“You in love already?” his boy, Mikhail asked, from beside him. “Never seen you reject a call.”
“And you ain’t with me 24/7 either, are you?” Ace snapped sarcastically. “You know what, dawg? I take that shit back. That was unnecessary. My head is just all fucked up right now.”
“All good. I was just fuckin’ around wit’ you anyway. Anybody know you, know yo’ ass ain’t nowhere near being in love.”
“For real!” Ace laughed.
“But, what’s goin’ on, though?”
“This fight shit, man,” he said frustrated. “Just waitin’ for it to happen. Waitin’ to see if it’s even gonna happen. Dex got me all on hold and shit. Won’t say shit about what the next steps are, and the damn clock is tickin’.”
“That’s not cool. As a manager, he needs to be movin’ with more professionalism than that.”
“Man, if you knew how tired of that dude I was. I know that he was my pops’ best friend and all that, but I’m really gettin’ to the point I can’t stand that man. When you at the point where you wanna put hands on people, they don’t belong in your immediate circle.”
“That’s real,” Mikhail agreed as they reached Ace’s car. “So you don’t have a replacement opponent for Shane Michaels yet?”
“Nah. Ain’t heard shit about it.”
“Damn. That shit don’t sound good. That’s millions on the table.”
“Yeah, missed millions. Dex’s punk ass was supposed to be workin’ on gettin’ Caivano.”
“D.C.? That man retired.”
“Yeah . . .” Ace said quietly. “But that’s supposed to change, though, from my understanding.”
Mikhail hissed, and shook his head. “That don’t sound possible, man. Dude did all kind of exit interviews and shit talkin’ about being done.”
“Well, shit happens and then game changes a bit.”
“Yeah, that don’t sound cryptic at all,” Mikhail chuckled.
“I’m just sayin’.”
“Well, shit, if it don’t happen, maybe they’ll get Shane back on the docket. Heard he got out that lil’ situation he had. Don’t know if he’s all the way in the clear, but he’s out.”
“You lyin’ to me.”
“Nope, not lyin’. Saw that shit the other day. You didn’t know?” Ace hunched his shoulder and shook his head. “Y’all sports figures and don’t none of y’all keep up with the damn news? That shit is hard to believe,” Mikhail laughed.
“Fuck the news, man. Any kinda news. Too much bad shit happenin’ in the world. Got enough struggles.”
Mikhail burst into laughter. “Struggles?! Dude, you’re on millionaire status. Let my ass have those kind of rich people problems. Sheeit!”
“Shit goes way deeper than—”
Ace’s sentence halted midway when his phone rang again from the same number he had rejected a few minutes earlier. The caller’s persistence angered him, and his tone reflected that when he answered.
“Fuck is this?” he shot into the phone line.
“Wow, why so angry?”
“I’m asking one more time before—”
“Yeah, let’s get salutations out the way and to the point, why don’t we. This is Shane.”
Ace pulled the phone away from his ear and looked over at Mikhail, a smirk on his face. He started to laugh out loud.
“Shane?” he asked for clarification. “Shane Michaels?”
“Pretty Boy. Yeah, muthafucka it’s me.”
“What you do, suck some dicks and got out early?” Ace shot.
“You real funny, my dude. I just wanted to get in touch with you to let you know you fucked with the wrong one. You will see me.”
“First off, I don’t know what the fuck you talkin’ about. It ain’t my fault that you out here rapin’ nice women. No means, no. Maybe your moms didn’t teach you that. Second off, is seein’ you supposed to scared me?”
“You know like I know . . . since I took a few of ya bitches . . . that I have never had to resort to that. I know this is all you. Got you and that dusty ass Dex written all over it. But let me say this, fam, you fucked with my livelihood. See, I came in this with money so I ain’t out here having to hate on the next man to make moves. But I—”
“Aye Shane, you done whinin’ yet? Because I’m bored.”
“All good. I just wanted to make my presence known. Let you see how easy it was for me to get in touch. Enjoy your day. We’ll meet soon . . .”
“Is that a threat?!” Ace yelled, as the line disconnected.
