The giant rushed at him, waving the gun, and Mikai lifted his arms to his face but the man jumped back laughing.
“Nice moves, slugger. I can’t wait to tell Mr. Carlucci you’re a boxer! He loves boxers! See ya later!”
As Mikai sat in the ruined room, he was foggy, unfocussed. He didn’t know what way to turn. I need to call Joe, he immediately thought. No! You can’t call Joe. He will be completely disappointed in you. You made him a promise and you screwed up. Again. How many times are you going to disappoint the man? You can’t do that to him. What can he do anyway? He doesn’t have any money. Knowing him, he’ll put out a second mortgage on SkyTrain to help you. He has done enough for you. You have to be a man and figure out a way out of this by yourself. Mikai continued to drink, his mind whirling. He considered running but he knew he couldn’t do that to Joe either. Who had twenty-five grand? Who?The epiphany suddenly struck him. He turned to the phone which had been ripped from the wall and plugged it back in. With trembling fingers, he dialled a number. When he hung up, he walked into the bathroom and removed the bag from inside the vanity mirror. He was going to need all the courage he could get for this.
“Well, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Mikai.” Miles stepped over the pile of glass on the floor and shook his head.
“You don’t have to rub it in, Miles. I know what I’ve done.” Mikai clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, a side effect of the drug he had snorted. Miles peered at him with interest.
“You okay, Lefty?” he asked. “You look a little wired.”
“Well, yeah! I am a little wired! I just got threatened by a gorilla! I owe money to the mob! I’m more than a little wired.”
“Okay, okay, calm down. No need to yell at me. I’m here to help you.” Miles sat on the floor and Mikai immediately rose to his feet. He didn’t want Miles to sense that he was high.
“What am I gonna do?” he asked, beginning to pace the small space. “I don’t have the money to pay them off.”
He secretly hoped that his agent would volunteer a loan so that he wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of asking him. He had no way of knowing that Miles had already seen the fine, white powder around Mikai’s nostril.
“Yeah, I guess not,” Miles said pensively. He stared at Mikai and the younger man shifted his eyes guiltily.
“I…uh…I don’t suppose you could help me out?” Mikai hated himself as soon as the words left his lips. He couldn’t believe he had to grovel for money. I’m a fucking champ! I should be lighting cigars with hundred dollar bills! This is beneath me. Shit, I should have done another line before Miles got here. He looked at his shaking hands.
“No, Mikai. I’m not giving you money,” Miles told him firmly. Again, Mikai felt his jaw lock. He glared somewhat angrily at the agent.
“Why not, Miles? I’ll pay you back! I’m good for it! You know where to find me!” he protested, his fists balling in anger. “I need you to help me, Miles!”
“Yeah, I know. And I will. But not by giving you cash.” Mikai looked up questioningly, grinding his teeth.
“Then how?” Miles said nothing for a moment, considering his words.
“I know Alex Carlucci,” he said slowly. “Maybe I can talk to him and you two can work something out.”
“You know Alex Carlucci?” Mikai said in disbelief. “Can you get him to forgive my debt?”
“I am not his brother, Mickey. He’s a reasonable man. I bet he’d be willing to work something out with you, given your skill set. Let me give him a call in the morning and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Yeah he sounds reasonable,” Mikai said sarcastically but Miles shrugged.
“Do you want me to help you or not?”
Mikai stared at Miles with both suspicion and gratefulness.
“What skill set?”
“Oh don’t be modest, Mickey. You’re a renowned boxer now. Everyone knows who you are.” Mikai felt a surge of hope at the words.
“How does that help anything?” Again, Miles shrugged.
“I don’t know. All I can do is try.”
“Are you sure he’ll listen to you?” Mikai asked sceptically. Miles rose to his feet, beginning to look annoyed at all the questions.
“Do you want me to try or not? It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? He can be a reasonable man. Let me get back to you tomorrow. Get some rest. You had a crazy night.”
Mikai slowly walked him to the door.
