I blinked away the sweat that dripped into my eye as I mercilessly pounded the leather on the heavy bag seeking the clarity I always found when my mind was racing. After the fire Jack lost his mind, like the way Vic lost his when Val died. Both men consumed by the guilt that came from not being able to protect their brothers. It didn’t matter that Val wasn’t Vic’s blood brother or that Jack hadn’t been real close with Danny, they both felt the loss all the same. I was torn between my position in Vic’s organization and my promise to Jack that I would find out who killed his brother.
After I brought Jack back to his compound that night of the fire, I met up with Victor and told him the Fed would no longer be a problem. I met him at the building he had just leased and planned to turn into New York’s hottest nightclub. He was with Jimmy and a few associates’ playing cards, their laughter echoed off the bare walls and my presence was ignored until I cleared my throat. Victor and I stepped off the side much to Jimmy’s dismay. I was vague with Victor telling him the Fed’s house went up in flames. Leaving out the fact that he was Jack’s brother or that Jack believed Victor was responsible for the fire to begin with. Victor didn’t like that I hadn’t seen Danny’s body with my own eyes. He pressed on, how I could be sure that Danny was dead along with the investigation. I assured him he was in fact dead and that I saw a family member I.D. his body.
For lack of better words, I was playing with fire by allowing Victor to think Jack and the MC were responsible for the house fire. If Victor was the one behind it then he knew that I was staring him in the eye lying through my teeth.
I gave the bag one last jab watching as it swung from the chain before taking a step back and taking a deep breath. I cracked my neck from side to side and pulled off one glove with my teeth before pulling the other off with my freed hand. I walked into the locker room, unwrapped my hands before throwing my shit into my gym bag, and grabbed my sweatshirt. I pulled it over my head, pushing my arms through the sleeves and slid the hood over my head, tugging the drawstrings tightly. I slung my bag over my shoulder and slipped my phone from the pocket of my sweatshirt noticing the alert of a text message. I swiped my finger across the screen and viewed the message from Jack.
Forensic report is back. Call me
I bit the inside of my cheek, as I stared at the phone not sure, why I didn’t want to know the results. A part of me wanted the results to prove Victor was responsible so I felt less guilty that I wasn’t being honest with him. The other part of me wanted to know he had a hand in it and that he wasn’t just out to hurt me but anyone who stood in his way.
I headed out of the locker room, breezing passed the people who looked at me as if I was some boxing phenomenon. I went straight out the front door of the gym, the blast of cold air felt good against my sweaty body. There was a man dressed as Santa Claus ringing a bell looking for donations to the Salvation Army reminding me it was Christmas Eve. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a hundred dollar bill, and dropped it into the red bucket.
“Pretty generous of you,” I heard the familiar voice say behind the white beard. I squinted as I peered at him until he pulled down the beard and showed his identity.
“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me right?” I said, as I watched Jack reposition his disguise.
“Clever right?” He said, as he glanced around shaking his bell.
“What’s this all about?” I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“Did you get my text message?”
“Yeah, I was going to head over to the compound to talk things through with you.”
“See Santa saved you a trip? Good ‘Ole Saint Nick,” he said as a passerby dropped loose change into his bucket. “God Bless You.”
I raised an eyebrow thinking this would almost be comical if it wasn’t such a desperate attempt to keep Victor in the dark about our alliance.
“Report declares the fire accidental, states the cause of the fire was a faulty attic fan.”
I blew out a sigh of relief. “So Victor wasn’t responsible.”
“Fuck that, Bianci. You aren’t that much of an ignorant son of a bitch are you? My brother’s house goes up like a fucking firecracker, the same day you’re sent to watch me make him go away. No, I’m not buying it and I thought better of you than to believe this bullshit too.”
“So you’re saying the forensic report is wrong?” I asked accusingly as I crossed my arms against my chest.
“I’m saying it easily could’ve been tampered with Anthony,” he replied, glancing across the street suspiciously before fixing his gaze back on me. “Do you have any reason to believe you’re being followed?”
“By who?” I said, straightening my posture but not turning.
“There’s a black car parked across the street and whoever is inside is particularly interested in the two of us.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Probably cops.”
“Or maybe it’s Victor,” He said.
“Jack…”
“Look Bianci, I know you don’t want to hear it but it’s too coincidental to ignore. If Victor didn’t kill my brother, someone in his organization did. That man was worried sick the Feds would seize his assets. That’s why he dropped all that money into the night club he’s opening right before this shit went down.”