CHAPTER 36
Dario
“Hi, sweetheart,” my aunt greeted, when I walked in her front door. It was almost an hour after I left my mother’s that I’d made it there.
“How are you, Zie?”
“I’m good,” she said, with a look that told me my mother had already made the call. She grabbed both of my hands into hers. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“I appreciate those words, Zie. Where is he?” I asked her, eager to do what I came to do.
“He’s out at the court.”
“Is Freddie with him?”
“No, Freddie came inside a short while ago.”
“Alright.”
Lennox ran ahead of me, barking playfully, alongside Rai, as he dribbled the ball. The whole time I was walking to where Rai was, I was trying to figure out what I was going to say to him. I was broken into a million and one pieces; but I couldn’t let him know that. I had to keep it together, and was hoping like shit that I was going to be able to do that.
In the distance, I saw Rai running up court, making his shot and then running back around the court rounding up again. There was stress present in his demeanor. Don’t know how I knew that, but I saw it. His shoulders, his stance. The bond between him and Chanel was so strong, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he sensed that something was going on.
“Rai . . .” I called out, as I neared.
“Hey, Dario,” he said, coming over to me. He held the ball against his hip and stared up at me, lines of questioning present in his eyes. I was about to begin speaking a speech that hadn’t quite been prepared, when he asked me solemnly. “Where’s my mom? I was in the house a little while ago and my grandma, Denise, called. Grandma V’s voice was weird, but . . . I don’t know. Everybody is being quiet about something, so I figure that something big happened. Did y’all break up, again?”
“No, man. We’re . . . we’re solid. We’re family. There’s no breaking up that’s gonna be happening.” I rubbed his shoulder and pulled him into a hug against me, while I contemplated delivering the news.
“Okay, so what’s going on then?” He looked over my shoulder, slight hope appearing in his eyes. “Is my mom inside? She sent you to tell me what? What’s something that she would want you to tell me and not her . . . or both of y’all together?”
“Something happened, Rai.” My body drew a warmth inside that was so potent, I thought I was going to pass out. I was filled with anger and sadness and I wanted to destroy shit . . . somebody. Literally, tear them apart. What the fuck am I to say to this kid who loves his mother to death?! “But I’m gonna fix it. I swear as soon as I can, I’m gonna fix it.”
“Fix . . . what?” he asked.
Just say it, Dario! I silently coaxed myself.
“It’s something that happened with your mom, Rai. The day she went shopping.”
“The day that you took me shopping?”
“Yeah, all that same day . . .”
I paused and I knew that it wasn’t the fucking time to do that, but I honestly didn’t know how the fuck to deliver what I needed to deliver and I was dying on the damn inside. The closer I got to having to say the actual words, the more I felt like a failure.
“Dario!” Rai shouted, jarring me from the comatose state I didn’t know I’d fallen into.
“Somebody . . . they took her, Rai—”
He took a few steps back, then looked down. “No. No. Nooo, that didn’t h
appen,” he said, shaking his head, quickly, side to side. “No, that didn’t happen. Let’s call her phone right now,” he said, moving away from me to walk toward his phone. “It’s in my hoodie. Hold on.”
“Rai . . .” I said, calmly, grabbing his arm to keep him from moving.
“Let me go!” he yelled, as tears fell from his eyes. “I need to call my Mama, Dario! Move!”
“Rai, listen to me, man. Just listen,” I begged, trying to get past his hurt. “I’m going to fix this. I will make sure that we get your mom back. Look at me. I need you to hear me.” When he looked up at me through a pool of tears, I repeated for him. “I. Will. Fix. This. Okay?”
He just stared at me, his face a faint crimson, his eyes bloodshot from crying. As I pulled him into my chest to comfort him, I felt the rigidity of his tense body. He didn’t believe me. That hurt. He didn’t believe that I’d bring his mother back to him. So now, not only had those fuckers taken my world, they’d taken all faith in me from a kid that I’d die for.
They had to pay.