“Okay,” he agreed. “Thanks Miles. Sorry to be such an ass. I am just scared.”
“Yeah, I know, Lefty. Don’t worry. I got your back but you’ve gotta have mine too, okay? There’s one condition,” Miles said warningly. Mikai waited expectantly.
“What is it?”
“You can never tell Joe about this. Any of this.”
My marriage is a sham. Caitlyn lay awake staring at the ceiling, trying to stop the thoughts racing through her head. It was the third night that week which Patrick had not come home. As the hour neared four a.m. Caitlyn knew that her husband was out with another woman. We have not even been married for six months and Patrick is already bored of me. What will I do if he leaves me? She had not slept in days, noticing the strain in their relationship more and more every day. He was aloof now and a sudden moodiness had materialized from nowhere. Once he had been easy going, a little boyish even but now he snapped at her for no reason and no matter how hard she tried, Caitlyn could not seem to reach him. If she tried to speak with him about what was wrong, he would disappear for hours. It had gotten to the point that whenever he did stay home, he fell asleep on the sofa but those occasions were becoming fewer and farther apart. More often, Caitlyn spent cold nights hugging her pillow, wondering what had gone wrong.
Somewhere in the giant house, Caitlyn heard a door open and she exhaled. She had not even realized she had been holding her breath. Patrick was finally home. She did not know how to handle him. She worried that pressing him would push him further away or worse, confirm her fears. She opted to pretend nothing was amiss and continue with their life as if everything was as it had always been. When her husband entered the room, she quickly closed her eyes and waited for him to join her in bed. Through slits between her eyelids, she watched as Patrick began to slowly disrobe. She noticed he was watching her but from her angle she could not make out his expression. Is that love in his eyes or is he considering divorcing me? Is he going to leave me for another woman? She lay still as he peeled back the covers and slipped into the California king bed beside her. She resisted the urge to press her body against his and silently willed him to make the first move but he only let out a sigh and turned over on his side, his back to her. Caitlyn blinked back the tears which had filled her eyes. What will I do if he asks for a divorce? But before she could fall into despair, another voice answered her question. You will go find Mikai.
You can do this. You’ve been doing this your whole life. This is no different than what you do in the ring. But the pep talk was not working and Mikai was filled with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He sat in the back of the stretch limo, Alex Carlucci staring at him with a sardonic expression on his face. He was an impressive man for his age with shocking white hair but an almost completely unlined face. He was the quintessential stereotype of a mobster with a pinstriped suit and wolf- headed walking cane. His shoes must have cost more than everything Mikai had owned in his entire life.
“You okay, slugger? You look a little pale.” Carlucci leaned in and peered at Mikai with inky eyes through horn rimmed glasses. There was an almost mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“I’m fine,” Mikai replied quickly. “I’m fine.”
Mikai was not fine, not in the least. He could not believe he was sitting in the midst of the situation he found himself in at that moment. The mob kingpin was waiting for him to crack, to back out of the deal and the thought was beyond tempting. The alternative was equally as painful and Mikai rolled his shoulders as if he was gearing up f
or a sparring match. He heard a series of tense cracks erupt in his shoulders and a shooting pain sliced through his back from where the pipe had hit.
“There you go, buddy! Now you’re warming up. Go to it. I’ll be here when you get back.” Carlucci tapped on the glass partition with his cane and a moment later, the driver opened the door, stepping back to allow Mikai to exit.
“And Left Eye, don’t skimp. I don’t like shit done half assed. Capeesh?”
