31. Luca
THIRTY-ONE
LUCA
I stood in Santino’s backyard, smoking. I took a slow drag, the burn steadying my nerves. Telling my family I was gay felt like stepping off a cliff, but I couldn’t wait anymore.
I had to tell them.
My heart pounded. Word about us dating would spread. What if they didn’t want anything to do with me anymore?
The door behind me opened, and Santino stepped out. “You’re smoking again?”
“Just needed a break.”
He leaned against the railing beside me, his jaw tight.
Tell him now .
I blew out a stream of smoke, trying to find the words. They stuck in my throat, fear settling deeper in my stomach.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“You hear about that body they found in Providence?”
I frowned. “No.”
Santino took a long breath. “Cops found a body hidden under the floorboards in a restaurant basement. Piroshky. It’s all over the news this morning.”
The cold in my bones deepened, the name alone enough to make my pulse spike. A heaviness pressed down on me.
“Apparently the guy had been missing for years. He was a Bratva member. Some kind of internal feud.”
“Did they release a name?”
“Yuri Petrova. Did you know him?”
The world tilted on its axis, the air sucked out of my lungs. My vision narrowed, black spots dancing at the edges. Yuri. His name echoed in my mind, bringing with it a tidal wave of memories—his easy smile, the way he used to ruffle my hair, his laugh when I’d cracked a stupid joke. And then the way he’d looked before his death.
My chest tightened as though it was being crushed.
Santino’s stare bored into me. “You alright?”
I nodded, my vision blurring. My hands were shaking, my knees weak. I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get out of here.
“I just… need a minute.”
He nodded. “Alright. I’ll be inside.”
“Okay.”
He squeezed my shoulder before stepping back inside, leaving me alone with the crushing weight of the past.
I pressed a hand to my chest, forcing myself to breathe, but the tightness wouldn’t let up. All I could see was Yuri. I pressed my hands against my eyes, trying to block out the guilt, but his face flashed through the darkness. I needed to do something else to drown out the pain.
Dominic.
He’d know what to say. He’d tell me it wasn’t my fault, that I was worth saving. He saw the good in me, but I couldn’t stand the thought of him realizing how much of it wasn’t there.
I couldn’t tell him about this.
I needed to do something else to make this go away.
The fighting ring.
I’d go there. I had to feel the sting of fists against my skin. I needed to hurt. Shaking, I pushed myself to my feet. I swiped at my eyes, pulling myself together. I couldn’t let them see me like this.
I slipped through the backyard door and dashed to the street. I got into my car, driving away. City lights flashed by, the glow of street lamps blending with the darkness as I sped through empty streets.
I pulled up to the warehouse, an old building tucked away from the main road, and stepped out of the car. A heavy weight settled on my chest as I approached the door. I wasn’t here to fight back. I was here to hurt .
To let them beat me until everything was silent.
Until there was nothing left.
I reached the door. I took a deep breath, then pushed the door open, stepping into the smoke-filled room. Tonight, I wouldn’t fight back. I’d let them break me if that’s what it took.
And maybe then, I could forget.
I stepped into the ring, my fists clenched.
“Up next, we’ve got Luca!” The commentator’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Look who he’s up against tonight—Ethan ‘The Hammer’ Cole! This should be interesting!”
The crowd roared louder, people pressing closer to the ring. I didn’t care who my opponent was. All of it was a background to the chaos inside my head.
Ethan, already in the ring, gave me a crooked grin. He cracked his knuckles, his broad frame dwarfing mine. He was ready to tear me apart, and I welcomed it.
The bell rang, and Ethan came at me. I barely raised my guard before the first punch connected with my jaw, snapping my head back.
The crowd erupted.
Another punch followed—this time to my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. Pain exploded across my chest, and I stumbled back. Ethan wasn’t holding back, and I didn’t want him to.
I didn’t fight back. I took a jab to my temple, my vision blurring. The pain forced out the guilt.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He landed another punch, this one straight to my barely healed stab wound. I doubled over and wheezed.
He drove his knee into my stomach. Pain shot through me, white-hot and blinding, and I dropped to my knees.
The crowd went nuts.
I pushed myself to my feet, my vision blurred. Ethan’s grin widened, and he swung at me again.
I ducked. I couldn’t just take it. I needed to piss him off. My fist shot out, a cheap shot that caught Ethan in the ribs. His grin vanished.
I dodged the first punch, but the second caught me on the side of the head, sending me sprawling. The mat was hard beneath me, my cheek pressing into the sweat-slicked surface.
I pushed myself up again, my head spinning.
Ethan didn’t waste any time. A hit smashed into my jaw, another struck my ribs, each one sending shockwaves of pain through me. My knees buckled.
I let him hit me again, his fist slamming into my face. My head snapped back. Blood filled my mouth, and I stumbled, my legs giving out.
I lay there, my body aching. The vibrations of the crowd stomping feet shook the floor. I didn’t move. The world went dark as I let my eyes close.
Let it end. I couldn’t fight it anymore.