That spineless son of a bitch. He retreated to lean against the staircase leading up to the balcony, whipping his phone out as if he was already bored.
“You see, the thing about dealing with criminals is you have to remember they’re self-serving at their core,” Mr. Frydenberg explained to me as if he were giving a lecture. “They’re always going to do what’s in their best interest. And Shady here is going to prosper greatly from our new mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Shady just gave him a thumbs-up, hardly even raising his eyes from his screen.
“Criminals and businessmen both,” I said, rolling my shoulders.
He laughed low. Will took off the varsity jacket and draped it over the railing next to Shady, loosening up too.
I was going to beat his ass into this disgusting concrete until his every breath was a gurgle. His dad looked as if he’d hardly stepped foot on a treadmill in a decade, his gut poking out of his coat—it wouldn’t take much to get him on his ass either. Shady would be running by then; that’s what rats do. But I’d catch him. I’d chase him down and . . .
And . . .
Austin’s face flashed in my mind, his eyes wide but unseeing, blood slowly pooling around his head. For a split second, I was back on that street in New York, once again realizing what I’d done. How irrevocable it was.
I had so much adrenaline pumping through my system, so much rage and outrage, my body practically screamed at me to start throwing punches. But I also felt sick to my stomach. All three of the men standing before me were the lowest kind of trash, but I refused to take another life. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Not again. Not ever again.
I forced myself to take a deep breath, flex my fingers and not curl them back into fists. I knew I’d walk away from this broken in more ways than I could count—if I even walked away at all—but my decision was made.
“I’m not going to fight you, Will,” I said, proud of how steady and clear my voice sounded. “I was never going to fight you.”
“Oh, you’re going to fight me.” Will sneered, slowly pacing back and forth, closing in like a hyena.
“No, I’m not.” I shook my head. “I’m done with that shit. No amount of threats and intimidation were ever going to get me to throw another punch. Sorry you wasted your time putting all those posters up. Hope you didn’t get too many paper cuts.”
“Stop being a pussy and hit him!” Joseph’s voice echoed in the cavernous space. Like a good little boy, Will immediately moved to obey his father.
He sprang forward, throwing a wide right hook. But he wasn’t quick enough. I ducked out of the way and backed up, hands raised in front of me. I wasn’t going to fight him—but I was going to defend myself as long as I could.
Will growled and came for me again. Football had made him fast, strong—he was relentless. I batted his swings out of the way, dodging and weaving, but eventually I started to get winded.
He pulled back, dancing on his toes, waiting, but his face had lost some of its confidence. If this was for real, if I’d actually stepped into the ring with him, I would’ve already won—and he knew it.
“Do I have to do everything myself?” Joseph barked and shrugged out of his coat, letting it flop to the filthy ground, before loosening his tie. They both advanced on me. I considered running, but what was the point? They’d catch up—eventually. Even if it wasn’t before I reached my car and got away, they’d find me and do what they planned to do. Might as well get it over with.
I tried to get away from them, duck out of their reach, but it was two against one. After some grappling and shoving, Joseph managed to grab my arms and held me by the elbows as I thrashed.
Pain exploded in my skull with Will’s first punch, and my eye felt as if it had burst in its socket.
Is this what Austin felt, right before he stopped feeling anything at all? Or was there no pain whatsoever for him?
I saw the next hit coming and tensed, but it still hurt like a motherfucker when Will’s fist collided with my core. My insides clenched, and my stomach roiled. I half hoped I’d puke all over him.
Like a little bitch, Will backhanded me, but he was wearing a ring, and it split my bottom lip open. The hit rattled my brain even more after that initial punch. It threw my head to the side, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of Shady. He was still leaning on the railing, still casually scrolling through his phone. Unbelievable . . .
He glanced up and winced, but my full focus was taken up by Will’s fist smashing into my ribs. I coughed and wheezed, doubling over as much as possible with his father holding me tightly.
Finally, Will took a few steps back, breathing hard.
I spit blood onto the concrete and fixed him with as firm a look as I could manage through a rapidly swelling eye. “I was never going to fight you,” I repeated. “The police are already on their way.” I prayed that was true—or at least that they would believe it enough to leave. What if the police came past, saw it was as quiet as I thought when I arrived, and didn’t bother to check inside?
Shady’s chuckle echoed. Will grinned before stepping a little closer. “We both know the cops aren’t coming. And even if they do, what are they gonna find?” He spread his arms wide and looked around. “All I see is a man and his son protecting their property from a known murderer.”
“You think you can get one over on me, boy?” Frydenberg’s mouth was close to my ear, but he was practically yelling anyway. “I’ve been in business for years. Been running circles around the police and everyone in this town. I have eyes and ears everywhere. You think I don’t know about that little weasel Drew? My son has been keeping an eye on him for months. Weak piece of shit. Shady’s already taking care of him. I’m going to personally watch the life drain out of your eyes, and then I’m going to feed you to the rats. And that little whore of yours? Well, I guess she’s just going to have to forget you ever existed. Just like everyone else.”
He talked about business as if what happened here was the same as his stocks and mergers and emails. He insinuated he was having Drew and me killed as if it was just part of a bad day at the office. But when he mentioned Donna, that’s when cold, unadulterated rage coursed through me.
I growled, then threw my head back as hard and fast as I could. It hurt like a bitch, another blow to my already aching skull, but the crunch of his nose when I connected was beyond satisfying.
Will’s eyes widened and he rushed forward, but it was too late. I’d startled Frydenberg enough to wrench out of his hold and shove him toward his son. They stumbled but quickly righted themselves, both of them watching me with surprise.
I bared my teeth at them like an animal, fists clenched, eyes narrowed. Warm blood was trickling from my split lip down my chin, but I didn’t bother to wipe at it. I knew I looked feral. I felt feral—I wanted to tear them to pieces with my bare hands for even mentioning Donna. But I wasn’t going to attack. I wasn’t going to be that guy anymore.
“OK. That’s enough of that.” Shady strode forward casually, clicking his fingers and then slapping his hands, the sharp sound like a punctuation.
“Stay out of this,” Frydenberg barked at him.
Shady just cocked his head. “No. And for the record, I don’t like people taking credit for my work. You wouldn’t know my buddy here was even planning to bring your operation down if it wasn’t for me. Your idiot son was ready to fight him at the actual fight night tonight.” So there was another location, an actual fight. “I’m the one who got Drew out of the way. Unthankful bitch.”