“You’re full of shit. Is it about Zia?” My dark eyes narrow, and I look away. I don’t want him to think badly of Zia, so I remain silent. His sigh is loud enough to echo around the entire gym. “Fine. If you want to exhaust yourself that much, then forty laps. Go.”
My gaze lifts to his, and his eyebrows rise in challenge. Ripping my gloves off, I toss them at him, and with a twist of my lips, I stride outside to complete my laps, knowing he’s deadly serious. I push myself to run faster, my heart aching with every step. Even the pain in my body can’t eclipse it. It’s tight and hot, and I struggle to breathe. I haven’t had a single beat of my heart without that ache since Zia walked out.
When I finish fifty laps, refusing to stop even at my father’s urgings, I collapse on the mat and pour a bottle of water over my head before gratefully accepting another from Charlie, chugging it as I try to catch my breath.
“Why are you doing this, Nikko? Talk to us.” I ignore Charlie’s urging, but unlike my father, he doesn’t get annoyed and push me to talk. He simply waits. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here, okay? Whatever it is, we can figure it out. Don’t kill yourself over it.”
My earlier thoughts circle back, a plan forming, and I finally look at him.
“Charlie, can you do me a favor?” I ask as I sip my water, my eyes locked on the sparring boxers in the ring.
“Sure, what’s up?” he replies, kneeling next to me.
“Invite our sponsor here. Make up a reason, but make it one he can’t refuse.” I look at him. “You can do that, can’t you?”
“I can try,” he answers.
“Good. Get him here as soon as you can.” I stand. “That’s how you can help me.”
I wait anxiously as the car pulls up, a familiar black sedan surrounded by SUVs, and I start to pace on the mats in the gym. It’s late, so most others have gone home, and my father is in his office. Only Charlie and I remain as the doors open and they step inside, the guards parting to reveal Mr. Landry, our sponsor and Zia’s friend. He shoves his sunglasses up and wanders over.
“Well, this doesn’t seem like an emergency. I take it you lied?” He looks Charlie up and down. “Cunning, I like it. Well, I’m here. Are you going to try to kill or blackmail me? I’m good with either. I just like to know so I can have the right reaction.”
Charlie gapes. “What? Neither!”
“Well, that’s boring,” Mr. Landry murmurs as he runs his eyes over me, but I’m searching the crowd with him for a familiar face. It’s just a sea of guards.
Zia isn’t here.
He didn’t come. It was a long shot, but my shoulders slump in disappointment when I look at Mr. Landry. His eyes are calculating, seeing too much. “Now I get it. Leave us,” he tells Charlie.
“What? No, I’ll stay?—”
“It’s okay. Make sure my father doesn’t come down,” I say before glancing at him. “Mr. Landry and I need to speak.”
Charlie frowns as he looks between us, then he presses his fingerinto Mr. Landry’s chest in warning. His guards reach for their waists, but Landry holds up his hands, stopping them as he stares down at Charlie with a curious look. “If you so much as look at him wrong, I will make your life miserable,” Charlie threatens before glancing at me, then stomping upstairs to do as I asked.
Mr. Landry’s eyes track him as he goes. “He’s fun.” He looks back at me. “So, you got me here like you wanted. I’m assuming the lie about the contract was because you wanted to speak to me, so speak.”
“Where’s Zia?” It blurts out of me, but I can’t take it back, nor do I want to. “Is he okay?”
“Why would you ask that?” His head tilts as he watches me. “Ah, that’s why.”
“Why?” I repeat, feeling confused.
“You’re the reason my friend has been on a rampage these last weeks.” Mr. Landry smirks as he watches me. “You care for him, were probably sleeping with him, right? I wondered who was making him so happy recently, and now I know. What happened?”
“Is he okay?” I ask.
“That’s not how this works. In business, it’s called a trade. You tell me what I want to know, and I’ll answer you,” he retorts.
“We were attacked. Someone shot at us. The next day, he was gone,” I grumble.
“Sounds right for Zia. He has a hero complex. He blames himself for everything, thinking he needs to save everyone. If someone he cares about is in danger, he won’t stop until it’s finished, hence the rampage. He’s fine.” He holds up a hand. “Not physically hurt, but he’s in a scary mood. Even I wouldn’t fuck with him right now. He’s got the look of a man who’s about to commit crimes in the name of vengeance. If he left, it’s for a reason. You’re a boxer, Nikko, and about to be a champion. Zia is going many places, but that is not one of them. What he is going to and will do could ruin your name and chances. Don’t make him the reason why. He would never forgive himself.”
“Why would you help him win the bet?” I ask. “You didn’t even mention that, just him.”
“He’s my friend.” He shrugs. “We are brothers. I never want to seehim get hurt. Zia is complicated. He’s hard on the outside, but on the inside, he’s soft as hell. If you ruin your chances at your dream, he will blame himself for life. Don’t make him do that. He’s had enough suffering.”
