Chapter 10: drowning

LUCA

It appears as though Cain has officially made me his test subject. As in, he’s observing me closely, making notes of the skills I have that he realizes he’s able to exploit for profit.

When he’d heard about the events at the skate shop, he wasn’t happy about Reiss’ death. I mean, that part was obvious. With him gone, I figured the debt wouldn’t get paid. However, Adiv and I explained what happened, told him how shit spiraled out of control until it became either Adiv or Reiss.

Though Cain seemed to be irritated that Reiss would attempt to kill one of his men, he also seemed annoyed at the loss of Reiss, and skeptical of the events. I reckon he had Leo look into the camera footage inside the store, because eventually he came around.

Although Adiv and I never ratted out Kash—we knew Cain would see it on the CCTV footage—I’m positive Cain saw Kash’s behaviour that day. Adiv said he’d heard whispers of a rumour that Cain had spoken to Kash about it, but we honestly can’t be absolutely sure it happened. I sincerely hope it did, because he was a fucking mess and made shit worse than it needed to be, but I understand that those sorts of rules aren’t always black and white in this world.

Adiv told me that Cain found a way to get the debt paid anyways. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I imagine he’s either having Brady pay, or perhaps Reiss had some family that is now indebted to Cain Brooks.

If it’s the latter, I pray for them.

It wasn’t long after Cain knew the full truth of that days events, that he pulled me into his office. He spoke about how he was impressed with how I’d fought off Reiss. He thought I handled myself well, but he also slightly scolded me for hesitating to take Reiss’ life.

I explained that the only reason I hesitated was because I knew dead men aren’t able to pay debts—which was a lie, I hesitated because I didn’t want to take another man’s life—and it seemed to help calm him the tiniest bit. At least, I hope it did. Cain can be a difficult man to read.

He said when he reviewed the video, he thought that he found another skill of mine he could profit off—fighting. I’d never necessarily thought of myself as a good fighter, but he mentioned an illegal underground ring and that he wanted me to compete.

I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. I’m still not. However, I can’t say no to the man, as much as I’d like to. You don’t deny Don Cain Brooks of whatever he wants.

One day, I’ll be able to reverse that fact.

One day, I’ll end his reign of terror.

He ended our meeting by standing and extending a hand in my direction to shake and it felt awfully a lot like the devil was inviting me to sell my soul.

He gave me a day to train, but I didn’t need it. I’ve boxed on and off as a form of exercise since I was in high school. I’ve always found it to be a great stress reliever. Perhaps because of that fact, I’ll possibly even enjoy this a little.

I’m not keeping my hopes up, though.

Adiv came to get me earlier and now we’re about to head into the place where I’ll be fighting some stranger. As the build up to this night has come, I’ve found myself relieved that this is the job I’m being sent on instead of the skate shop again. At least I won’t have to deal with Kash and his unpredictability tonight.

Stepping inside, I’m a bit shocked to see that it’s a simple tattoo parlour. There isn’t anything out of the ordinary about it. In fact, if I was walking by on the street, I wouldn’t look twice. I mean, I might because I clearly have a tattoo obsession, but it wouldn’t cross my mind that this place was a front for something else.

The man behind the counter greets Adiv. “You’re here for the eight o’clock?” He questions and I find myself imagining that he’s speaking some sort of code. There’s someone else in the shop, so he surely can’t speak openly about the underground fighting happening.

He discreetly grabs a pair of keys. “Follow me, he’s in the back room.” He weaves around a few tables and chairs, pushing aside the curtain and allowing us to step further into the space. He then pulls the curtain back into place carefully, ensuring the customer isn’t paying us any attention.

We follow him to a door at the back, and through it. “Are you finally hopping in the ring tonight, Adiv?”

Looking around the space, we’re obviously in the storage room because it’s filled with various things that the employees must use. I get distracted, studying a few sketches of tattoos littered over a desk before I hear Adiv speak. “Nah, it’s Luca’s turn.” When I spin on my heel to face them at the sound of my name, Adiv is pointing at me while they both stare in my direction.

The shop owner—or employee, whatever he is—is dragging his eyes across my body, as if he’s sizing me up. Like he’s judging the lack of muscle I don’t outwardly have. Like he’s mentally pointing out that my height isn’t tall enough to be threatening in the ring.

A few weeks ago, that look alone might’ve gotten into my head a bit. Now? I don’t really care. I’ve met more intimidating people. Faced them head on and survived.

If there’s one thing I’ve had to learn to adapt to during my undercover work, it’s to put on a façade. You make everyone else think you have it together and it can do wonders. Don’t let them see the nerves. Blend in like a chameleon. It’s been successful for me thus far.