One-two, one-two, double jab, come back with a two.
I had been home five days and by the third day of sitting alone in my apartment weighing my options, I decided I needed an outlet for my frustrations. I started going to the boxing gym on 86th Street and have been spending the majority of my days here. The men stare at me as if I’m some kind of God, the woman like I’m the star of their wet dreams. I ignore them all. I’m here for one purpose and one purpose only and that is to push the na?ve thoughts of a normal life out of my fucking head. If I was ten years younger I’d be fucking my way out of the hell I have created for myself but that’s not an option so I fight my way out instead. You would think three years with my hand would make me desperate for some pussy but I wouldn’t be sated with just any pussy, it had to be hers. Like I said, not an option.
Hook, cross, step to the right, double jab, cross.
“Jesus Christ, Bianci what the fuck did the bag do to you?” I heard a familiar voice say from behind me. I cringed at the sound of Jimmy Gold’s voice, my shoulders slumped, and I lost my stance. I knew all along that it would only be a matter of time before Victor sent one of the guys for me. The days of dreaming of a good life were about to be cut short as reality crept into my life. I suppose I should’ve been grateful for the five days I was allowed to believe I could escape Victor’s wrath.
I drop my hands to my side, taking deep breaths in and out, as I turn around to face Lucifer.
“What do you want?” I ground out, swiping my forearm across my brow to wipe away the sweat.
“It’s nice to see you too,” he said, smiling sarcastically as he pulled the toothpick he was chewing on out of his mouth. “You’re a hard man to track down, Bianci.”
“Obviously easy enough if you’re standing in front of me,” I responded, ripping back the Velcro on my gloves, pulling at the first with my teeth before removing its mate with my now ungloved hand. I unraveled the tape from my hands, feeling Jimmy’s intent stare. Once my hands were free, I lift my head, square back my shoulders, and return his stare.
“Let’s get this over with, yeah?” I bark.
Jimmy looked at me for a moment, probably deciding that there was no reason to beat around the bush or play games. He gave me a short nod and I returned the gesture, happy that we avoided all the bullshit. I brushed passed him, grabbing my gym bag and shoving my gloves inside before swinging it over my shoulder. The bell chimed over the door as I pushed it open vigorously. Jimmy followed behind and once we were outside, I saw the black Cadillac waiting for me.
Time to strike a deal with the devil.
The ride to my meeting with Vic was filled with complete silence. Jimmy attempted small talk in the beginning but when I shut him down with a stare; he shut the fuck up. As we pulled up to our destination, I cracked my knuckles and loosened my neck, all things I’d do if I were preparing to fuck someone up. I peered out the passenger window at La Bella Café, thinking it was ironic this was the place Vic chose to have this meeting. It was one of his oldest establishments. The place where he gave me my first orders and ultimately the stomping ground to where I became a made man in the mob. When I thought about it, I guess it was fitting that La Bella was where this shit between us would all go down.
I walked through the café, ignoring the stares my presence radiated, and walked straight to the back room. This was the room that saw all the action through the years, the room that saw thousands upon thousands change hands, the same room that saw a shitload of bloodshed.
Victor lifted his head the moment I stepped through the door, Jimmy closing the door quietly behind me. I remained completely still as I stared at him for a moment, wondering how in the world I had ever looked up to him.
He pushed back his chair and stood to his feet.
“It’s about time son,” he said, offering me his hand. I didn’t even acknowledge the hand he held out; instead, I kept my eyes trained on him. I wanted to punch him in the fucking face for calling me son. I was no one’s son, not the woman who bore me, nor the man who left me and I sure as hell wasn’t this piece of shit’s son.
He pulled back his hand and nodded towards the chair in front of his desk.
“I’ll stand,” I challenged, crossing my arms against my chest.
“Have it your way,” Vic responded, taking his seat again. “I didn’t expect you to make this easy.”
Fuck him.