Trainer (DS Fight Club Book 2) Page 2

  Colin began to recount exactly why Paddy thought this was a good idea. As he talked, Junior felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He ignored it.

  After the phone buzzed several more times, Colin rolled his eyes and asked impatiently, “You need to get that?”

  “Nah. Probably a wrong number,” Junior said with a dismissive shake of his head, but when the phone actually rang with his eldest sister’s ringtone, Junior frowned and quickly answered it.

  “Marta, what’s up? Did you text me earlier?”

  As his sister began to babble at him, Junior held up a finger to Colin and stepped outside his office.

  When Junior returned, looking rattled, he merely said, “C, I gotta go now. I’ll call you when I get to Newark, but right now, I gotta go.”

  Colin stood up, his face concerned. “Junior, what’s going on?”

  “It’s Nanda. She’s gotten herself into something bad, and I gotta go up.”

  Colin snorted. “I thought you said you weren’t going to swoop in and rescue her again after that last little incident.”

  “Normally I would say the same thing, Gordo, but this is different. Marta insisted that I come up, so you know this shit is bad.” Junior shook his head. “I gotta go,” he said with a shrug.

  “Shit, you need to take the plane?”

  “No, by the time you get shit arranged and flight plans and all that, I can be a quarter of the way there. I’ll call you tonight. Give Tig and Charlotte my regrets about bailing.”

  “Dude, come on. They’ll completely understand.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Junior got ready to leave, but Colin grabbed him in a one-armed hug.

  “Be careful going up there, okay? It won’t do anyone any good if you get hurt as well.”

  Junior huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be careful. Talk to you soon.”

  “Be safe, buddy.”

  “Always am.”

  Junior trotted out of the gym, thankful that he kept two changes of clothes in his car at all times and had gassed his car up the night before.

  Chapter Two

  Newark, New Jersey

  Junior texted Colin, knowing that the big fighter would be waiting up to hear from him despite having a five o’clock session the next morning.

  Junior got out of the car, stretching and popping his back, trying to relieve some of the tension that had been accumulating on the twelve-hour drive from Atlanta to Newark. He took a deep breath, knowing that he was most likely going to need every ounce of his patience to keep his cool to get through his youngest sister’s latest escapade.

  Fernanda was his baby sister, the youngest of the four Maldonado siblings and an unexpected change-of-life baby, who was just short of three when Hector Senior was killed in a workplace accident and in her early twenties when she lost her mother. Life had not been easy, and Nanda and Junior were more alike than not in temperament, which led to both more understanding and more arguments.

  Marta’s house, formerly Junior’s mother’s house, was lit up like it was early evening even though it was almost midnight. Junior stepped through the door, and a flood of memories swept over him at the sight of his sister in the kitchen and as the familiar smells of cooking food filled his nose.

  Marta came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel that dangled from the pocket of her jeans. “Junior? Is that you?”

  Junior shook his head. “You look just like Ma. Damn, Marta. If I didn’t know better, I would swear it was her standing in that kitchen.”

  Junior’s eldest sister’s face softened at her huge brother’s obvious emotion. “Oh, Junior . . .” She sighed and reached up to touch his face, catching the tear that escaped one of his dark blue eyes. “You hungry? You get anything to eat at all on the way up here?”

  “I grabbed some protein bars on the way out of the gym,” Junior said with a cringe.

  “Junior, shame on you. You go get washed up, and we’ll get some food in your belly. And then we’ll talk about Nanda.”

  Junior balked, but Marta was having none of his arguments. “Junior, believe me, you’re going to need to listen to this on a full stomach.”

  Two servings of cocido and a strong coffee later, Junior leaned back in his chair and cocked his head at his sister. “Okay, Martita, spill it. What’s she done now?”

  “Believe it or not, she didn’t do a thing—”

  “I was going to add, ‘What hasn’t she done,’ since it seems like that’s what gets her in more trouble,” Junior interrupted, thinking about unpaid parking tickets and final exams, things left incomplete that cost Nanda and his sisters, and even him, time, money, and heartbreak time and time again.

