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No… it couldn’t be. Not here. Not now.
For a while, she listened to the conversation. There were two men, gruff and angry-sounding. There were other noises, too. The sound of things being smashed. Bottles. Pieces of furniture. Each loud thump made her wince. She knew she should be running, but she felt liker her legs had been replaced by Jell-O.
Eventually, the door to her office swung open.
And in stepped the past.
Hank Groat.
He looked even meaner than before. There were new tattoos all over him, images she didn’t remember from before. Swastikas. Lightning bolts. And on his throat, a spider’s web reaching all the way up his face.
It felt like her heart was trying to escape her chest. Like it was trying to claw its way up her throat and fling itself from her mouth.
‘You know what?’ said a second figure emerging from behind Hank. ‘I think we should burn this fucking place down.’ The second figure was leaner, shorter, but no less imposing. He carried a sledgehammer.
‘No,’ said Hank. His voice sounded like it had been carved from stone. ‘We’re here to send a message.’ His eyes traced around the room, until, inevitably, they landed on the teddy bear. ‘What the fuck? Those fucking perverts.’
The lean man looked at Teddy. ‘Send a message, huh?’
He lifted the sledgehammer above his head.
CHAPTER 5
He didn’t want to be here. This was a mistake.
‘You boys ready?’ Marcus sounded excited.
Wolf didn’t want to let him down — it was nice of the old guy to take so much interest in him — but this was going to be hard work.
‘You knowI’mgood to go.’ Rainer was standing opposite him, stripped to the waist, hands encased in bulky sparring mitts. He even wore a mouth-guard, although Wolf felt as though there was no way he was gonna land a hit on Rainer. He was gonna struggle to even throw a single punch.
‘Yep,’ Wolf said, trying to sound convincing.
To him, the idea of replacing drink with violence didn’t seem like a good idea, but as they’d gotten ready at the gym, Marcus had explained it to him and he’d started to understand.
‘It’s not true violence,’ Marcus said. ‘The aim isn’t tohurtyour opponent. Well, not exactly. It’s to score points. To improve your technique. Plus, moving, swinging, and frankly — taking a hit or two — it gets the endorphins going. And let’s not forget, it’s consensual.’
‘Extremely consensual,’ Rainer snorted from the other side of the locker room. ‘I’ve been wanting to knock that smug grin off your face for coming up to a decade. Can’t believe I finally got you to agree.’
Rainer was an experienced boxer. He’d agreed that he’d be helping toteachWolf, rather than trying to knock him out.
They’d come to an old-fashioned boxing gym in Brooklyn. You could smell the history in this place — literally. The scent of sweat and rubber felt like it was ingrained into the fabric of the space. And it probably was. Marcus and Rainer sparred here regularly, and both of them had been trying to get Wolf to agree to join in for a while. But he’d never wanted to. He hated violence.
Not that he didn’t indulge in it from time to time. Normally when angry, always when drunk. He’d never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it, of course. The most recent incident had been in the Death Division’s bar — the Snake Pit. They’d been trying to steal a few of their rival MC’s cuts. Wolf had been wasted — he’d bad plenty of Dutch courage before they’d started the operation — and it hadn’t taken long for him to start looking for a fight. A fight is exactly what he’d got.
When the violence was happening, he’d reveled in it. The feeling of abandon, of giving in to some deep, primal, irresistible hunger for carnage. But the minute it had stopped, he’d felt this awful, hollow ache inside him.
He’d felt like his father — the man he hated more than anyone else. An animal.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen today. He was going to fight with control. He’d dodge Rainer’s punches, and maybe —maybe— throw one back to make it look like he was trying.
Then, when it was all over, he’d congratulate Rainer and say that this wasn’t for him.
‘Right, you two. Keep it clean, nothing below the belt.’
‘If I have to avoid punching him in the dick,’ Rainer said, ‘does that mean I’m not allowed to hit his head?’
Wolf laughed. ‘Fuck you, Rainer,’ he said with a grin on his face.
