Page 112 of Off-Ice Misconduct
“Some. Most are a result of the consequences of boxing.”
“You said was. So … he’s dead?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know if I should give condolences or not.” He takes his hand back.
“How about you let me tell the story, hmm?”
“Shutting up, sir.”
I doubt it, but I pile rice and broccoli onto each plate as I figure out how to describe Uncle Jasper. “He was unrelenting and cruel when he felt he needed to be. Severe, but fair.” I pause on the word fair. Uncle Jasper’s view of fair might differ from Ace’s. I know it would.
He studies me, scooping up the now full plates, a wet curl fallen in the middle of his forehead, biting his lip in the way that makes him look so innocent that I have to ruin him. Ace isn’t a stranger to hardships; losing his mother took something from him, but the way I grew up is a story you hope is only true in fiction.
“Sit,” I grunt.
Ace sets the plates down, and I pour a little wine for us. Talking about my uncle requires alcohol.
“You’re sweating, Daddy. You sure you wanna talk about this?”
“Would you rather not hear?”
“Oh, no. I wanna know everything about you, but I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Scared.”
Shit, am I? I clear my throat.He’s not here to rule my life anymore.“He ran a strict household, which didn’t suit Tate.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Your hard ass probably thrived,” he teases. A knot in my chest releases.
“Tate hated it with Uncle Jasper, but we didn’t have anywhere else to go. I promised him all the time I’d make abetter life for him. An easy one. Uncle Jasper overheard us.” He punished me soundly, but Ace doesn’t need to hear that part. He can probably guess. “He had a proposition for me.”
“Yeah?” Ace chews a mouthful of steak, humming about the taste as juices leak from his lips. His tongue licks them away, and I want to lick him.
“He noticed my size. I was growing rapidly. Part of how Uncle amassed his fortune was in the underground fighting ring.”
“A real-life fight club?”
“Sort of, but an even more illegal one that allows fifteen-year-old boys to participate.”
“You were fifteen?”
“When I started. Yes.”
“Fuck, Luke.”
I tear off a hefty bite of steak, sinking my molars into the hot beef, hard. It’s better I chew than respond to that until I can gather my wits.
“I still have complicated feelings about the whole thing. I was terrified at first, but I grew to like it. Hated the training, but it was necessary.” And like any teenager, some nights I plain didn’t feel like it, but I still had to go. Even for the opponents I knew were gonna kick my fucking ass.
“I’ve decided already, I’m glad the bastard’s dead—sorry, not sorry.”
I smile. He’s an endearing menace, saying something like that on my behalf, but I bet Uncle Jasper would have made him sorry. That’s if he could get his hands on Ace. I’d never let that happen.
“This steak is fucking awesome by the way. Soooo, what was the deal? He must have given you something good for you to accept.”
