Page 28

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

BONES

T he referee threw up my hand. The crowd went wild.

Another fight. Another win.

And it still wasn’t enough.

Smiley’s was on a hot streak, but so was every other damn team in the top four. St. Luka’s won their last three matches 3-0 to solidify them as third. The first-place team was those pricks at Base One Gym, who’d bulldozed their way to the top.

In a close second was Neurosport, a team from San Diego who kept sliding down the rankings but still were a good handful of matches ahead of us.

Fourth place was our best—and only—bet.

Right now, it was Fitspiration, a gym from Sacramento with a powerhouse for a third. He was second in the individual rankings behind River. But they had a Pinstripe-sized problem of their own and exchanged spots with St. Luka’s a few times over this week.

We were three wins behind them with only two weeks to go.

Our window to make the top four was closing.

So was our window to tell Scotty Green to fuck off.

Ari had been stalling the best she could. Telling him she couldn’t find a buyer. Throwing out some of the product and saying River and I were taking it. We didn’t include Teo in the discussion—he had enough baby mama problems to deal with. He didn’t need a fake drug charge under his belt and fuck up his custody.

But Scotty was growing impatient. Just before this match, I saw him talking with a few other teams, Base One Gym included. Terrence was already a brick house, but somehow, he looked even beefier. Mitchell and Brock were stacked, too. Thank fuck our matches against them were over.

Unless we made the top four.

No, not unless— when .

’Cause I was determined to get us there, even if I had to fuck up my hand again to do it.

Ari and Frankie welcomed me to the side of the ring with huge hugs. My body ached from a full five-round fight, but Ari’s smile gave me energy. Gorgeous as ever. She looked even more lively since our fuckfest in the office. I was right there with her. Things were on the up.

The only problem?

The douchebag glaring at us from the other side of the ring.

I tried to ignore Scotty’s stare, but it pressed on me like a hot iron. Ari shook her head.

“Don’t bother. He’s been looking at me like that since he showed up.”

“I wish he’d stop showing up,” Frankie said. “At least this is our last Seattle match.”

“I have a feeling he’s going to show up to the rest of them, unfortunately. He’s bugging me a lot more lately.”

“Do you need more to deal with him?” I asked.

Ari shook her head. “I can handle this. Only two more weeks. He’s giving me plenty of evidence.”

“Still doesn’t feel like enough,” Frankie said.

“It will be, but if he asks, puff out your chest a little, will you? Make it seem real.” Ari laughed and smacked my chest. “But you don’t need help in that department.”

“Sure don’t. Frankie’s working me like a warden.”

“Get used to it. The Base One Gym guys are looking like goddamn fire trucks.”

“You don’t think…” Ari began before shaking her head. “Forget it. Hit the showers, Bones. And let’s go home and celebrate.”

I hurried to freshen up, a hop in my step that had been sorely missing the past few weeks. Scotty be damned, this was our moment. I wasn’t going to waste it.

Even though the match was over, excitement still buzzed in my veins the entire drive home. Lotto and I headed back to the house to change into something more suited for a night out.

But as soon as I stepped out of the car, my excitement vanished.

Sitting on the porch was another package.

This one longer, taller, and with black marker scribbled on the tops and sides.

FRAGILE

HANDLE WITH CARE

IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS INSIDE

I couldn’t move. Lotto squeezed my shoulder and helped me walk forward. The address was the same as the last one. Dad’s name was right there on top, but this one was different. I knew it before Lotto picked it up.

This wasn’t Dad getting ready to say goodbye.

This was Dad’s goodbye.

We took seats at the table and stared at the box for five long, draining minutes. I gripped the arms of the kitchen table chair so hard I couldn’t feel my fingers. Lotto’s eyes were red-rimmed and his lips so thinned, I couldn’t see them.

He cleared his throat, his words lined with tears.

“Do you want me to open it like last time?”

“No. Let’s open it together.” I reached out to take his hand. “Let’s do this together.”

Lotto nodded and grabbed a knife. I held my breath as he cut the tape and opened the flaps.

At the top was a thin manila envelope. Nestled beneath it was a golden vase with boxing gloves engraved on the lid. Lotto pulled it out of the box. Taped to the side was a folded letter. When I peeled it off, Dad’s name was engraved on the side of the urn.

The year he was born.

And the year he died.

I had to grab the side of the table to keep from falling over. Lotto set down the urn and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. My body shook as tears rushed down my cheeks.

“But I just talked to him three days ago.” I gasped for breath and clung to the table. “He said he was going to watch my match.”

“He is, Bones,” Lotto whispered. He held me tighter as he cried with me. “He always will be.”

I pulled Lotto into a hug. We held each other and rocked together. Grief was overwhelming, but Lotto was my anchor. His strong arms and tight hold kept me grounded. Him, and Ari, and Frankie, and River—Dad had left me in good hands. Loving hands.

But it still felt like a piece of me had been carved out and left to bleed on the table.

When my tears finally stopped, I stepped back to wipe my face. Lotto picked up the small envelope that was attached to the urn.

He held it out to me. “Do you want to open it?”

My throat felt like sandpaper. My fingers trembled. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to see Dad’s last words. But I had to. Just as Lotto said, I needed to let him die with dignity.

