Page 29 of Precious Legacy
Haldon has spent the past week helping me advertise for the first fight night in two weeks, thus producing an overwhelming list of patrons. We’ve already had interest from potential fighters, those eager to get some wins under their belt andearn some quick cash. I should be happier that we’re ahead of ourselves and that everything is coming together, but I’ve never been a fan of enjoying success when you don’t have someone to share it with.
“Come on, then,” Alvaro huffs beside me. “Spill.”
My jaw grinds with abated anger, the frustration I’ve been trying to ignore for the past week rearing its ugly head.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I lie.
“Sure,” he drawls. “And Trigger’s my biological dad.”
“Shit,” I whistle, long and drawn out. “Though, come to think of it, I see the similarities.”
“Fuck off!” Varo laughs, shoving me with his shoulder.
We fall into an easy silence, watching the guys below work tirelessly to add the finishing touches to the ring. He doesn’t push me to talk and I respect that, though I know he’s going to want to know what’s put me in a foul mood.
It’s been a week since my latest argument with Alanis, and she still hasn’t spoken to me. We left things heated and I stormed out, but that was only because I know what she’s like. She needs time to cool off and reassess, recharge those feral batteries of hers, because I can tell she wasn’t expecting me to fight back like I did.
Whatever her perception of me was from five years ago, I broke that apart with a single photograph, a memory I knew she’d forgotten about. But I haven’t. It never left my mind, even when I left the city. I took that damn photograph with me because leaving her was too fucking hard. As much as I wanted to stay, I couldn’t. Even when I promised I’d never leave her, I meant it. She was mine, and I was hers. We were forever and nothing would change that, not even the two thousand miles I put between us. I should’ve handled things better than I did, but I was always going to come back to her. Sheknewthat.
“I know she’s my sister, but if I need to do damage control, I will,” Alvaro murmurs, correctly assuming that my foul mood has to do with his twin.
I turn around and rest my back against the steel railing of the balcony. Nothing gets past my best friend. I should know better than to hide it from him, but some shit I’d rather handle on my own. “Thanks, bro,” I smile.
“So, what are you thinking about for this VIP area?” he asks, cleverly steering the conversation in a different direction.
Originally, we’d discussed making the mezzanine level only available to VIPs; those willing to pay extra money to be away from the carnage. Though I don’t know why anyone would want that, because the pits are the best seats. There’s nothing else that’ll make you feel a part of the action like the hopeful prospect of getting sprayed with blood and sweat.
Fortunately, the view from this far up gives you full sight of the warehouse, while maintaining a level of privacy. But that’s where the advantage of having this area ends, because it also poses a risk. Anyone could do anything up here, which means we’ll have to go heavy on security.
“I say we keep it for us, for now. The busier we get, the more we can think about increasing profits in other areas. For now, I want to focus on that down there.” I point at the ring now in its final stages. The ropes are in and the skirt is getting pinned into place. I’m practically buzzing with excitement, though I maintain a calm facade.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and all the excitement dissipates, replaced with a mixture of nervous energy and hope. Hope, because I really want it to be Alanis calling me—but when I look at the screen, a discontented sigh leaves my lips.
“Uncle,” I answer.
“I’ve got him,” he responds immediately. “It wasn’t easy. Slimy fucker might know the streets better than I do.”
A barrage of groans and wails pierces my ears, but it’s swiftly cut off by a heavy thud.
“I’ll bring him to The Ravenite and you can deal with him however you please.”
“Great, we’ll be there in a few hours. Let him sit and ponder his future for a bit.” My lips curl into a sinister smile that could rival the devil himself. My palms are practically itching to get ahold of the asshole who thought he could skim my profits. He slipped the net the first time with a warning, but apparently Cillian hangs up, I give Alvaro the nod. “We’ve got him.”
“About time,” he comments. “Did he really think he was going to get away with sleeping with the enemy? Fucking idiot.”
“Some people just aren’t business savvy,” I laugh, pocketing my phone and ignoring the elephant in the room. Alvaro’s reaction to Milo last week wasn’t that of distaste. I know, because it’s the same brand of hate Alanis feels for me. Whether Varo is prepared to address it or not, he’s got a hard on for Milo Kyrovsky.
I’m tempted to suggest thathesleep with the enemy, just so we can get an idea of what we’re up against, but even I know how fucked up that sounds.
“Kill is dropping him off at The Ravenite,” I say as we move towards the stairs. “We’ll let him stew for a few hours before we send the message.”
“I’ll give Haldon the heads up,” Varo suggests, taking out his own phone.
This is just another day for us, handling the idiocy of people who think we won’t find out that they’re leaking secrets to the enemy. I had my suspicions when The Laundromat got closed down, but my uncle managed to get confirmation of who was behind it.
We head out of the warehouse to our respective cars. My silver Aston Martin sits across from Varo’s Mercedes Benz, asleek black SLK model that I half considered stealing once or twice. My phone pings with an incoming message just as I’m opening my door, and since I’ve just spoken to my uncle, I’m expecting it to be confirmation of drop off.
Alanis: I suck at apologies.