CHAPTER 37
Wayne
It didn’t surprise Wayne that Steve Reza, the head of top rank boxing, agreed to meet with him on the weekend. He knew that just the mention of Dario “D.C.” Caivano’s name in the same sentence with, “Coming out of retirement,” would get the juices flowing all around the boxing world. Dario was a hot commodity. He left at a time where he was still the one to see. Him being as hot as he was and as sought after as he was, was the reason that Wayne was so confused when Dario announced retirement just a year before. He was sure that Dario was kidding, but as the days dwindled and the time neared, Dario’s stance never changed. He was serious about ending it all, and moving onto another phase of his life—especially after he met and fell in love with Chanel.
“Wayne, Wayne, Wayne, what’s up, my man?”
Steve Reza entered the second-story VIP lounge of his Las Vegas restaurant. He was bigger than life, powerful. People likened him to a younger-looking Chazz Palminteri. His features were dark, he stood at six-foot-three, and had intense eyes, that always made people talking to him feel as though he saw right through to their truths, as well as their lies. He walked up to the large seating area, wearing designer gear, from top to bottom, and bathed in Clive Christian. He held a Cohiba in one hand, and a large glass filled with Honey Jack Daniel’s and Coke, in the other. He wreaked money.
“Long time no see, Reza!” Wayne said, standing to greet him. “It’s been a while. How’s things with you?”
“Everything is good,” Steve answered, as both men took their respective seats across from each other. “What about you? I was surprised to hear from you, but glad, nonetheless. You know Caivano’s name wakes the goddamn dead,” he said, smiling.
“I appreciate that you took this meeting so soon. I really do.” Wayne scooted forward to reach for his vodka tonic. His nerves were attacking in every direction. It was all the emotions, compiled and stacked on top of each other. He knew that Dario was relying on him to move things along quickly. It was do or die for him. He wanted to prove to Dario that he was on his side and that he would do whatever it took to make whatever he fucked up right. “So, as I predicted, Dario is regretting leaving and wants to return to the ring. Poor guy’s been bored out of his mind.”
“That was quick. He seemed so sure about his decision. I mean, we were all shocked as shit when he walked away. I figured he was tired, since he’d been doing it for most of his life.” Steve downed the rest of his beverage. “I’ve never seen somebody wanna come back that quick! It’s only been, what? A month? Almost two?”
Wayne hunched his shoulders and smiled. “That’s what I said. But he’s all about the comeback. And, especially, when he heard about Hit Man talking—”
“A whole lotta shit!” Steve interjected, shaking his head. “That man is a clown. A first-class clown, and so is his manager. I have no respect for either of their asses.” Steve was unapologetic in his comment, and was downright disgusted. “I mean, I’m no saint, but the stench from that fucker, Dexter Jackson, can be smelled across state lines. I don’t know which of the pricks I dislike the most, but they deserve each other.”
“My sentiments very much mirror,” Wayne added, still fueling from the predicament Dex had him involved in.
“But yeah, Wayne, that idiot’s been real reckless with his mouth lately and I wondered why. I guess he got what he wanted, if Caivano is wanting to fight him.”
“Yeah, and since his supposed-opponent, Shane Michaels, got himself into a bit of trouble, this might be a good opportunity.”
“You think?” Wayne posed, wanting for Reza to be the one to make the final suggestion.
“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t. But Caivano is good for business. Not just that, if anybody can knock Wilder on his ass, it’s D.C., and that’s something I’d love to see.”
Wayne breathed a heavy, inward sigh of relief at Reza’s words. He thought it’d be a difficult task, but he was prepared to present a good persuasive argument.
“So, does that mean—”
“Means it’s a go. I’ll have my office get the paperwork over to you in the next 48 hours and we can go from there.”
“That’s perfect. I’m sure Dario is gonna love hearing this news. He’s eager to get to Ace.”
Steve stood from his seat, cigar in hand, and signaled for a hostess to bring him another drink. “So, you heading back to California or you staying for a bit?” he asked Wayne.
“I hadn’t thought about it, really. Was planning to just fly back out.”
