I free my face of controversy before approaching a man I’ve been eyeing the past couple of weeks. His left hook is kryptonite, but he needs to water down his theatrics if he wants to make it out of my uncle’s ring in one piece.
“I think that’s everything.” I join together the official-looking contract my uncle had drafted to authentic his ruse on the hood of Samuel’s car before storing it into my soft-leather briefcase. “In good faith, the first three fight payments will be deposited into your bank account by tomorrow afternoon.” I don’t mention the fact his first deposit could be hisonlydeposit. “Details for your first match will be sent to this number later this week.” I hand him a one-in-a-million cell phone—an iPhone 10. “As per your contract, it is unadvisable to bring family or friends to your match. This is an invitation-only event, and tickets sold out months ago.”
Samuel smiles like he’s proud to be included in such an exclusive event.
It doubles my guilt.
“Do you have any questions?”Or a legally drafted will?
I shut down my snarky inner monologue when Samuel shakes his head. “Nope. You’ve pretty much covered everything.”
“Great. Then I guess I’ll see you around.”
He stops me from walking away by grabbing my wrist. His hold isn’t firm, but I’m not in the right mindset to recognize it as friendly. I yank out of his hold like he’s a convicted rapist before poking my finger into his chest. “Don’t ever touch me without permission.”
Samuel holds his hands out in front of himself, acting innocent. “All right, sista. You don’t need to tell me twice.” He does an edgy shuffle that shrinks his size to that of a child. “I just wanted to ask if you’d be at the fight?”
Dark tresses of the locks I’m endeavoring to grow back fall into my eyes when I shake my head. I already feel horrible sending these men to their possible deaths. I don’t need to witness the travesty firsthand.
Upon spotting my response, Samuel delves his tongue out to wet his top lip before saying, “Well, I guess I better do this now then.” His voice is somewhat sheepish as if he’s attempting to pull the wool over my eyes instead of the other way around. It dawns on me that I’m not far off the mark when he asks, “Did you want to grab a bite to eat sometime?”
“Oh… umm… I have a boyfriend,” I stammer out, truly shocked. Since I now understand what I’m recruiting these men for, I took flirting off my drafting credentials. It isn’t possible to schmooze a man you’re sentencing to misery. Guilt makes me half a woman, so I won’t mention what remorse does when I fail to see them at their gym the week following their first fight.
Samuel’s natural arrogance is showcased in the worst light when he replies, “Yeah, but he’s in lockup, so our hookup wouldn’t technically count.” He hits me with a frisky wink to ensure I can’t misunderstand what he classes as a ‘hookup.’ “Nothingcounts when your man is out of town.”
“Perhaps not to you, but it does to me.” While rolling my eyes, I twist on my feet and walk away from him. “Don’t be late to your fight. If you’re late, I’ll dock your pay.”
The guilt that’s been bombarding me the past forty minutes clears away when Samuel fires back, “I’ll let you keep it all for one round of naked Twister.”
His comment makes it seem as if my nights at the cabin with Maddox were years ago. I truly can’t remember the last time I smiled without it being forced. I smile every time I meet Maddox in the secret room at the back of Wallens Ridge, but it isn’t a genuine smile. I’m too busy worrying about the horrid things he’s experienced the previous weeks to be truly happy, so I plant a fake smile onto my face and make out that everything is fine.
I plaster the same smile onto my face when my uncle’s Audi pulls into the curb at the front of KC’s gym, and the back-passenger door pops open.
After shimmying away my nerves, I slip into the back seat like not the slightest bit of fear is encroaching me. My uncle feeds off fear, so I act as if I don’t know pain. “He signed on with the agreement that the first three fight payments would be deposited into his account by tomorrow afternoon.”
When I hand my uncle Samuel’s contract, my smile becomes authentic. His hands are so frail and old. They expose I’m not the only Petretti burning the candle at both ends the past couple of months.
“Why three payments? That exceeds the offers you made the other men you’ve recruited the past two and a half months.”
This question didn’t come from my uncle. It came from Ezra, who is sitting in the front passenger seat next to Mario. Ever since I confronted my uncle in his office twelve weeks ago, it’s rare to do business with him without Ezra tagging along. He seems to have more say in my family’s businesses than I do, and he doesn’t have a drop of Petretti blood in his veins.
I swish my tongue around my mouth to loosen up my words. “A fight promoter from Vegas was scheduled to come and see him this weekend. If I didn’t make my offer enticing, Samuel would have turned it down.”
“That wasn’t what I saw.” I angle my torso to my uncle, my interrupter. “He seemed willing to fight for free…under certain conditions.”
“Conditions I wasn’t willing to abide by.” My last two words come out with a quiver when my uncle lifts his hand to my face. Mercifully, my stammer is barely noticeable over Ezra’s warning growl for him to back off. Compliments to both Maddox and Ezra, my uncle’s hands haven’t made it to within an inch of my face the past several months. The knowledge would be more freeing if Maddox hadn’t spent the last five and a half months of that time behind bars.
I settle my unrequired nerves before finalizing my sentence. “Samuel’s command of the canvas is undeniable. I am confident he will last several months on the circuit, so if you’re worried you won’t get your money’s worth, don’t be. He will be a good earner.” I hate myself for my last sentence. I truly, deeply hate myself.
After flicking my hair off my face like that was his intention all along, my uncle says, “Very well. I will organize payment this afternoon.” He nods his head at Ezra, giving him the go-ahead. “Until then, I need another three fighters. Pickings are slim since the Walsh brothers stopped training.”
I act as if there isn’t an ounce of disdain to his voice. “I have another three appointments this afternoon. I will reach my quota this month.”
“Good.” He dismisses me from his car with a wave of his hand. I almost make it out without controversy, but five little words freeze both my heart and my feet. “Are you forgetting something, Andy?”
As horrid memories fill my head, I stray my eyes to the stream of traffic rolling past my uncle’s idling Audi. There’s no Prince Charming on a fat-wheeled motorbike I can beckon to save me. I’m alone, defenseless, and so very tired of the sick, neurotic games I’m continually forced to endure. My life has never been full of rainbows and sunshine, but I can’t remember a single time where it was this draining.
When I lean over my uncle’s side of the cab with knocking knees and tear-filled eyes, a soft-leather briefcase is shoved into my face.
