Submission Specialist(Still a Bad Boy #2)(51)
Fuck. Ross was dead.
He was a bit of an asshole sometimes, but he was a coach, a friend, and the closest thing I ever had to a father figure. I’d pay them back for him too.
I shook my head and grimaced at the pain the movement brought. Holding the gel packs more firmly against my head, I forced down thoughts of Ross. There’d be a time for thinking about him, but everything I had left needed to be focused on Skylar.
What I needed was an explosive, brutal, knockout right out of the gate. That might have been easier if I hadn’t tipped my hand a little with that KO against Sanchez. Southgate would have seen it and taken some time out of his grappling training to dedicate to the striking side of things in response.
In my mind, I visualized scenario after scenario of the opening minute of my fight. Every step I could take, every counter-measure he could take, every way I could get him to expose his head for a knockout.
After a couple of hours, my mind started drifting to what I’d do after the fight, once I’d got her back. She might not want to see me, now that she knew a bit more about the real me, but if she was alive then at least I could have a chance to make her happy again.
Either way, I’d put her in my car and drive until I ran out of gas, then I’d steal somebody else’s car and drive in a different direction until that one ran out of gas. Then I’d put her on a bus to wherever I could, from wherever we were, and make my way back to New Ashby to burn the whole city to the ground if I had to.
One of the guys who came to the gym sometimes was ex-army. He once dropped the fact that he knew a guy still in the services who was dirty as fuck and not above supplying military-grade equipment in an unofficial capacity.
I’d get myself as much as I could afford, and put a mushroom cloud where that fucking mansion used to be. Of course, I’d make sure Gavino, his nephew and that piece of shit Renato Picolli weren’t in there when I did it. Oh no. I had some much more invasive plans for them.
First, I’d…
The room on the other side of my closed eyelids brightened up for a second as daylight flooded in from the door, then went dark again when I heard it slam shut on its spring. Some motherfucker had ignored the ‘closed’ sign.
Footsteps approached the mats, two sets of them. I didn’t bother to open my eyes.
“Gym’s closed, fuck off.”
“I’m not here for the gym.”
I turned my head and opened my eyes to see a big guy in a suit with some dainty little brunette chick standing next to him. He had the build of a pretty handy mafia soldier, maybe only a bit smaller than me, but his suit looked more expensive than the usual fare the low-level guys dressed themselves in.
What was this cunt doing here? Did Gavino send him to keep me in line? Make sure I was doing what I was told in the lead up to the fight? The smoldering embers of anger in my chest began to find fresh fuel.
“I don’t care what you’re here for. Fuck. Off.”
The guy looked from me, to the chick and back again. I could see the tats on his neck, and on his forearm and wrist. He had enough of them that I thought he must be some low-level guy who had a biggish payday, and blew his load on some ego-wardrobe.
What that woman was doing here I had no fucking idea. She was in the later stages of pregnancy too, by the look of things, so this was a fucking weird place for the Bertolinis to send her. Whatever, it didn’t matter.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
I shot to my feet and flung the gel packs, now barely below room temperature, off to the side. The woman took a half-step back, but the guy didn’t even flinch.
“The last guy who asked me that has to get his mommy to wipe his ass now. If you wanna fuckin’ join him, you’ve come to the right place, otherwise listen to me when I tell you this. Fuck. Off.”
If this dude didn’t leave soon, I was going to bury him on general principle. He looked unsure of himself for a second, as if this conversation had gone differently in his head. Big as he was he probably wasn’t used to any arguments. Well, I wasn’t like anybody else he ever met.
“Do you believe in fate?” he asked.
“Are you a fucking monk? Is this a motherfuckin’ mountaintop where you dish out your wisdom? You fucking cunt! Turn your ass around and walk out that door before I fuck you up in front of your bitch. You tell Gavino that Southgate’s going down. I’m doing my part and I’m coming for Skylar.”
The guy took a deep breath and sighed, a resigned expression crossing his face before he started taking off his jacket. The caged animal in me leapt for joy and fresh adrenaline started pumping through my veins.
Another big tough guy who needed to learn that being big wasn’t enough to try to fuck with me. A willing victim to beat the shit out of and let some of this pressure off. I fuckin’ welcomed it.