  “Junior, before I go into details, you have to promise that you’re not going to go do anything crazy, okay? Promise me.”

  Junior slowly nodded.

  “Nanda’s in the hospital, Hermano,” Marta said quietly.

  “What?”

  Marta recounted what she knew: neighbors reported a domestic disturbance between Nanda and her longtime on-and-off-again boyfriend, Gene, and when the police arrived at the apartment building, they found Nanda at the bottom of the stairs in a heap.

  When Marta and Ines, the middle Maldonado sister, arrived at the hospital, Nanda had a broken collar bone and some broken ribs, along with a battered face and a bad concussion.

  Marta watched Junior clench his fists and his jaw, the small vein in his left temple twitching wildly as he tried to calm down.

  “Where is this fuck now?” Junior’s voice was whisper-quiet and full of promised violence. “He better fucking pray that he’s behind bars.”

  “And what are you gonna do, Junior? Beat up the guy that beat up your sister? Don’t you think that’s a little ironic?”

  “Like begets like, Marta. An eye for an eye and all that shit—a beat-down for a beat-down.” He ground his teeth together. “Marta, where is Gene?” Junior asked again.

  “Not that I would tell you if I knew, but he’s disappeared. No one knows.”

  “You lying to me, Big Sister? Hmm?”

  “Junior, I don’t know where he is. I swear.” The two siblings stared at each other for a long moment, and then Junior acquiesced with a nod and a noisy exhalation.

  “So, what’s next? Where is Ines in all this? She at the hospital?”

  “Yes, Junior, she’s at the hospital. We’ve been taking turns—”

  “Taking turns? How long has Nanda been there?”

  Marta squirmed. “She . . . had some complications and—”

  “How. Fucking. Long. Marta?”

  “Three days. The doctor suggested we call you, you know, just in case.”

  “So, this fuck almost killed her?”

  Marta swallowed hard. “Yes,” she whispered. “Junior, it’s so bad.”

  Junior squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in and out. “Anything else, Marta? I swear to God . . .”

  “No, that’s all. And this is all on me, Junior. Ines wanted to call you first thing, and I wanted to see . . .” She shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, I’m here now, Marta.” He inhaled deeply. “Anything else I should know, hmm?”

  Marta shook her head. “She’d been doing so well, too. She wasn’t letting any of those girlfriends of hers drag her into their goddamn drama, she’d just gotten a raise at work, even her and Gene’s relationship seemed to be settling.”

  “Back the fuck up—Manny gave her a raise? She must be doing wonders at the gym, because De La Garza’s the cheapest bastard I’ve ever met.”

  “You know it,” Marta said with a laugh. “Little Beto’s been training over at De La Garza Fight Club, you know.”

  “What the actual fuck? Little Beto? Fighting?”

  Marta chuckled. “Yep. He’s doing well, too. Won a few fights on his amateur circuit.”

  Junior was agog at his mild-mannered nephew fighting with any sort of seriousness. “What’s his weight class? Flyweight?”

  Marta laughed.
“No, he’s not that small anymore. He’s a bantamweight, but his coach is encouraging him to move up to featherweight.” Marta shook her head. “All you fighters. What am I gonna do with you?”

  “Same thing you’ve been doing all these years, Martita: take care of us, kick our asses when we need it, and have lots of bandages and hooch on hand.”

  Marta laughed again. “I can do all that, but who’s the hooch for, you or me?”

  “Definitely you, Hermana, definitely you.”

  “Okay, you big oaf, you need to go to bed and rest up for the hospital visit tomorrow. We didn’t tell Nanda that you were coming.”

  “Oh, God . . .”

  “Yeah, I know.” Marta blew out a breath. “But that’s for tomorrow. You can sleep in Little Beto’s old room. He never spends the night unless he’s doing laundry, and he did nine loads the day before last. I’m not expecting him again until Sunday supper.”

  After Junior was showered and settled in his nephew’s room, he lay there in the dark, his mind swirling about Fernanda’s situation until he fell into a restless sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Man, I hate hospitals.

