Page 37

Chapter 37

Bones

I still felt like shit about my dad leaving me the way he had, even a few days later. But I was doing the only thing I knew for a fact he would have wanted, and I pushed forward regardless. I went through the motions of living, forcing myself to keep existing, fully in the knowledge that one day I would find a way to recover. I might not know much about life, but surviving dark times was something I was familiar with, and I’d make it through.

Of course, I had many regrets still floating through my mind. I wished I hadn’t left my dad at the hospital to go and fight, wasting precious time we could have had together. I wished I hadn’t let him down over and over again with the gambling and partying. I wish I could have said goodbye to him, rather than racing off to Nero in a mad, crazy rush. Eventually, I would have to come to terms with all of that. I was sure I would. I had to. It really was the only option I had left. I wanted to at least do one thing right by making him proud of me in the end. And I would have to hope he was around for long enough to know that I had tried.

And if not, maybe I could comfort myself by believing he watched over me from above.

The first step was making the call to Nero I had been putting off until I was in a better frame of mind.

“Hello?” Oh, God, his tone of voice was too friendly. It wouldn’t be long until that changed. “Bones, I’ve been meaning to call you today. I have the plan worked out.”

“Actually, about that,” I said. “I’m out. Lotto will be swinging by and giving you back the money you gave me later today.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Nero screamed, instantly losing his temper. “Do you know how much fucking money I have riding on this fight? Are you stupid? How the fucking hell did you manage to live this long being as stupid as you are?” Maybe I should have been scared at his fury, but I was just numb instead. What the hell could he do to me now? What could he take from me? I had nothing left. “Your father will die because of this. I fucking mean it!”

“My father is already dead, motherfucker,” I shouted. “So there’s really nothing that you can threaten me with.” I refused to tell him the truth, just in case he would hunt my father down in Mexico to kill him just to prove a point that he was not a man to be messed with.

“I can fucking kill you,” he said sinisterly, but I didn’t give a shit about that threat either. Let him fucking come at me. Let him try and kill me. “I can fuck you up for this. I can break every damn bone in your body, you piece of shit.”

“I’m out for good, Nero. Fuck off.”

I allowed the phone to fall from my hand and onto the seat below. I could hear him yelling and screaming at me, but it no longer bothered me. Fuck him.

I stumbled into the locker room with my mind all over the place, trying to get myself focused for training today. I allowed myself to imagine my dad on a lounge chair soaking up the sun, taking in the air of home. It gave me comfort to at least know he was happy now. It brought me peace, if nothing else. It suggested everything happened for a reason, because if I hadn’t been with Nero, I might have forced my dad to stay. I probably would have made him endure more treatments he really didn’t want. I might not like the way things had turned out, but that wasn’t up to me now. I could see that.

He’d finally done what he wanted, what he needed, and honestly I fully respected him for having the balls to do it.

“What are you doing here, bro?” a visibly confused Teo asked me, as he gazed up at me. I’m sure I looked a little messed up, but not enough to warrant that much of a reaction. “Didn’t you get the message?”

“Huh? What message?” What the fuck was I missing here? From the look on everyone’s faces in the gym, it was clearly something huge. Something that I should probably already know. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve… been suspended…” Teo said, giving me a curious look. “How the hell didn’t you know that?”

What the fuck?

A black storm clouded over my vision, and with fury in my heart, I stormed over to where Frankie was standing in the gym. How the fuck had I been suspended? I hadn’t actually done anything wrong. And didn’t I have enough going on in my life without this shit to add to it? How could Smiley’s think that it was a good idea to load this on top of me as well? I was sure Ari had informed Frankie of my personal issues, and I needed a little fucking breathing room.

“What’s this about me being suspended?” I snapped at Frankie. “Why did no one tell me?”

“You have been contacted by email about it,” Frankie replied in an overly calm tone of voice, one that only served to infuriate me further. “You have been suspended because I don’t feel confident having you as part of the gym anymore. You are currently being investigated to see if you’re still a good fit. We have someone filling in for your fight in Heathens Hollow.”

I knew what that meant. He was digging to get all his shit together, and then he’d make it official and kick me out of the gym completely. I was being edged out. I was not a fucking idiot, and he knew that. Judging by the smirk plastered across his face, he didn’t give a shit either.

“Why?” I had to ask, already knowing I was going to hate the answer.

“I think we both know the reason.” There was a threat in his tone now—one that Frankie really wanted me to hear. “You are an untrustworthy fighter. You threw the last Heathens Hollow fight you were at. We can’t have you up to your old tricks again, and I have my suspicions that you might be.”