“Nonsense. Nobody comes to Vegas for a few hours. I’ll put you up in a luxury suite, and a phone number to order something nice off the menu . . . if you know what I mean?” He grinned, before taking a long drag from his cigar.
Wayne stood from his seat, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “I know what you mean. And I accept.”
“Alright, come with me, so we can get you all set up.”
Wayne followed behind Steve Reza, excited for what was to come. Now that the ball was officially rolling, there was no need for him to rush back home. He could call Dario, update him on the move forward, and tell him to get to training—hard.
In the meantime, he was going to get settled into his suite, run out to buy some things to wear, and submerge himself in Vegas’ nightlife, with a nice piece of ass by his side . . .
CHAPTER 38
Dario
It was Sunday and the doors to Wicked were closed to the public. I needed my space to myself. Having a ‘CLOSED’ sign on the doors for whoever showed up, might not have been the best way. However, it was what I needed. Space. Freedom. Peace. A place to think freely, without possible interruption. Home wouldn’t do. I stood the chance of family dropping by, having to tend to Lennox, looking around corners and expecting to see Chanel. There was too much at the house, and I had to release so that I could be able to think clearly.
The sounds of Eminem’s Recovery album blasted throughout the first floor. Music was always that thing that worked to calm my nerves, when I felt control was out of my grasp. All other times, that worked. Today, however, it was working only minimally. Each time I hit the punching bag, I felt tons of strength leaving my body. But at the same time the strength left, more came to replace it. That bag represented all the shit in my life that I couldn’t control. My knuckles were still sore from pummeling Wayne, but I welcomed the pain. Almost felt like I deserved it. It was felt everywhere. My shoulders hurt, my head and my heart hurt. The more it hurt, the more I assaulted the piece of heavy weight before me.
I couldn’t stop.
Lucas’s killer’s face came to mind, Chanel’s ex-boyfriend’s face came to mind, the faceless fucks who took Chanel . . . all of them. All fucks that took something from my life!
“Dario!”
When I felt the hand on my shoulder, I jerked around to see who it was that had touched me. I was met with my father’s concerned face, mere inches away. It was almost as though
he was speaking to me telepathically. He put both hands on my shoulders and continued to look into my eyes. I knew that he was trying to reach me, but that was something that nobody had been able to do since the start of all this shit. I didn’t even want to be reached. Not until I was able to look at Chanel’s face again. The shit was killing me.
I twisted loose from my father’s grip, and although reluctant, he released.
“Dario, listen to me,” he insisted. “Come talk to me for a few minutes. Yeah?”
“Alright,” I agreed, removing my sparring gloves, and placing them on the side of the ring.
On the way up to the second level, I already knew that my father was there to lecture me on the situation. He had been calling me for a few days, but while I was trying to get all of the details for this upcoming bout together, I really only had a sole focus and that was on bringing Chanel home safely.
When we sat down, my father swiped his brow and released a heavy sigh. “Son, why haven’t I heard from you? Why did I have to hunt you down? Luckily, I had a key,” he said, looking around.
“Papà, you know the situation already.”
“I do know the situation. I just want to know why you’re dealing with it by yourself.”
“I’m not dealing with it by myself,” I stated, sharply. “I’m keeping a close eye on Ace. And Quinton is doing some work on the backend, as well. I have a plan in the works. A plan to get the cops off the trail, and that’s already in progress.”
“And what does that entail?” my father asked. “Because you got family right here in front of your face that you’re shutting out. I won’t stand for it, son. Your father is right here. I’ve been waiting to see what you needed from me. Maybe I shouldn’t have been waiting, but—”
“I got it taken care of, Papà.”
My father slowly stood from his seat and went to stand near the countertop. “We got it taken care of. We . . .” he emphasized. “If I had it my way, these motherfuckers would already be dead and six feet under the fucking ground. But I’ve been trying to follow your lead from the background and not interfere. I didn’t want you to feel like I was insulting your manhood. I didn’t want you to feel as though you couldn’t handle matters having to do with your family . . . on your own. I know that you want to solely be responsible for your woman; however, this is much bigger than machismo, son.”
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