one of the towels they used to clean up one of your cuts, got the DNA tested. Just got the results back and it’s as close to certain as these things get. You are my brother,” said Jace.
I looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was only four in the afternoon. Eight more hours left in the day, and if it kept on getting crazier at this same rate, then we were all going to be in straightjackets by ten. Me first.
“So what do you do? Looks like you jumped in with the Picollis. That right?”
“You really haven’t heard of me?”
“No. That a problem?”
“No. Well, officially, I won the lottery and grew a corporate
empire worth just over a billion at the last estimate.”
“And unofficially?”
“I dedicated my life to taking down the Picollis. I worked up through their ranks and then, when the opportunity came, I all but wiped them out in Port Magnus. I’ll never stop until they’re dust in the wind. The Picollis have always been close with the Bertolinis; that’s one reason their fucking human supply chain landed you here. Now they’ve come to some kind of agreement, so as far as I’m concerned the Bertolinis have to go too.”
Jace leaned forward, putting his elbow on Ross’ desk and scrutinizing me. Kendall jumped a little in her seat and then put her hand on her stomach, distracted by some kind of action in there before her husband continued.
“So, I knew ever since I saw you lose to Cannon-Fodder Coles that you were on the take. What I need to know is if you’re with me or them. Help me end them, Austin. There’s nobody I’d want more as my right hand man than my own brother. If you’re worried about money-”
I held up my hand and cut him off. “Forget the sales pitch. I’m in. They…” I gulped. “They’ve taken my wife. They’ve g-got Skylar because I fucked some of them up, and they’re blaming me for one of them dying. If I don’t win this fight tomorrow, first minute of the first round, they’re going to kill her.”
Kendall gasped and held her hand up to her mouth, while Jace’s expression only reflected an even greater focus.
“Fuck. Tomorrow night.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “What time, exactly, is your fight?”
I shrugged. “It’s not set in stone. It’s the main event, the last fight of the night, but how long it takes to get there depends on how long the preliminary fights and the undercard goes. I guess at about eight thirty.”
“Fuck.”
Jace’s brow furrowed, and I could see his eyes staring right through the desk, twitching every now and then as he worked through the logistics of this problem, in a similar way to how I visualized every scenario of my fights. Kendall watched him silently, as if she knew how he worked.
