41. Lincoln
FORTY-ONE
LINCOLN
T he stench of tobacco smacked me in the face as soon as I entered the Pit.
It was early afternoon, and the place was empty.
My footsteps echoed throughout the basement as I made my way over to the booths.
Lights beamed down from the ceiling, blanching the cold cement floor.
If the lights were on, someone had to be home.
And I was sure the person I was searching for would be there.
I treaded deeper into the open room. The caged ring stationed to my right, the blood-stained mat no different than how I remembered it the last time I was down there.
Images of Silva slipping the blade from his waistband flicked through my memory.
I didn’t want to admit it, but being down below campus affected me in more ways than one.
I had come through a different entrance this time, afraid Whitmore might have noticed if I went through The Underground.
That day, when he had confronted me following Winter Break, I had promised that I would stay away from my father and the hellhole he had dragged me down to.
It would help with the legal proceedings. Or so he said.
I wasn’t sure it would be enough.
As I turned the corner, Claudio was in his regular booth with two other men I recognized but didn’t care to learn their names. Poker chips and cards were scattered across the black tabletop, as were half-empty drinks and a conspicuous white powder in miniature pouches.
One of my sperm donor’s companions spotted me before he did. A greasy smile erupted onto his face. I could have sworn I saw dollar signs flash across his vision. “And what do we owe this honor?”
I bypassed his question, setting a hard stare at Claudio, who was busy dealing out another round of cards.
When he finally brought his attention to me, I noticed how glazed over his brown eyes were.
They were the same shade I saw every morning when I looked into the mirror.
A color so dark I was sure it reflected the void within his soul.
Years ago, I had burnt every single picture of my sperm donor that I could get my hands on—along with any belongings that my mother hadn’t hidden from me.
I hated having them in the house. I didn’t want to acknowledge his existence.
But what I hated more than anything else was his resemblance to me.
The slightly crooked nose, European features, and the same strong jaw.
It was an unwelcome reminder that we shared DNA.
I knew my mother had managed to save a few photos of when they first started dating—tokens of what life was like before he showed his true colors, before the addictions took over.
I didn’t regret my decision to destroy the materialistic reminders of him.
My only wish was that I could have done the same to my memories.
“Hello, son. ”
That one word was enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. I wanted to remove it from his vocabulary. Twist his tongue into knots so that he’d never be able to speak to me again. I kept my hands glued to my side as I flexed my fingers.
Claudio returned to his game as if my presence were nothing more than a nuisance to him. Of course it was. I wasn’t of any value to him if I wasn’t risking my life in the ring behind me.
I tilted my chin upwards. “I’m done fighting.”
That got his attention.
His thick fingers froze over the poker chips, the infuriating clacking coming to an abrupt halt. The loose grin he was wearing slipped off, and a steely stare took its place. It lasted half a second, and then the mask returned. It was concerning how unstable his emotions were.
“You have a fight scheduled for tomorrow night,” he reminded me.
“I won’t be there.”
Claudio chuckled as if I were telling him some sort of joke. He refocused on the chips in his hands. The two other men in the booth exchanged looks of unease, one even moving to loosen his tie.
“What do you mean, kid? It’s your rematch against Silva. It’s a sold-out show.”
I shrugged my shoulders, but even I was aware that I was treading on thin ice. “Guess you’re going to find a replacement.”
“I don’t think you’re getting it,” he said, tone softer than velvet. I recognized the way he was speaking. It was the same way he spoke to my mother before destroying all the dishware in the kitchen. “ You’re the reason they’re coming.”
“Not my problem. ”
When I received the text about my scheduled match, I knew I’d have to confront my sperm donor head-on.
Simply not showing up would cause more of an issue.
I could bet my life savings that he would show up at my door unannounced.
A small delusional part of me thought that confronting him might make him realize I wouldn’t bend to his will anymore.
Claudio’s face contorted with anger. The smile he was putting on for company was gone. “It will be if you don’t show up tonight.”
The threat lingered in the stale air.
I squared my shoulders. I wasn’t like my mother.
I’d never loved the monster sitting a few feet in front of me.
And I refused to back down and let him win just because he got red-faced.
That’s what got us here. I wasn’t sure anyone had knocked out a few of his teeth when he went around picking fights.
But I could and would be more than happy to be the first.
He analyzed me, cold eyes sweeping across my face. “Is this because of that bitch you’ve been keeping around?”
My jaw hardened, but I tried to keep my emotions in check. Claudio DeLuca was a parasite. If he suspected weakness, he would be sure to exploit it.
“This has nothing to do with her.”
Claudio bobbed his head as he pursed his lips. His glassy gaze was on the table again. “Then why the sudden change? Have you forgotten about our little deal?”
“No.”