  Junior and Marta walked through the halls of the hospital toward Nanda’s room. When they got to the room, Marta laid her hand on Junior’s chest.

  “I’m warning you, Junior, she looks bad.”

  Junior nodded, and Marta pushed into the room to find an empty bed and Ines sitting in the chair, looking at a magazine. She looked up and a smile lit up her face.

  “Junior! You’re here!” Ines sprang from the chair and ran to her brother. “Oh, we’re so glad you’re here.”

  Junior squeezed Ines. “I’ll not say that I’m happy to be here, but I am—you know what I mean.” He looked at the empty bed. “Where’s Nanda?”

  “Oh, they, uh, wanted to get another X-ray now that the swelling’s gone down some.”

  “Swelling where?” Ines cut her eyes to Marta and then back to Junior, and Junior repeated his question. “Swelling where?”

  “Her throat.”

  Junior glared at his eldest sister. “I asked you if there was anything else.”

  “I told you that it was bad.”

  “Dios.” Junior sucked in a calming breath and blew the air out through his mouth. “He tried to strangle her.”

  “Yeah. That’s what it looks like. She hasn’t exactly said anything . . .”

  “Why not? Because she can’t fucking talk because he almost crushed her throat? Is that fucking it?”

  “Junior, lower your voice, please. I don’t want them to kick you out.”

  He turned his back on the women to try to pull himself together. “I swear to God, he better hope the cops find his sorry ass first.”

  The door opened, and a nurse assistant wheeled a sleeping Nanda back into the room. A nurse followed close behind and reattached all the monitoring equipment before nodding to Junior and Ines and then turning to speak to Marta. “The doctor is making rounds in a few hours, and the X-ray results should be ready by that point.”

  Marta murmured her thanks, and the nurse left.

  “Ines, you and Marta go home. I’ll stay with Nanda, okay? You need to rest up. I know both of you are exhausted.”

  “Junior, you just drove twelve hours up here—” Marta began.

  “And one of you has been at her bedside for the past three days. Go. I’m fine. I still have my Ranger body clock. Go.” Junior settled into the bedside chair and waved his hands at his sisters. “Shoo.”

  “ ‘Shoo’? What the fuck, Junior? You’ve been down there too long,” Ines said with a little laugh.

  Junior huffed a laugh but settled deeper into the chair and took Nanda’s hand in his, dismissing his sisters.

  Junior was dreaming about Ryan lying in his bed and smiling up at him. But when Dream Ryan opened his mouth, instead of his rumbly southern drawl, a woman’s voice came out. “Junior? What the fuck are you doing here?”

  What the hell?

  He awoke with a start, and the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Nanda’s small, bruised face, screwed up in a confused frown.

  “Nanda, hey. You’re awake. You’re talking. Man, I am so fucking glad to hear your voice, Sis.” He kissed her hand and expelled a ragged breath.

  She offered a weak smile. “Hey, Junior.” She swallowed, wincing. “When did you get here?”

  “Last night, late.” Nanda coughed and winced again. Junior offered her a cup of water with a straw, and she accepted it gladly. “So, want to tell me what happened?”

  “Didn’t Marta tell you?”

  “I’d like to hear it from you, if you’re up to it.”

  “Gene came over. I thought he was high because he was acting all crazy, all paranoid. So I kicked him out. Maybe ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I figured he was coming to grovel. For a long time, I wouldn’t open the door, but he just kept banging and banging. I was just going to open the door to tell him to fuck off.” Nanda whispered, her voice raspier than her usual husky alto. She didn’t cry, but her lip wobbled a bit.

  She blew out a breath and wiggled her head, and Junior got a glimpse of her neck. He tried to keep his reaction to himself, but failed.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Nanda.” He touched the deep scabbing on her neck. “My poor baby sister.”

  “Nah, I’m okay.”

  “I see you wanted to look more like your big brother, huh? When did you do this?” he said as he pushed the bangs of her short pixie cut off her face.

  Nanda grinned. “I cut it off a few months ago in a fit, and decided I liked it. It’s easy to keep.”