Mikai nodded without meeting his eye and scrambled out of the car, eager to be away from Carlucci but as the door closed behind him, Mikai was suddenly faced with the urge to run down the street. I can go hide out in Mexico for a few years. Surely Carlucci doesn’t have guys in Mexico. After a couple years, the heat will die down and he would have forgotten all about me. The idea, while tantalizing was a fantasy. Mikai knew what he had to do to make things right with Carlucci and this was it. Anyway, if I run, what will happen to Miles? He stuck his neck out for me. Carlucci might do something awful to him. That’s the way the mob works. They go after your loved ones if you don’t pay. It’s in all the movies. That was all the motivation Mikai needed to start moving up the long driveway toward the small bungalow at the end of the street. He did not allow himself to stop as he walked briskly up the cobblestone pathway. He tried to ignore the fact that he was hyperventilating. At the front door, he took a deep breath, trying to breathe normally. He lifted a powerful leg to kick open the portal. The frame splintered in a hundred pieces but Mikai did not pause. He rushed into the house, hearing the terrified screams of a woman from the rear of the property. He strode inside, cornering a young family in their living room. A small solemn-faced boy stared curiously up at Mikai from his playpen as his mother desperately ran toward him to protect the child.
“Stay where you are,” Mikai choked. The woman froze in her tracks, looking desperately from her husband to the child and back to her husband.
“Jeff! Do something!” she screeched, tears of terror streaking her face. The man was paralyzed, staring at Mikai. His green eyes seemed to reflect understanding as their gazes locked.
“You know why I’m here?” Mikai asked softly, silently pleading with the bile in his stomach not to spill from his throat. Jeff nodded slowly and his wife screamed.
“Take anything you want! Just take it and leave. We won’t call the police!” Ignoring her, Mikai closed the distance between them and punched the young father in the head. The child began to howl, instantly understanding the danger he was surrounded by. The blow caused the man to fall unconscious instantly and Mikai was both relieved and horrified simultaneously. He was not expected to hit a man down, was he? Carlucci didn’t want the guy dead. He just wanted his money. He stood uncertainly for a moment. Shit! How am I going to deliver the message about the money if he’s out cold? Mikai turned and looked at Jeff’s wife.
“Tell your husband he now owes Mr. Carlucci eight thousand dollars. I’ll come collecting again Friday.”
“What? He owes who what? You have the wrong man!” she cried. “You son of a bitch! He’s a law student! He doesn’t owe anyone anything!”
Mikai almost walked away without responding but something stopped him. The look of naked anguish in her eyes made him speak.
“Your husband has a bad gambling problem. You better get him to stop before it’s too late for all of you. Next time someone might come after your kid.” Her face went grey at the thought and she scooped up her son protectively, tears streaming down her face.
Mikai left the house and hurried down the street to meet the limo. Carlucci rolled down the window and noted the blood on Mikai’s fists. He nodded approvingly and tapped the glass partition without saying a word. The car disappeared down the street, leaving Mikai in an area of New Jersey he did not know. He was obviously expected to make his own way home but he had no idea where to start. When he was sure that Alex Carlucci’s car was gone for good, Mikai suddenly began to breathe slightly easier. Okay. Okay, that was bad. It was awful but it’s done and you’re even now. You don’t owe Carlucci any money. You made a stupid, drunken mistake and you paid dearly for it. Time to go home and forget any of this ever happened. Miles will never talk about this to anyone and you can focus on the WBC. Make Joe proud.
Mikai started walking down the winding street and in a few moments, he was feeling somewhat normal. He finally oriented himself and caught a bus which would take him to the train station where he could catch a ride back directly to Manhattan. By the time he was sitting in a window seat in traffic, Mikai had managed to convince himself that the entire experience in the bungalow had been a bad dream. It wasn’t until the bus was almost at the station that Mikai received the text message which reminded him that it was not. It was from Miles and it read: “I hope you’re still in NJ. Mr. C needs you again. 19890 Sparrow Drive, Newark.”
At that moment, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach Mikai realized that he would never be free of his debt with Carlucci.
