by Ashley Jade
He blanched but lifted his chin. “The most important person in the world to me. And that's all I'll say about that,” he said before frowning. “You have some real potential. You're better than this life. You're smart...you're not like him.” He paused. “You don't have to be like him.”
I rolled my eyes. “What is this shit? Some sort of after school special or a drug run?”
He shook his head. “You're not cut out for this life, kid. I feel it in my bones. You're meant for something better than this shit.”
“You're wrong,” I whispered. “DeLuca's on his way to becoming the most powerful man in New York...most men would consider it an honor and a privilege to be his son. Most men would consider it their saving grace.”
I hiked a shoulder up. “Besides, there's nothing I can do about it anyway. I'm his one and only son. He's has my whole entire life planned out.”
He took a deep breath and continued reading his book, some Stephen King novel in the Green Mile series. “That's a travesty. You could have done some real good things in your lifetime, Ricardo.”
After that, we stayed silent and completed the drug run.
But I knew with utmost certainty...that he was an undercover cop. I think he knew I was on to him, but he took the risk talking to me anyway. That's how important it was.
Cop or not, I couldn't find it in my heart to rat him out.
With the exception of DeLuca, no one had ever given a fuck about me or my future before.
But this guy seemed to want the best for me, and he didn't even know me.
Maybe he was right...I didn't have to be like him.
The next time we saw one another, he brought his novel and continued reading.
“You like to read, too?” I asked.
“Stephen King's my favorite. Great author.”
I nodded. “Yeah, he's one of the best. His book, 'It' and 'The Shining' are awesome. I read them both in 5th grade.”
He glanced up at me from over his book. “Impressive.” He crinkled his nose. “Although, that must have been a little scary for a 5th grader.”
I made a face. “My father's a mob boss. I learned at an early age not to be scared of anything.”
“Fair enough,” he said while rubbing his chin. “Damn, my Goblin just started the 5th grade. She'd be scared out of her mind if she ever started reading Stephen King now.”
I sat up in my seat. “You have a daughter?”
He cursed under his breath. “No. I have a goblin.” He looked at me hard. “I trust that you would never tell your father about her..for obvious reasons. You don't strike me as the type of man to ever think it was okay to go after an innocent little girl.”
“No,” I said quickly. The thought that my own father could hurt his little girl made me sick. “God, no. Are you kidding? I swear, your secret's safe with me. No matter what happens.”
He visibly relaxed in his seat. “She'll be 10 in a few days. She's smart for her age, too. Very perceptive.” He beamed. “Greatest thing that ever happened to me, that goblin.”
I felt mildly jealous over how much this man loved his kid. I knew my father would never look at me in the same light.
I adjusted the side mirror's of the Ferrari. “It's kind of funny. My birthday's tomorrow, actually.”
“That is funny. Hers is on Halloween. Two days after yours.”
“That's probably why you call her goblin, huh?”
He gave me a side glance. “No, but that's why she thinks I call her goblin. My reason is much more profound than that.”
“You obviously really love her. She's lucky to have you.” I looked out the windshield. “I wish my father felt that way about me, but I'm cursed.”
“What do you mean?”
“He never wanted me. Up until two years ago, we didn't get along. I was pretty sure he hated me. I don't want the same things in life that he wants. I'm not like him, but it doesn't matter because I'll be forced to be. I know in the end no matter how hard I fight―I'll turn out just like him. Lately, every day that goes by I feel like I lose sight of who I really am.”
I looked down and snorted. “Look at that, I guess there is one thing I'm still scared of after all.”
He tapped his book and I followed his gaze to the car approaching us. “I'm going to need you to make a very difficult decision in the next few days. I want you to think long and hard about it because it will change your life.”
I nodded, already knowing exactly what it was he was going to ask of me soon. He wanted me to turn my father over to the feds.
And for the first time, I wanted to.
“I'll go out and make the drop-off,” he said. “You stay here this time.”
He opened the door and dropped his book on the seat.
“It's my favorite, but I think you'll be able to identify with the main character more than I ever could. There's also a passage highlighted that reminds me of you. Keep it, it's yours.”
With that, he walked out.
I picked up the book and quickly turned to the highlighted passage he was referring to.
“Sometimes there is absolutely no difference at all between salvation and damnation.”
He never returned back to the car after that. His buddy Ford showed up, and he took off with him.
What I didn't know, was that him leaving with Ford was one of my father's traps.
A set-up by his partner that would prove to my father that he was a cop.
To this day, I wished I'd made the drop-off and he had stayed in the car.
I wish I'd gotten a chance to make that deal with Graham.
Instead of the one with my father.
A heavy fist slammed into my face. “You know he's an undercover cop. Don't you?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about, Babbo,” I said. “Who?”
The fist slammed into my face again, this time, I picked my head up and assumed the defense stance. “That guy I told you to do the runs with this week. That's who,” he yelled. “You were supposed to tell me if he was trustworthy or not.”