  “Do I wanna know?”

  “I just needed . . . a change, you know?” She shrugged a shoulder.

  “Yeah, I get it.” He searched her face with his eyes, hoping to discover the real truth. “Anything else? You sure that’s the entirety of what happened?”

  Nanda shook her head, and then nodded, and then looked like she was getting ready to cry. Junior waited for the tears, but they never came.

  “God, I’m so fucking tired, Junior. Of everything. Of every fucking thing in my life.”

  Junior squeezed her hand in his but didn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue. But when her breathing deepened and slowed, Junior realized that she had fallen asleep and that he was going to have to wait for Nanda to tell him what really happened that night.

  Chapter Four

  Junior spent the majority of the next three days at the hospital until Marta kicked him out of Nanda’s hospital room, telling him to go somewhere and blow off some steam. He didn’t know what exactly she had in mind, but the thought of punching things brought a smile to his face, so he headed to the De La Garza Fight Club.

  Junior had to laugh when he stepped into the gym mid morning. It hadn’t changed much in the thirty years since he started working with the owner, Manny De La Garza. De La Garza had been friends with Hector Senior and took his only son under his wing shortly after the elder Maldonado died, teaching him to box and keeping him out of trouble when so many of his friends turned to gangs and drugs. He’d also been the first to welcome Junior back to civilian life after his medical discharge from the Army, and Junior was very aware that he owed the man his life.

  He remembered that fateful day like it was yesterday. Junior and Nanda had been arguing, as usual, but unusually, their mother had shrieked at them and stormed out of the house. Fifteen minutes later, Manny had shown up, told Junior to grab his jock and get his ass in the car, and then challenged Nanda to have a full dinner prepared and waiting for her mother when she got home. They were both shocked enough to not ask any questions, to just do as they were told.

  Manny worked to get Junior back in a decent headspace, and he put Fernanda to work. Whatever the gym needed, she did, whether she liked it or not. A tough but fair boss, Manny also paid for her to take some basic bookkeeping classes and put her in charge of ordering supplies and scheduling classes, bo
osting Nanda’s self-esteem and allowing her something to be proud of. Her personal life was still a mess, with troublemaker girlfriends who were one DUI away from doing hard time, and a string of loser boyfriends who were not much better, but when she got to the gym, she commanded respect and gained some confidence.

  “Oh, ho, ho—look who the cat dragged in!” Manny slapped Junior on the back and grabbed him in a bear hug. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to make it here.”

  Junior returned his backslap. “Yeah, I’ve been at the hospital the past few days, giving Ines and Marta a break.”

  Manny’s bright smile faded. “How is she, hmm? I could kick myself for not driving her home that night.”

  “Manny, what the hell is going on? Nanda’s being . . . Nanda, and Ines and Marta aren’t being much better.”

  “Come into the office, and I’ll tell you what I know, Junior. I’m sure it’s not the whole story, but hopefully, it will help.”

  They walked through the gym, Manny acknowledging fighters along the way, and Junior nodded when introduced. They settled in Manny’s office, a disaster as usual, and Manny grabbed two coffee cups from the shelf.

  “Oh, no, thanks, Manny. I had coffee earlier.”

  “Who said it’s coffee, mano?” Manny said as he pulled a bottle from his bottom drawer. “I don’t care if it’s before noon, you’re probably gonna need this.”

  He poured two fingers of the brown liquor in each cup and shoved one at Junior.

  Junior started out with a question. “What do you know about this idiot that Nanda’s tangled up with?”

  Manny scrubbed his face. “Oh, man. Fuckin’ Gino. I’ll tell you, I don’t like the guy at all, but I never thought he’d do anything like this. I figured that, if anything, it would be Nanda that would be charged with battery.” Junior snorted. “You know she’s got a temper, kind of like someone else I know.”

  Junior rolled his eyes. “Tell me more about this Gino.”

  “You know him, Junior. Gino Patillo.”

  “Gino Patillo? I . . . you don’t mean Eugene Patillo?”