Chapter 24 – Liam
The gloves collided with air. My feet stepped out as I jabbed, bounced back as I raised my fists to defend. They were the only part of me, other than my face, that was bare. Sweat soaked the long sleeve shirt. It dripped down my thighs, even though the athletic pants were supposed to be breathable.
Boxing had been added to the list of life-altering things I couldn’t do like a normal man.
The gym might be empty, but I didn’t want to look down and see my ravaged body if I’d worn the skintight shorts I used to wear in the ring. A man should be able to grapple and spar without clothing. Bare chested. A warrior facing down an opponent. I was covered as tightly a nun on a Sunday.
A soft click broke my concentration.
Whipping my head around, I searched the dimly lit space.
“You’re a hard man to find, devil,” a suave voice called out.
Anger lashed through me. “Get out!”
Dominico strolled across the gym. He shook his head as he slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket. “We need to have a little chat, and since I don’t have your number….”
His voice trailed off.
I retreated to the darkest corner of the ring where the muted light from the sky window didn’t fall. I stopped. It took more strength to face him than to hit the heavy bag.
The mafia princeling let out a low whistle, kicking out of his shoes. “Guess I know now why you’re here so fucking early. Alone. With the lights off.”
I bristled. “Fuck off.”
“Nah.” Dominico tugged his crisp white dress shirt over his head. “Think I’ll stay a bit. I don’t have shorts though. Should I keep the pants on or strip to my briefs?”
“Fine,” I snarled. “I’ll kick your ass either way.”
The bastard chuckled. “That’s the spirit.”
Dominico kept his slacks on. Pulling an arm across his body, he stretched his shoulder as he climbed onto the raised platform. He ducked gracefully under the ropes and stretched the other side.
“Are you going to offer me gloves?” he asked with a jerk of his chin. “Or do you want to do it the old-fashioned way?”
Battling the urge to cover my scarred, ugly visage, I growled and sank my teeth into the tape. It tore from the glove. Once my left hand was free, I began to peel off the left. I didn’t have to look to see the red, angry skin as I shook my hand free.
Dominico bounced up and down. The pretty pixie was going to walk away with a bloody face when I was done with him.
“Ask me why I stopped by?” he dared, twisting and turning, inching closer.
I made two fists at my sides and waited for him to come within striking distance. This wasn’t going to be a proper, bare knuckle boxing match. I was going to unleash everything on him.
That idea was nice. I hadn’t properly beaten the shite out of someone since before the bomb.
“Why?” The word snapped in the air.
“I heard there will be a crowning ceremony.”
His words caught me off guard. The fecker used the opportunity to rush me.
I swerved, hands hanging loose at my side, and barely missed the blow he’d aimed right at my nose.
Taking the defensive, I backed away, still loose. Still ready to spring the moment I saw an opening. “How’d you hear that?”
It was an idea Da had put together after his double treatment yesterday. He was fading fast. Two weeks of the poisonous chemo—the lifesaving drug that was supposed to kill the disease, but only seemed to transform a fit, spry man into a shell—but his cancer wasn’t responding. It was aggressive.
Da was preparing for the worst, while hoping for the best.
I refused to consider that he was dying. This was a setback. That was all.
Dominico danced into my space. I bobbed left and struck with my right. The glancing blow bit into the soft flesh near his kidney.
“My grandfather was offered double to take care of you,” Dominico huffed.
And struck.
I let him hit me on the shoulder. It gave me the opening to rain hell on his smiling, polished ass. Punch after punch. I didn’t let up until he retreated.
Gasping and swiping at his face, the mafia prince pointed a finger at me. “You have an enemy.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” I charged.
While I didn’t use my legs, the kickboxing style I’d recently learned had an unorthodox method of upper body attacks.
When Dominico entered my ring, I made the rules.
Which was why I turned to the point style to attack.
I crowded his space. Weaved in when I saw an opening.
Kept my hands down as I capered about him.
He didn’t know when I would strike. I offered him feint after feint.
Only when he was on edge did I unleash the brutal jabs, uppercuts, and straightforward hits.
Caught against the ropes, Dominico held up his arms to block. “Damn, ragazzo! You’re every bit as crazy as the rumors say!”
That compliment made my lips twitch.
Not because this flawless, pretty boy noticed. But because it echoed the events of the other night. When I lit my wife’s bed on fire in a blind fit.
Just seeing the light in her room as I drove into the garage set me off.
Gabriella didn’t belong there. She belonged with me.
I took three healthy steps back. The space gave my opponent room to breathe. “The reason behind the meeting is private. No one knows that the boss will name me his heir.”
“And yet I found out.” Dominico rubbed his jaw. An ugly bruise already bloomed purple and blue against his deep olive skin. “You have a leak.”
“Well, it’s going to take more than a fight to kill me.” I feigned a step forward.
Dominico raised his fists. “We’re not going to kill you, idiota.”
“Oh?” I mocked.
“I told you—” Dominico threw a punch that reverberated through my rib cage “—that would be bad for business.”
I let him land another body shot, timing it perfectly to strike his nose.
Blood sprayed over the mat.
“What will your help cost me, Grimaldi?”
Blood gushed down his face, but Dominico smiled. The bastard. “My grandfather was convinced that it would be bad to get our hands dirty. He’s invested heavily in his image in his declining years. So, it was easy to sway him. You owe him nothing.”
And yet I waited for the other shoe to drop.
I advanced, stepping lightly forward. “And you?”
Dominico let me chase him. He was learning. I was too focused on his movements that I didn’t see the flying left hook until it was too late.
Pain lashed across my right side. The tender skin split. Hot, sticky liquid trickled down my face.
Dominico held up his hands in surrender. “Just remember I’m a good business deal someday.”
I swiped my knuckles across my face. More skin tore. “Writing a blank check for the future?”
The mafia prince stuck out his hand. I extended mine, covered in blood.
“Something like that.” Dominico shook, conceding the fight.
As he turned to leave the ring, I pressed the tips of my fingers against my broken face.
The pain was lightning, scorching and brutal.
I hadn’t had this much fun in an age. I used to love sparring.
The fire of a fight, the rush of victory.
They coursed through me, made me see things I hadn’t wanted to see.
Maybe…maybe it was time to stop hiding behind the mask and accept the new version. Dispensing with the tight clothing and the facial covering would be an added bonus. My burns would finally have a chance to fully heal.
But there was one drawback. A pretty pair of whiskey eyes. They would never look at me as a man and not a freak of nature. The mask made it easier to hide from the truth I didn’t want to face.
I plucked at the gold chain around my throat. Gabriella deserved a hell of a lot better.