Page 123 of Forgotten Comeback
A bone-chilling laugh cuts through the gym, and I realize that sound is coming from me.
The bell rings, and we surge forward. I make the same mistakes as before, baiting him. Gus falls for it, and I clinch my arms around his, my forehead connecting with his.
Gus’ head snaps back, and I surge forward, trapping him against the ropes, nailing him with a dirty liver punch. He tries to slow me down with a clinch of his own, but I’m too quick. I begin pounding the side of his neck. His head’s now lolled to the side, and I place a perfect punch where his neck meets his spinal cord.
His eyes roll back in his head as he crumbles to his knees, but I don’t stop, landing an illegal punch to his head. His neck snapsviolently as he goes down, and it takes three men to pull me off of him.
“Fuck, somebody call for the ring doc!”
“Too late. He’s already dead.”
It is too late, because I let loose on everyone who’s still breathing.
Taylor
Gavin’s mentally stuck in that ring, and I squeeze his hand, trying to help him return to the here and now. “Gavin, it’s alright.”
“It’s not,” he says, his eyes out of focus. “I snapped, killed everyone in Gus’ entourage. I don’t remember much after that, but my brothers came and helped me burn down the boxing club to cover things up. Except my papà found out. Somehow that fucker always knew everything.”
“Gavin, look at me,” I tell him, and his weary eyes meet mine. “You were the child. Every adult in your life failed you. That includes Maria. She groomed and abused you; that wasn’t love.”
The back of his head hits the couch, and he examines the ceiling. “I guess it fucked me up in the head more than I’d like to admit. It felt easier not to get attached to a woman after all that went down, until…” He trails off.
“Until what?” I press him.
He releases my hand, both of his falling to the top of his head. “Until you had to claw your way into my damn cranium and poke around up here!”
“You don’t think that you’ve gotten in here?” I tap my own temple.
“Taylor, I don’t want to play games with you anymore.” He grabs my hand. “I want you to be my girl, and I mean it. I’m not perfect, but dammit, I’ll try my best. Give me another chance,” he begs.
Standing firm on this, I shake my head. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”
“Still in there, poking around,” he says with a mirthless laugh.
“Tell me.”
“You’re not the only one who wore grippy socks,” he says quietly.
Gavin
Fifteen-years-old
Flames lick the roof of the boxing club as we peel out of view. “Fuck, this is bad,” Dante tells Luciano.
“Rocco, talk to us. Tell us what happened.” Luciano locks eyes with me in the rearview of Mama’s stolen SUV.
“I killed them,” I mumble.
“We got that much,” Dante snaps. “Gus was an associate of Papà’s. Our old man’s gonna be pissed if he finds out what happened.”
“Here’s hoping he doesn’t find out,” Luciano says.
“And if he does?” Dante challenges.
“Fuck,” Luciano barks, slapping the steering wheel. “Let me think about this for a second. Did you at least have a good reason?” he asks me.
“Gus murdered his wife in front of me.” I don’t tell them the rest; Maria made me swear never to tell anyone about us.
