Never Truth Amazon

by Ramsower, Jill

  I wasn’t crazy about the concept of a next time, but if I had to fight again, training so I didn’t get my face bashed in sounded good. As soon as I was changed, one of Sal’s goons began to weave a long white wrap around my wrists, knuckles, and hands.

  “Keep your thumbs here,” the man said, placing my thumb outside of my fisted hand. “Otherwise, you’ll break ’em when you hit. Make sure you keep your guard up and stay away from the ropes. The guys up front get carried away sometimes and play dirty.”

  Great, so I was fighting an unknown opponent and an angry mob.

  Sal ushered the guy out of the way and took his place in front of me. His face hardened so severely that I wondered if he had a split personality. The Sal I’d been talking to for the past hour was not the same man who stood before me. “The guy you will be fighting against is a fuckin’ rat,” he growled menacingly. “He spoke with the cops, and a lesson needs to be made.” His gray eyes bore into me, squeezing my lungs with their ferocity.

  “Are you … telling me to … to kill him?” I choked out.

  “Accidents sometimes happen in these matches,” he replied without an ounce of emotion.

  “I don’t think I can do it. I can’t just kill someone.” Panic began to bubble up inside me, threatening to seize control of my thoughts and actions.

  Sal’s eyes slid over to where my father stood helplessly watching our exchange. In an instant, one goon grabbed my father’s arms and yanked them behind him while the other pounded his meaty fist into my father’s face.

  “Stop! Please, stop!” I cried out, now utterly terrified.

  Sal glanced back at me and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think you get it, kid. I’m not fuckin’ around here.”

  “I get it. I get what you’re telling me, but I just don’t know if I can do it. I’m just a kid.” My words flew from my lips in a single breath—a pointless plea for mercy.

  “Then you better dig deep because it’s time to grow up. Fast.” He glanced back at my father just as one of the men, then took my father’s arm and broke it in half over his knee. The sickening crunch brought vomit into my throat.

  My father wailed a blood-curdling cry, his lower arm flopping unnaturally to the side.

  “What the fuck?” I hissed, spittle shooting from my mouth, and tears pooling in my eyes. “Why are you doing this? If these guys are so tough, why not just have them fight?” It may not have been smart to question him, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly—shock and horror had taken control.

  Sal stepped closer, pressing his finger into my chest. “Because I want you. Now get a fucking grip on yourself before you go out there. This is happening. You may not have expected it, and you may not like it, but none of that matters. Your father’s life depends on your actions tonight. Either you pull your head outta your ass and fight like a man or kiss your father goodbye. The choice is yours.”

  I’d never known evil before in my life, but I had no doubt the man standing before me was the devil himself. He glanced at his men and flicked his head toward the door before walking us back into the main room. One man helped my father through the door, and the other acted as my escort.

  The second I appeared in shorts and wrapped hands, the crowd whooped and hollered, ready for blood. The noise was deafening, but I hardly noticed it. I had withdrawn inside my head, watching the scene before me like a movie in my own personal theater. One of the spectators spit at me, and I didn’t even flinch.

  I was going to have to use my fists to beat a man to death.

  The only way I could manage the feat was to go to a place where I was no longer myself. To regress within myself and treat the entire experience like it was happening to someone else.

  I climbed into the ring, noting a much smaller man twitching in the opposite corner. He reminded me of a dog I found when I was little. I convinced my mom to let us keep him, so she got a leash on him and we took him to the vet. The thing was so terrified, his tail was tucked all the way beneath him, and he could hardly stand he trembled so bad. The minute the vet touched him, he had pissed himself. My dad had been furious when he got home. The next day, the dog was gone.

  I shook my head, doing everything I could to wash the memory from my brain. Nothing about that moment in time was going to help me here. My father was a dick, but I couldn’t let him die. I didn’t know the other man, so I would do my best to imagine him as a child molester or something as equally heinous.

  Someone grabbed my hands and squeezed tiny MMA style gloves on them, rather than standard boxing gloves. I registered the difference but couldn’t even summon surprise. Fear, horror, worry, frustration, even disbelief were suspiciously absent. I had somehow severed myself from all emotion, my eyes tracking to where Sal’s man stood against a back wall with my father. I vaguely noticed my hand being lifted as the announcer made his introductions, then a mouthpiece was inserted between my lips. The one thing that stood out loud and clear in my mind was the ringing bell that signaled the beginning of the fight.

  Tearing my eyes from my father, I turned to face my opponent just as he flew at me, fist hammering me in the face. I stumbled backward, the ref coming between us to allow me time to recover. Men screamed and waved their hands all around us, but they might as well have been images on colorless wallpaper. My hazy state of mental self-preservation slowly morphed into physical self-preservation. It was something altogether more sinister. More aggressive. More deadly.

  I hadn’t known it was in me, but when fists started flying, something primal emerged.

  The stinging pain in my jaw was a wake-up call, but his uppercut to my gut was what flipped my switch. Lowering my stance, I brought my fists up to guard myself and began to study my opponent as he bounced on his toes. The frightened mutt had gone feral when faced with possible death. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the only one who could transform when properly provoked.