The look that Frankie gave me suggested he knew much more than he was letting on. Did he have someone following me, or tracking me? Did Frankie know I’d been to see Nero again? Maybe if he’d heard about my dad being sick, he’d figured I needed to be investigated… and rightfully so, I suppose. But how did I tell him what was going on without basically admitting to the fact I had planned on getting back in bed with Nero? Surely by saying that, I’d be suspended anyway. Maybe fired immediately or even sued for breaking my contract with Smiley’s . Frankie had me backed into a corner, and he was very aware of that.

“But Heathens Hollow is the most vital fight,” I tried my best to argue logically. “If you don’t have me fight, we lose any shot at having me headline other fights like we’ve planned. Does Ari know about this?”

“Ari doesn’t need to know about every decision I make for this gym.”

“I think she’d be very interested in the fact that you pulling out the only chance you have of winning Heathens Hollow.”

“Look, Bones, I think it would be best for everyone if you stopped arguing and just got the fuck out of here,” he said. “I’m trying to stay calm and… professional for Ari’s sake. But what I really want to do is beat you to a bloody pulp.”

“Then why don’t you try, motherfucker.” The words shot out my mouth before I could even think them through.

I was still fired up from Nero and… yeah, I wasn’t quite thinking clearly, but a good brawl might be exactly what I needed to get this fury out of my soul.

“Apparently, the last ass-beating I gave you didn’t sink in,” Frankie said as he stormed toward me.

I readied myself for a round two. “I’ve been training, asshole.” I cracked my neck by moving my head side to side. “I’m down for a rematch.”

I had no idea why Frankie wanted to fight again. We had been getting along... as much as the two of us could. But this time I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him get the upper hand.

Frankie narrowed his eyes to slits as he closed the distance between us, each step calculated and heavy, an ominous drumbeat on the concrete floor. The battle lust glinted in his gaze, the raw, unmasked craving for dominance. It was the same look that had preceded our previous tussle—the one that left us both nursing bruises for weeks.

“You call that training?” he scoffed, flexing his fists. “Looks to me like you’ve been training to be my punching bag.”

I let out a laugh, baring my teeth in a feral grin that matched his own, aggressive posture. “Is this about fucking Ari? I thought we all had a deal.”

“No, fucker. This is about you meeting up with Nero. Or did you think that wouldn’t get back to me? You getting into shady shit again. And that puts Ari at risk. And for that, I’m going to make you pay.”

I would never put Ari at risk, but there was no telling Frankie that. Not when he looked at me the way he was.

Without warning, Frankie lunged forward, aiming a right hook at my jaw that promised pure destruction. But I was ready for him; I slipped under the swing with ease honed by countless hours spent shadowboxing my reflection and dodging imagined blows.

My counter was swift—a low hook to Frankie’s ribs, a reminder that I wasn’t the same pushover he remembered. The sound of my fist against his side was like the crack of a bat meeting a ball, the impact reverberating through the silence that had fallen around us.

Pain flared across his features, but it only seemed to make him angrier, more determined.

“I would never hurt Ari. Never.” I circled him warily, my own breathing measured and controlled despite the adrenaline surging through my veins. “I don’t answer to you,” I shot back. “Whatever I do with Nero is my business.”

“You saw what happened when we brought Ari to Detroit, you fucker,” Frankie said as he delivered a punch to my gut. “She deserves better than that, and Heathens Hollow was her shot at not having to be put in dangerous situations again.”

I wheezed to regain my breath. “Yeah? Well that’s on you by pulling me out of the fucking fight!”

He rushed me again, this time with a flurry of punches designed to overwhelm. But I’d been training for speed as well as power, and I absorbed what blows I couldn’t dodge, waiting for my moment to strike back.

Then it came—a brief falter in Frankie’s assault as he overextended on a left cross. Seizing the opportunity, I stepped forward and threw an uppercut straight into his exposed jaw. I had expected him to fall.

And that’s exactly what he did. What I did not expect was his eyes to roll back in his head and his body start to seize

Panic instantly replaced my triumph. This wasn’t just a knockout; Frankie was in trouble.

“Frankie!” I shouted, crouching beside him, flipping him onto his side to prevent him from choking if he vomited. I scanned the area desperately. This was supposed to be a simple brawl, not a life-threatening event. “Someone get help!” I yelled, but my voice seemed to echo in an empty space. “Frankie! Frankie!”