The F King:A Bad Boy Romance(58)

"Sit down," said the guy who had to be Gavino Bertolini.

"Fuck-" I started.

"Do it, Austin," urged Ken.

Fucked if I wanted to be tied up with my hands behind my back, but at  least five fingers moved from the guards directly on to the triggers  around the room. Ross was already sitting down before I slowly followed  suit.

Ken secured the cuffs on us, presumably because nobody else wanted to  get too close to me, while Gavino regarded us from across the room with a  disdainful look he might give to a cockroach. He didn't say anything  until Ken stepped back.

"So you're the fighter that's been causing so much trouble. I thought you'd be bigger."

I raised my eyebrows. Given his own size, comments like that were going  to make it pretty fucking hard for me to feign the respect these  Mafiosos wanted so desperately.

"Like I said to Renato, it's-"

Gavino shook his head. "They told me you were a stubborn little piss-ant  fuck. So I'm not going to be wasting more words on you than I have to. I  want to show you a little multi-media presentation and then re-enter  negotiations. Can't hurt, right?"

"Do what you gotta do." I shrugged. "Won't make any difference."

"Always." He looked up at one of the guys in the corner. "Frans."

A kind of metallic jingle caught my attention as Frans came out of his  corner, pulling out a spool of some kind of wire from behind his back. I  craned my neck to get a better view and saw he was wearing heavy  gloves. Of course, he needed them. That was razor wire.

Four other guys put away their handguns and pulled out similar gloves,  as Frans slotted the razor wire over a short pole bolted to the ground  near the corner. Fuck …  this wasn't good. I looked at Ken, and he was  staring resolutely at his own feet.

"What are you doin'? What are you doin' with that?" Ross asked.

Nobody paid him any attention, least of all Frans himself, who was  pulling the wire out in Ross's general direction. When he had enough  length, he wrapped it around the front of my coach's throat and the  razors bit in immediately.

Ross screamed and tried to move his upper body back as far as the bolted  chair and handcuffs would allow, but Frans kept the wire taut enough to  maintain contact without sinking in too far. In a few heart-stopping  seconds, all five of the glove-wearers were behind us, lined up like a  tug-o-war team as the first trails of blood started flowing down Ross'  neck.

"Stop! Stop!" I yelled, over Ross' unintelligible pleading. "Fucking stop! I'll throw it!"

"All questions are to wait until the end of the presentation," said Gavino and nodded at Frans.

"Austin!" screamed Ross.

"Heave!" yelled Frans.

All five of them hauled the wire backwards, running razor after razor  over and through Ross' neck like an impossibly sharp chainsaw. His  screams were quickly lost to gurgling sounds, as blood bubbles turned to  froth on his neck and his very life sprayed all over the place.

"Heave!"

"Fuck!" I howled, as my oldest friend's blood, skin and cartilage was cast off on to me.

I turned my head away, staring at the ground in front of the desk, as  the first cold fingers of fear were swamped by the wave of pure rage  that swept over me. If they made the mistake of ever letting me out of  these handcuffs …

Somehow, Ross stayed conscious for a few more seconds, but it wasn't  long before the person I'd known the longest was just a corpse in a  chair next to me. Over the pounding in my ears I could hear the heavy  breathing of the chain gang responsible for my friend's death, and I  started to form a strategy for what I'd do if I could just get my hands  free.

"What is the matter, tough guy? What's the matter, Killer?" asked Gavino.

I didn't answer. He'd have a heart attack if he knew what was going  through my mind right now, and that would be too easy for a cunt like  him.

"Cat got your tongue? Or are you finally listening to your motherfucking  instructions and you want to wait until the end of the presentation for  your burning fucking questions? Ken? Turn on the TV and press play on  that fuckin' thing there, then give me the remote."         

     



 

After a hesitation, Ken circled around me. Out of reach, even if my hands hadn't been secured I fuckin' noticed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him press a button on the TV and then  pick up the remote, studying it for a second and then jabbing it in the  direction of the DVD player. The screen flickered a couple different  colors as Ken handed the remote to Gavino, and then I heard a voice that  poured liquid nitrogen down my spine.