  This time, when his fist flew out, I evaded and followed with a hard left cross that got him solid across the jaw. I’d never hit anyone before. The feeling was odd but also surprisingly cathartic. I realized I could take all that emotion I’d tucked deep down inside me and release it onto this man who wanted to hurt me.

  It took me a while to get the feel of it, so for five rounds we pounded each other until we were both exhausted. Eventually, the adrenaline began to fade, and the crowd noise filtered back into my consciousness. I glanced to where my father stood to find an angry Sal holding a gun to my father’s head. My dad wept openly.

  No one else saw.

  No one else cared.

  But Sal’s message was clear. End it, now.

  I didn’t want to carry the guilt of my father’s death. By the end of the night, someone was going to die, and I vowed it would not be me or my father.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I turned just in time to block a sucker punch. In response, I rained down a frenzy of blows, catching the man totally off guard. I channeled every ounce of my fury and frustration, pummeling the man into the floor of the ring until he was unrecognizable. Even once he no longer moved, I continued my assault, hoping to put an end to the madness of my sixteenth birthday.

  At that moment, I didn’t experience a coming of age.

  I unleashed a demon from within me that I had not known I possessed.

  Eventually, someone dragged me from the man’s corpse, and my arm was lifted victoriously into the air. Through my one good eye, I took in the cheering crowd and spotted my father. He was smiling through his tears, his face glowing with pride.

  I did this thing for him, but I was disgusted.

  I never wanted to see him again because I knew there was no going back.

  He did this to me—he put me in this situation.

  I had saved his life and damned my own.

  ***

  I didn’t sleep at all that night.

  I lay in bed, staring at my ceiling, a captive to my thoughts. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to fall into my dreams and pretend the day before had nev
er happened, but that wasn’t to be. I attempted to process what I’d done and what it meant for my life moving forward. I was terrified about going to prison or being killed. I was furious with my father, and even my mom for keeping him around. I was worried about what would be asked of me in the future. But the thing that bothered me the most was the impact on my relationship with Sofia.

  How could I possibly bring this shit to her doorstep? I couldn’t taint her life with the cloud of evil that now trailed behind me. The boy inside me was eager to suggest we run away together, but that would just condemn her to an equally miserable life. We were kids—she was only fifteen. With no education or resources, we’d be on the streets. It wasn’t an option.

  So, what did that mean?

  An entire night of examining the facts, and it was clear there was only one option for me. I had to let her go. Not just let her go—she’d never simply let me walk away. I had to push her away so she’d never want me back. Life without her would be soul-crushing. Just the thought of hurting her so ruthlessly brought me to tears. I sobbed silently into my pillow, allowing my innocence and heartbreak to drain from me, one tear at a time.

  By the time I forced myself from my bed, I felt like hell, but it was no more than I deserved. I showered the crusted blood from my skin, standing under the scalding water until it ran cold. There was no way I could show up at school looking like I did, so I didn’t even bother.

  When I went downstairs, my father sat at the kitchen table, his one arm in a sling—apparently, he’d been taken to the hospital after the fight. I hadn’t cared where the fuck he’d gone, so long as I didn’t have to look at him.

  He sat working on his spreadsheets for the horse races. Each week, he would research and do numbers, conniving and scheming how to hit it big at the races. Most weeks, he came back emptyhanded and dejected. I didn’t know what this turn of events meant for my life long-term, but I’d be damned if it meant I’d turn out like my father.

  I went straight for the fridge, intending to ignore his presence, but he wasn’t going to allow me that one decency.

  “We have a meeting tonight. There are some things you should know before we go.”

  Without glancing his direction, I pulled out the milk and began to chug straight from the carton.

  “You have to understand what it is to be a part of the Lucciano family. There are rules you have to follow. The most important one is Omertá—the oath you’ll take tonight.”

  I had to resist flinging the milk carton against the wall. I knew my ties with Sal weren’t over, but it sounded like I was being sworn in, and I had hoped to avoid that. Fucking naïve. My stomach churned, making me regret how much milk I’d downed.

  “Omertá is about silence and loyalty. There is no leeway. If you break your oath, it means certain death. You will never, ever speak to anyone about family business—you understand?”

  “Do you hear yourself? How could you willingly drag me into this?” I spat at him, disgusted.

  “You saw those men. I had no choice,” he bit back defensively.

  “There’s always a choice, Dad. You could have stayed out of that shit from the beginning or owned up to your punishment rather than making your son take it for you.”

  He stood, his face growing red. “This is your ma’s fault for insisting you go to that pussy school because it’s put ideas in your head about how cushy and perfect life could be. Maybe for the top one percent, but for the rest of us, life ain’t so pretty. It’s time you figured that out. Being a part of the Luccianos is the one shot you got at making somethin’ of yourself.”

  I was a straight A student, an accomplished pianist, and a starter on the varsity basketball team, and my father thought so little of me that he assumed the mafia was my only hope. “Fuck you.” I walked away without another glance.

  “Meetup is at eight tonight, you ungrateful shit.”