11
Chapter Eleven
I’ll be thirty three next week. Caitlyn stared at her reflection blankly in the glass. She almost did not recognize the beautiful stranger before her. Her golden hair was untouched by any grey and yes, her eyes crinkled charmingly when she smiled but those expressions of happiness seemed less and less. There was no sign of her aging yet Caitlyn felt as though she was twice her natural age. Lately, she had found herself questioning everything, her work, her beauty but most of all, her marriage. Patrick had become someone she did not know. He seemed to avoid her at all costs and while she felt old, Patrick seemed ancient. His dark hair was now streaked with white and there were definitive wrinkles around his mouth. Their conversations had become strained, superficial and with every empty word they exchanged, Caitlyn’s heart became more and more leaden. She knew she was biding her time until Patrick uttered the dreaded words, the words which would end their short nuptials. He is suffocating being with me. He wants to leave me. I can tell.
Caitlyn did everything in her power to make him happy. She kept herself in the same amazing shape which he had become accustomed to, visiting the gym three times a week and doing yoga daily. She cooked his favorite meals, learning recipes his mother passed down from his beloved grandmother. She dressed alluringly to bed but Patrick rarely saw the sultry lingerie she adorned as he had permanently taken up residence on the sofa on nights when he decided to return to their home.
Caitlyn pulled her sorrow-filled eyes away from the mirror and swallowed the lump in her throat. She had never been alone. She did not think she would survive if she was forced to do so. At first, she used to daydream that Patrick would finally confess to being in love with someone else and Caitlyn would immediately run into Mikai’s arms. But then she had read about his success, winning the title match and Caitlyn realized that he had already moved on from wanting her. He wouldn’t want me distracting him from his career now. He decided when he left Entrance that he was done with me. He would have come to stop the wedding if he had wanted to be with me. I only have Patrick now. If he leaves me, I will truly be alone. I have to do this. Desperate times call for desperate measures, she told herself as she made her way downstairs. Patrick was sprawled on the couch, nervously biting his nails. It was a habit he had recently picked up and Caitlyn knew it was merely a manifestation of his guilt. He looked up in surprise as Caitlyn sauntered into the room.
“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, almost accusingly.
“I was waiting for you,” she told him truthfully. “Like I always do.”
“Sorry…I…uh…had a late meeting,” Patrick lied.
“I understand,” Caitlyn lied back. She approached her husband and he seemed to shrink away from her as she perched on the edge of the couch. He averted his eyes and resisted the urge to remove his hand as she rested a pale palm atop his.
“I want to talk to you, Pat,” Caitlyn told him, watching him closely.
“I’m really tired, Catey. Can’t it wait
until morning?”
“No,” Caitlyn told him firmly. She was afraid she would lose her nerve if she waited any longer. Patrick scowled, unaccustomed to defiance.
“I have a big case load – “
“I don’t care!” Caitlyn’s voice rose an octave and she realized she was nearing hysteria. She forced herself to lower her tone.
“It’s really important.”
Patrick narrowed his dark eyes and waited, his mouth a thin, unimpressed line. His breathing seemed to deepen as if he was anticipating a fight.
“Well?”
Caitlyn took a deep breath.
“I’m pregnant.”
She watched as his face went through a variety of emotions, settling on anger.
“What? How is that even possible? We haven’t – “
“Had sex? Yes, we have. Two months ago. You came home drunk and crawled into bed with me. You finally touched me for the first time in weeks.” Patrick began to shake his head but Caitlyn smirked and nodded.
“It’s true. We’re about to be parents.”
Her heart grew heavier as she saw the deep disappointment in her husband’s face. He’s devastated by the news. Before we got married, he mentioned having children so many times! Now he looks like the world is about to end. Patrick cleared his throat.
“So, what are you going to do?” Shocked, Caitlyn’s mouth dropped open and she snatched her hand away from him, appalled by his callous question.
“What am I going to do?” she echoed with anger. “I am going to take prenatal vitamins, drink milk and grow a healthy, intelligent child. What are you going to do?”
She stared at him, challenging him. There is no way he can leave me now. He wouldn’t ever survive the hit his reputation would take if he left his pregnant wife for his mistress. His law practice would suffer, his family would be furious. As if he could read her thoughts, Patrick lifted his head and looked into Caitlyn’s aqua eyes, nodding.
Eye on the Prize Page 9