"A-Austin …  please-"

"Only what's on the script, bitch," came Enrico's voice.

With my jaw clamped shut so tight that I thought my teeth were going to  shatter, I turned to face the TV and saw Skylar front and center,  sitting in a chair just like the one I was in, with her hands also  behind her back. In front of her was one of those stands that people put  sheet music on, with some paper on it.

To the right of the screen, I could see part of some guy with a shotgun  pointed right at Skylar's head. Worst of all, I could see the terror on  her face, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to focus on  the writing in front of her.

If they hurt her …

"Austin, th-the Bertolini's have me. Th-they have a new deal for y-you t-to c-c-"

The shotgun wavered a bit. "Speak up, you worthless cunt!"

Skylar cringed away from the deadly weapon only a foot from her head.  "They h-have a new deal for you to c-consider. If you say no they'll …   they'll kill me. If you t-talk to the police …  they'll kill me. If you  can't do what they say, they'll k-kill m-me …  Austin! Help m-"

"Shut the-"

Gavino paused playback as somebody else entered the frame from the left,  knife in hand. Skylar's eyes were wide with fright, frozen there to  haunt me as Gavino sat back in his heavily-burdened chair.

"Austin, I didn't know … " said Ken.

"What the fuck?" said Gavino. "Get your ass the fuck outta here. Fuckin' apologizin'."

Ken looked from Gavino, to me, and then left the room with his head hung  low. A disgusted expression flickered across the face of the mafia boss  for a moment, aimed in the general direction of the door.

"If you fucking hurt-"

"Shut the fuck up and listen to your orders. I hear you don't wanna  throw the fight tomorrow, so I got good news for you. Now you don't have  to throw the fight, I want you to win."

My mind was whirling at a million miles a minute, trying to cope with  the extremes of anger, desperation and fear that surpassed even my first  ten years of life. What the fuck was he saying? After all this shit,  they were going to let me fight the way I fucking wanted to?

"That's right," Gavino continued. "But here's the thing, I wanna make it  interesting. I want you to win in the first minute of the first round.  If you don't do that, then Renato is going to cut that bitch's face off,  and then blow her brains out all over the wall for your disrespect.  Sound like fun? We'll record the whole thing and make sure to get a  bigger screen for you to watch it. Movie night, motherfucker."

"How do I even know if she's still alive now?" I asked, feeling my hate  for this fat fuck rising up in my throat like poisonous black bile and  dribbling out the corners of my mouth.

"You don't. I could tell you she's alive and well, here in this very  house, but I ain't fuckin' wasting my time provin' it to ya." Gavino  leaned forward again, looking me dead in the eye. "First minute. First  round. You understand? Now let's finish the presentation before you get  back to the gym."

Gavino pointed the remote at the screen and the video sprang back to life.

"-fuck up and stay still, bitch!"

The guy with the knife swatted the music stand out of the way and  grabbed Skylar's hair at the front of her head as he straddled her,  bringing the knife down as she struggled. I couldn't see what was  happening, but when her screams went up sharply with pain I was driven  out of my mind and started screaming too.

Every muscle strained until I thought they were going to tear. The  handcuffs dug into my wrists until I felt trickles of blood, and on  screen, I saw Skylar's face appear under the guy's arm for a few frames.  It, too, was smeared with blood.

A white hot supernova blinded me as I threw every single fucking thing I  had into my struggle. With a metallic twang, I heard and felt the bolts  on the front-right leg of the chair give way. Rocking back and forth  frantically, I felt the others getting loose.

I was going to tear these motherfuckers apart and eat them, I was going to fucking …          

     



 

Suddenly, everything went black.





Austin





When I regained my senses, I was being helped into Ross' gym by some of  the guys that trained there. Somehow I managed to deflect their  questions and convince them that the gym was closed for the day without a  fight breaking out or anybody calling the cops.