  ***

  I managed a few hours of sleep before the meeting. It was a small miracle because I was increasingly nervous with each passing minute about what would transpire. My father drove us to a small warehouse building that appeared to be used as a distribution center. Inside, a dozen or so men had gathered and conversed casually—some sitting in folding chairs and others leaning against towering boxes.

  “Marty, glad you could make it!” welcomed one of the men along with a chorus of other subdued greetings.

  “Hey, fellas. This is my son, Nico.” He gestured to me with a beaming smile that made me want to break his teeth. Instead, I attempted to be polite as he ran through introductions of names and information I’d never remember. It was important to play my part. I had no other options.

  Eventually, Sal showed up and quickly got our meeting underway. “We have a new man to bring into the fold tonight; a man I’d proudly call family. The Lucciano outfit is the finest, most honorable outfit in this city. I knew the moment I laid eyes on this young man months ago that he was meant to be one of us.” His eyes gleamed at the surprise that registered on my face.

  Months ago? How long had they been considering this little exchange of debts? Or had that merely been an excuse to drag me in? My thoughts were dashed away when the gleam of a knife caught my eye, and adrenaline shot tiny flames through my veins.

  “Our family is steeped in tradition, and one of the most important is the oath each of us takes.” He pulled out a photo from his breast pocket, holding it up for all to see. “I have here the image of Saint Alphonsus, patron saint of confessions. Nico, come here and hold out your hand.”

  I stepped forward, eyeing him warily. The room was unnaturally silent, as if even the resident rats didn’t dare interrupt this man. Using the blade to nick my palm, he drew a small amount of blood, then squeezed it onto the photo.

  “Nico Conti, you have drawn blood for this family, and now your blood has been drawn by the family as we take you in as one of our own. As a Lucciano, you will hold the outfit above all else, surrendering your life and the lives of your loved ones should you endanger the outfit in any way. Do you understand and freely give your loyalty to the family?”

  This was it.

  There was no going back if I did this.

  I could feel the oppressive weight of each man’s stare bearing down on me. I had no options. “I do.” Two simple words, often the two words spoken on the happiest day of people’s lives, but to me, they were a lifetime sentence to hell.

  Sal’s lips pulled back into a wide grin. He set down the knife and pulled out a lighter, holding the flame to the corner of the photo. “This greedy flame symbolizes the annihilation of all traitors who seek to harm our organization, from outside, or within. When someone takes from the Luccianos, we will take from them tenfold without mercy or regret.” His soulless eyes bore into me as he allowed the photo to drop from his fingers and burn into ash on the concrete floor.

  The other men cheered and clapped, seemingly unaware of the silent conversation passing between their leader and the newest member. I was quickly swept up in hugs and congratulations, forcing me to smile and play the part of a happy recruit. One of the men informed me that I would start working with him each day to train for my fights. They only laughed when I asked about school, informing me that it was no longer necessary and patting me on the back as if they had told me I’d won the lottery.

  When things settled, I excused myself to the bathroom—a tiny, single-toilet room in the far corner of the building. The moment I locked the door, I swung toward the toilet and vomited up the contents of my stomach. Over and over, my gut heaved until only bile could be forced out.

  The fight, forcing me into the mafia, denying me the right to finish school—it was all too much.

  But there was a room full of grown men out there expecting me to act more than my sixteen years, so I rinsed my mouth in the filthy pedestal sink and took several deep breaths. I needed to pull myself together and go back out there.

  I had been in too much of a hurry to turn on the light, so when I glanced to
my side at the small window, I could see easily into the darkness outside. There, beneath a streetlamp in the rocky parking lot, was Sal, shaking hands with Enzo Genovese.

  An icy chill engulfed my body.

  Who exactly was he in all of this? I detected a clear undertone of superiority coming from Enzo. If I had to bet, I would have said that Enzo outranked Sal. If Sal was the underboss, that could only mean that Enzo Genovese was the boss of the Lucciano crime family.

  Holy shit.

  Did Sofia know about her father? No, I couldn’t imagine she did. We told each other everything. There’s no way she would have left that out after all these years. I wasn’t sure how he’d done it, but Enzo had kept his children in the dark.

  For a moment, I wondered if that meant there was hope for us. If he’d kept the two lives separate, maybe I could too. Then images of the man I’d beaten surfaced in my mind and dashed away that hope. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put her in that kind of danger. I couldn’t sit across the kitchen table from her day after day and lie to her face. I wasn’t allowed to tell her the truth, nor did I want to.

  The evening had only solidified in my mind the conclusion I’d come to the night before.

  I had to walk away.

  Chapter 15

  Sofia

  Now

  I’d told myself for years that no excuse was valid enough to justify what Nico had done to me. No matter what he had been facing or whatever had happened, there had been a better way to handle the situation. After hearing him finally fill in all the blanks from that night seven years before, I began to doubt that conviction.

  My gentle giant—I couldn’t fathom what it took for him to kill a man with his bare fists. He was the boy who had been sensitive enough to spend day after day drawing a traumatized girl out of her shell. He was the boy who texted me about new piano pieces he had mastered. He was the boy who had given me a pendant of the Eiffel Tower with the promise of seeing the world.