Inferno(75)

Nic’s forehead was pressed against the ground. After several fruitless seconds of struggling he tapped out. Cursing, he sprang to his feet and started brushing himself off.

Luca pushed off the wall and stalked towards him, his hands raised in aggravation. ‘What was that? I told you to focus. You’re too distractible.’

‘You were distracting me!’ I was taken aback by how angry Nic was. I knew he had lost, but it was just a game and it wasn’t like he had gotten hurt.

‘Stop acting like a baby,’ said Luca coolly. ‘You lost me a hundred dollars.’

‘Why don’t you fight me, then?’ said Nic, squaring up to him. ‘If you’re so knowledgeable then you’ll beat me.’

Luca waved his request away. ‘Don’t be so childish. We have to go now anyway.’

Nic pushed the matted hair from his eyes. ‘We’ve got time. Since you’re so concerned about your money why don’t you try winning it back? Five hundred dollars for the winner!’

Five hundred dollars. Whoa. I would have fought him for five hundred dollars. I had gotten beaten up by his uncle for much less. And that would go a long way to helping me skip town.

Luca wasn’t biting. ‘You’re so wound up,’ he said. ‘Calm yourself.’

I recognized the look in Nic’s eyes – that blazing defiance. Uh-oh. He kept coming at Luca; it was as if something inside him had been triggered and there was no backing down. ‘You’re too soft, are you? How can you run this family if you can’t even block a punch?’

Dom and Felice were exchanging loaded glances.

‘What is this?’ asked Luca. ‘What’s gotten into you?’

For the briefest second, Nic’s gaze flicked to me. ‘You know what it’s about.’

Luca was shaking his head. ‘Brother, you have gone mad.’

‘Or maybe you’ve gone soft.’

‘Ooooh,’ said Dom, riling them both up. ‘That’s fighting talk. Are you going to let him disrespect you like that, Luca?’

‘Do you ever shut up?’ I snapped at Dom. ‘Seriously. Grow up!’

Dom’s lips smacked together in a disgusting air kiss. ‘This is your fault, bella puttana.’

I flipped him the middle finger. ‘Vaffanculo!’

Felice laughed. ‘The Americano knows Italian!’

The atmosphere didn’t seem so playful any more, thoughts of earlier bets dissolving in the heat of Nic’s aggression. He prodded Luca in the chest. ‘You’re too weak,’ he said. ‘You’re cooped up here with Valentino like some glorified bodyguard. You’ve lost your edge. You’ve been on the sidelines too long.’

Luca stepped back. ‘Careful,’ he warned. ‘You don’t want to go down this road.’

‘I get it,’ said Nic, pushing into his brother’s personal space. ‘You don’t want me to embarrass you.’

He kept going. Dom was chanting at them now and Felice was laughing, his attention glued on the brothers.

Luca snapped.

‘Enough!’ he shouted, and the searing rage surprised us all. He was feral, heaving, dangerous. I pressed my back against the wall, wishing I could rewind time and not have come inside, setting into motion whatever this was. ‘If you say one more word, Nicoli, I’ll knock you out. Non mettermi alla prova!’

Even Dom was starting to look nervous. Felice had stopped smiling. An air of hostility descended and I felt the dark cloud of something else looming towards us. This was Luca unhinged. This was pure, palpable anger. It turned him into something else. Don’t say a word, Nic. Just keep your mouth shut.

Nic was all energy. He was putting on a show. His face broke into a grin, thirty-two bright white teeth glaring at Luca. ‘You’re all talk, Luca. You couldn’t knock Ignacio over.’

Luca lunged at him and their bodies connected with a thud. Luca took the first punch in the side of his head; it knocked him sideways and my stomach lurched. I shouted at them to stop but they were engrossed in one another, trading hits like they were punching bags.

Luca was much quicker than Nic, his movements turning to streaks of black as he whipped around him. It seemed easy for him, like being set to fast-forward was second nature. His retaliation came in six lightning jabs to Nic’s stomach and one to his chin. They almost knocked him clean out but he struggled upright, swaying on his feet.

They broke apart and I got the sense Luca was giving him time to recuperate, dancing wide circles around his brother. Nic roundhouse-kicked Luca, catching him heavy in the shoulder and forcing him off-kilter. Luca rallied, darting around Nic and grabbing him by the neck. Panting, he forced him to the ground, his black hair falling in strands across his eyes. Nic kicked against Luca’s side with his feet and he crumbled backwards, cursing. His gunshot wound. What a low blow! I had the sudden urge to slap Nic on the side of his head, and felt a twinge of surprise at the strength of my anger. They were being as immature as each other. It was a fair fight.