“He is, “ I lied. “He's not an undercover. He's just a regular guy looking to make some money.”
His fist came again, but I blocked it and jabbed him. He reared back and I went after him again.
He might have weighed more than I did due to his heavy build, but he was no match for me and all my hour's boxing.
It was the first time I'd ever gone after him. The look on his face was priceless. Half proud, half pissed.
He raised his hand again but he didn't get the chance to use it because my fist connected with his face.
He spat blood at me and his nostrils flared.
“I'm disappointed in you,” he snapped. “Tomorrow you will learn your lesson about going against me. I'll see to it that you never do it again.”
With that, he stormed out of the room.
The lesson I was forced to learn came in the form of being locked in a car while watching him bash Graham's skull in with a crowbar.
On my 18th birthday.
All while his soon to be 10-year-old daughter watched.
I would never forget her eyes, they were the same as her father's.
I would never forget her screams as she watched my father take her father's life.
After we got home, I attacked my father with a vengeance I didn't know I had in me.
Uppercuts, jabs, hell even a few MMA kicks I'd learned.
“I will never—” I punched him. “Ever—” I sent a jab right to his nose. “Be like you.”
I finished off with an uppercut to his jaw.
I backed away and finally dropped my fists while blood dripped down his face. “I'm done. I'm not your son anymore. I'm fucking out.”
He stood up and laughed at me while taking a handkerchief out of his suit pocket. “You'll never be out,” he spat. “Half-breed degenerate or not...you're the only son I have.”
His jaw clenched. “I never believed in the curse before, but it must be tr
ue. Because how the fuck are you, my kid,” he sneered. “You don't even look like me.” His lips turned up in a snarl. “Except your eyes. Those eyes are mine. But other than that you look just like your whore of a mothe―”
He didn't get a chance to finish that sentence because I lunged and sailed my fist into his face again.
“Go ahead, Bruno. Say it again, I dare you. Call my mother a whore again and see what the fuck I'm capable of doing to you. You're not a man!” I screamed. “Look what you did today. I saw you take that man's life. He was a good man. And you stood there and smiled as―” I paused because I was hoping he didn't see that little girl after all.
His eyes gleamed. “As I what?” He took a step forward. “Watched that little girl cry and scream for her daddy as I killed him?”
He reached into his pocket for a knife and I backed up. “You're goddamned right I did. And I would do it again.”
“You really are Satan,” I whispered.
He tilted his head back and chuckled. “And you're my spawn. There's no way out of it. Don't ever let me hear you deny who you are again.”
I shook my head. “I'm not your son. We might share the same DNA. But I'm not yours. I'll never be you. You're dead to me.”
I turned on my heels and walked out of the room.
Only to feel something sharp pierce my arm. I flung my arm to attack but whatever one of his men had injected me with was strong.
Way too fucking strong.
Then I realized—it was the special DeLuca brand of heroin. Strongest brand of heroin to hit the East Coast.
Given I had absolutely no tolerance for the stuff, the effects were immediate.
I staggered until I fell on my knees and proceeded to throw up. That's when two of his men picked me up and tossed me in an SUV.
He only enlisted the use of his two best men and his SUV to do one thing.
Major drug deals or to kill someone.
I closed my eyes, let the euphoria wash over me and wished for death.
What felt like hours later, I was awoken by a sharp kick to the ribs. I opened my eyes and tried to take in my hazy surroundings.
The first thing I realized was that I was in a fairly small bathroom.
The second thing I realized was that it was a bathroom I recognized.
We were at my mother's apartment in the Bronx.
I saw DeLuca crouched down over the bathtub. He looked at me briefly before shutting off the water.
Then I saw who was in the bathtub. “Mom!” I screamed.
I hadn't seen her in years, but it didn't matter. She was still my mother and I would always love her.
Her eyes flickered and she moaned something unintelligible. “What's wrong with her?”
DeLuca pulled out a few syringes and that answered my question. I went to stand up but the bathroom door opened and his two big guard dogs took hold of my arms and forced me to sit back down.
“She's not dead yet, son,” DeLuca sneered. “I wanted to wait for you to wake up first.”
Chills ran up my spine. “Please, Babbo. I'll do whatever you want. Please don't hurt her.”
He'd already done that enough.
“Too late for that.” He began to draw up the syringes with heroin. “I thought killing that cop would have taught you a lesson, but evidently not. You leave me no choice but to do this now.”
“No!” I screamed. “Babbo, please. I learned my lesson. I'll be you. I swear. I'll do it. I'll live up to my legacy. Just don't kill her.”
He proceeded to tie two tourniquets around both my mother's arms while I screamed.
I tried to get out of his guard's hold, but I was too weak.
He positioned one of the needles above her vein and I felt the entire world stop.