I couldn’t tell him about Whitmore finding out about the Pit. That would do nothing but place him in the line of fire. So instead, I left it at that.
The silence stretched on. All that could be heard was clunking from the vents overhead.
“If you wanted me to come by the house sometime, son, all you had to do was ask,” Claudio seethed.
There it was. Another one of his loosely veiled threats.
“You won’t be doing that either.”
This time, when Claudio laughed, it was thunderous. He slammed his meaty hands down onto the table as he stood to his full height. “You’re feeling very brave tonight, kid.”
My stare was impassive, the same way I looked at my opponent when I entered the ring. It only seemed to anger him further. The veins on his forehead grew with the deepening shade of red across his face.
“I was never scared of you,” I said.
It was the truth. I wasn’t afraid of Claudio DeLuca and what he could do to me. My concern was about what he would do to my mother and Sadie. But I knew my presence in that rundown townhouse was enough to keep him at bay.
Yes, our agreement had been a large part of that early on.
However, he now knew what I was capable of.
He was down in the Pit every night I was in that ring to collect his money at the end of the match.
He witnessed me pummel other men within mere inches of their lives.
And he was well aware that I would do whatever I needed in order to protect my family.
If he knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t show up anywhere near my side of town.
I was done playing his games.
“You should be,” he promised as he trudged another step closer. The heavy boots he was wearing thudded against the concrete. “I don’t like it when people break their promises. ”
“I don’t like threats against the people I care about.”
That stupid fucking grin was back on his face. He held his arms out, palms open. “I can see you’re unhappy with the current conditions. Why don’t we cut another deal? Switch things up a little bit, maybe toss more money in the pot for you.”
The way he bounced from emotion to emotion used to give me whiplash. But I was much more aware now. It was just another tactic he used to manipulate others into a false sense of security.
“I’m not interested in working for you anymore.”
Claudio threw a hand over his chest as if my confession wounded him. “You don’t want to work for your old man? The person who brought you into this world?”
My body had a visceral reaction to his words. I wanted to puke my breakfast out all over the floor. “I’d rather eat glass.”
“That can be arranged.”
The last word wasn’t even out of his mouth before I was flanked. The men on either side of me pulled back, pinning my arms behind my back as my sperm donor crept forward. They had appeared out of nowhere.
“You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?” Claudio tsked.
“And you’re a fucking coward,” I bit back.
Something fierce flashed across his face. Then his fist connected with my stomach.
I doubled over, coughing from having the wind knocked out of me. I wheezed in a breath. “What? You can’t deal with family business on your own?”
“You’re not family,” Claudio spat, nose scrunched in disgust.
I sputtered a laugh. It was funny how things changed the moment he didn’t get his way.
I gauged the two men he had been playing poker with.
They were still in their seats, appearing much calmer now that Claudio had created some distance between them.
They probably also didn’t know how to deal with his mood swings.
“When did you get the bodyguards?” I asked, gesturing to one of the ugly mugs with my chin. “Who else have you pissed off besides me?”
“Mind your own fucking business.”
I shot him a knowing smile. You didn’t hang out with the devil without selling your soul.
The Pit was organized by some big names in New York.
The kind of people who could have you eradicated without a trace.
If Claudio had pissed any of them off, he was going to need more than a couple of juice heads to protect him.
Unless he thought he was going to need some protection from someone else.
Someone like me.
I spat on his black leather boot, the glob glistening under the harsh lights. Claudio’s jaw ticked as he stared at it. Then he brought his face closer to mine.
“You’re asking for it.”
“Then give it to me,” I said, bringing my head back just to send it flying into his nose.
A satisfying crunch reverberated throughout the basement as Claudio crumbled to the floor, his hand over the bottom half of his face. It did nothing to shield the stream of blood that dripped down his chin.
Using the distraction to my advantage, I kicked my foot back, knocking one of the goons off balance long enough to take control of my arm back. I clenched my free hand into a fist and sent it flying into the face of my sperm donor’s other bodyguard.
“You know,” I started while fixing my shirt, “I thought I’d come down here and give you a heads-up so that you didn’t go without a fighter tomorrow night, and this is how you repay me? That’s the last time I ever do you a favor.”
The bitter smile I sent Claudio was my way of rubbing salt in the wound.
He stood in front of me, wiping at the blood on his face with the back of his hand. I waited for either of his bodyguards to try to put a hand on me. They didn’t.
A wave of satisfaction wracked through my body. I was tempted to strike him again, but I restrained myself. I wouldn’t stoop to Claudio’s level. Not unless he made it absolutely necessary.
When I moved to leave, no one tried to stop me.
“Don’t you dare step out of that door,” he sneered. “I promise I’ll make sure you regret it if you do.”
I peered over my shoulder, leveling his threat with my own. “Then I guess I’ll see you around.”