I needed to respect his last wish.

The letter was short and scrawled in shaky handwriting, but it was Dad’s, all right.

Half for my sons, half with my Louisa.

I will love you both forever.

I’m always with you.

Keep fighting.

And open the other damn package, ’cause I know you haven’t.

I laughed. Was I really that obvious?

Lotto set a hand on my shoulder. “Do you want me to grab it?”

“Yeah… yeah. I’ll open the envelope here.”

Lotto left the room, and I grabbed the thin envelope from the top.

His death certificate. Signed just a few hours after our last phone call. Natural causes.

Goddamnit, Dad. He had known he wasn’t going to see today’s match, but he told me he’d “try his best.” And then a few hours later, he was with Mom and watching down on me. On Lotto. On Smiley’s. On all of us.

Lotto padded back into the room with the first box in his hands. I set aside the gloves, grabbed the thick envelope, and pulled out a huge stack of papers.

My eyes widened. “It’s Dad’s will.”

“What?” Lotto leaned over me to look.

“He left me everything he had.” I scanned the papers. “I just need to contact the lawyer in Mexico to transfer it all to my name.”

“What did he leave you?”

I flipped the page. “His— What the fuck? This can’t be right.”

There were way too many numbers on the page to be right. How the fuck did Dad have so much damn money to his name? When he left the States, it was on a hope and a prayer. But now, I was staring at a hefty six-figure amount that would keep us afloat for a long time.

Lotto took the paper from my hands, his face scrunching in confusion. “What the fuck?”

“Is it a life insurance payout?”

“Those don’t pay out for months, if not years.”

“Then how the hell does Dad have enough to buy three Astin Martins and still have enough for a nest egg?”

“Maybe it’s in the letters?” He eyed the sealed letters on the table before shuffling the papers around. I didn’t think it was possible, but his face scrunched even more. “Bones, he didn’t just leave you money. He left his half of La Suprema.”

“What?”

I snatched back the bundle of papers to look. It was a written contract in both Spanish and English, entitling us to his shares in the Mexico City gym. It was dotted in black ink by both the owner and Dad, and translated and confirmed by Dad’s lawyer.

Apparently, I had become a business owner overnight.

“Did he set this whole thing up?” I whispered as I stared at La Suprema’s address.

This whole time, Dad had been thinking of us. Everything he did, even in death, was to keep us going and support us in any way he could. How the fuck was I ever supposed to repay him?

“Open the letters,” Lotto urged.

I grabbed the first and opened it, but as soon as I saw it was for Lotto, I handed it over. The second, addressed to me, had me tearing up from the first line.

My precious son,

If you’re reading this, I’m probably already gone. Or at least have a foot out the door. (Don’t worry, I shined my shoes to be ready for that damn reaper.)

Don’t be sad. I’m with your mother now, and we’ll always be watching over you. Death can’t stop this old man. And if it tries, I’ll give it a mean right hook. That one runs in the family, as I’m sure your opponents know.

My greatest pride in life was getting to be your father and watching you grow. Keep Lotto, Ari, and that other guy close. I’m leaving you in their care for good now.

Everything I have in my name belongs to you and Lotto. And before you get all huffy, let’s just say my Louisa brought me some good luck on those slots. Actually, she’d probably grab my ear and hit me with her slipper again. She hated when I gambled.

But hey, it worked out. I hit it big a few times. Big enough to buy into La Suprema and leave Ari’s gym with a little extra funding. Use it to kick ass in the Circuit for your old man, would ya? And keep an eye on those boys at La Suprema. They’ve got talent. Remind me a lot of you—kids born to be stars.

I love you, son.

Until we meet again.

Dad.

PS: The Vega family is officially banned from El Dinero Verde Casino just outside Mexico City so don’t try to enter. (They apparently don’t like when you hit two jackpots in a row.)

I re-read the letter over and over until it blurred with my tears. Then I laughed. And laughed and laughed until my lungs burned from breath. Of course, Dad would get himself banned from a casino. I could imagine him yelling at the owners and demanding extra payment for the hassle of being banned from the premises. That was the type of guy he always was.

And the guy I would spend the rest of my life working to make proud.

Lotto set his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. His eyes were rimmed with tears didn’t fall. I glanced at the letter in his hand.

“What did Dad say?”

“To keep watch over you and keep loving you. Same with Ari and Frankie.”

“And now River.”

“Right.” Lotto snorted. “He also told me to make you open the box at some point since he knew you couldn’t do it yourself.”

“Dad knew me ’til the end, huh?”

“And loved us both ’til his last breath.”

I stared at Dad’s will. “There’s enough to support ourselves in the Circuit if La Suprema is our sponsor. We don’t have to worry about Scotty Green anymore. But he knew that, didn’t he?” My laugh sounded weak and hollow. “We always knew everything, even if I didn’t say it.”

“He wants us to keep fighting, Bones. To keep winning.”

“And I’m going to.” I set my hand over Lotto’s. “I’m not ending this season without making the top four. Not anymore. We’re going to win this fucking thing. For Dad.”

“For Pops,” Lotto agreed. “The Circuit won’t know what hit them.”

“Call those stupid assholes in charge,” I said and squeezed his hand. “We’re going to need a new sponsor once we take Scotty Green down.”