Then he turned to look at me. With a big smile, he plunged it into her vein.
Tears welled in my eyes and I screamed even louder for my mother.
He plunged the second needle in her arm just as I managed to break free.
I ran over to him but I wasn't fast enough. Her head was already dipping under the water and her limbs were lifeless.
I reached out to grab her, but DeLuca slapped my face hard before wrapping a hand around my throat. “Shed one more tear, Ricardo. One more tear and I swear, I'll kill that little girl.” He lowered his voice. “And I'll do it right in front of you.”
Something in me snapped at that moment―I knew I would never defeat him.
He was too strong and powerful for me to beat.
Too evil.
I wiped my eyes and cleared my throat. “Yes, sir.”
“Atta boy.”
“I have a proposition for you,” my father declared two weeks later.
Since I knew that his propositions were nothing more than him forcing people to bend to his will, I just shrugged. “What do you need?”
I felt like I was on autopilot, just going through the motions of living.
Doing whatever it took to make him happy.
“You haven't been to the gym in the last two weeks.”
“My mother's dead,” was my only response.
His expression changed to one of annoyance before he said, “I'm aware. I was there, remember?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I fear I might have made the wrong choice by taking her life in front of you. I think I made you weaker instead of stronger. So, I have something else I would like to do instead.”
I stayed silent. It didn't matter what he wanted of me, I would have to do it anyway.
“I'm opening up an underground fight club.”
“Figured as much.”
It really was no surprise to me, I knew he always wanted to open one and given that he was on his way to being the biggest mob boss that ever lived, he was in the position to make it happen.
Frankly, I was shocked he hadn’t opened one sooner.
“You need me to man the door or something? Collect the bets?”
“I want you to fight,” he said.
That got my attention. “What do you mean?”
He folded his hands in front of him and had that look in his eyes. That look that said he was excited about his new business endeavor.
“I want the best of the best fighting in my cage.”
“Cage? That's MMA fighting.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'm aware, but I like the idea of the cage. It's more brutal and savage that way. Now, let me finish. Any style of fighting goes, Boxing, MMA, hell even street fighting.”
“What's the catch?”
He tapped his fingers together and smirked. “I'll be offering deals for my fighters. Something that will get them out of jail.”
“I don't understand.”
“You're not supposed to, son. Your deal will be slightly different than theirs.” He paused and looked at me. “Although, you'll agree for the same reason they will.”
“How so?”
He leaned forward. “What's the one thing you want more than anything?”
“Freedom,” I answered without a second thought.
“Exactly. If you make it through the next 10 years in my underground fight club―you're a free man. You'll never have to live up to the DeLuca name again.”
“Yeah, right. Besides, I still have the rest of my senior year of high school to complete.”
He looked me in the eyes and held out his hand. “You're dropping out. I'm many things, son...but I'm a man of my word. You make it through these next 10 years...alive. And you're free.”
I didn't even hesitate. If there was a chance I could be free, I had to take it.
I'd be out at 28. That was still plenty of time to live a good life, the way that I wanted. And if I didn't make it out alive, that wouldn't be so bad anyway. I had nothing to live for.
For the first time in my life, I matched my father's stare and a combination of determination and hatred filled me.
I wanted nothing more than to make it out alive.
I had to make it.
If for nothing else than to prove to him that I could.
I wanted to see the look on his face when I reclaimed my own identity and proved him wrong.
But even more than that, I wanted my freedom.
I shook his hand “Okay. Deal.”
Prologue (Lou-Lou)
I shook under my covers when I saw the doorknob begin to turn.
Even at 15 I was still so scared of that fucking doorknob.
Or rather, who was on the other side of it.
I knew I locked it before I went to bed.
But I also knew it was only a matter of minutes before my father picked the lock and opened it anyway.
Just like I knew he had finished making a pinata out of my mother for the night, and now he was here to 'calm himself down.'
Vomit worked up my throat. I fought him off for so many years, always managing to stop him right before he took the only good thing I had left to give.
God, I hated John Travine.
The man wasn't my father.
He was a monster.
The doorknob jiggled and I held my breath as I reached for my bat under the bed.
“Open up, Lucianna. It's Daddy.”
No. I fought the tears stinging my eyes. I knew I had to get away.
Forever.
There was nothing keeping me here in the first place.
My mother knew what he did but never stopped him, most likely because he beat her senseless a few nights a week and she was happy the heat was off her when he was in here with me.
The doorknob jiggled again, he was only a few short maneuvers away from breaking in my room.
It was now or never.
I flung the covers off my bed and reached for my small knapsack that I’d prepared for the moment I finally worked up the nerve.
My bedroom window was on the second floor, but a twisted ankle was nothing compared to my freedom.
I threw my knapsack out the window first and slipped on a pair of chucks before throwing my sweatshirt on.
I heard the latch on the door open. My time was running out.
I dangled one leg over my window, then the other one.