Prologue (Jackson)
Pain. It hurts us. It pushes us. It punishes us.
Or, for the few poor souls out there like me...it defines us.
I'm not a good person.
There are no redeeming qualities about me...not anymore.
Any that I had, I'd given to the devil on the night that changed everything.
The night my baby sister died.
The night I murdered her killer.
Yes, I've taken a life...and I would do it again in a heartbeat.
I grew up in Boston. For the most part, I was just an average hard working kid trying to make it into the professional world of MMA fighting.
My mom kicked the bucket when I was 18 from a heroin overdose, and if you know where my father is...well then, give that asshole sperm donor a big 'fuck you' for me.
It's safe to say that Lilly was the only family I had.
She was four years younger than me, and I spent most of my life either looking out for her or bitching about how annoying she was.
After our mom died, it was just her and I.
Who am I kidding...it was her and I since day one.
My mother's death changed nothing. In fact, Lilly's high school didn't even question when I was the one who stepped up and filled in for all the parental duties.
Here's where I fucked up.
I let my best friend date my little sister.
Mike was training to become a professional MMA fighter as well. We all grew up together, and one day, I caught him making eyes at Lilly...or rather, her making eyes at him.
Obviously, I put an end to that shit as soon as it started.
When she was 14.
The next four years were filled with them making constant googly eyes at one another, but other than that- we were like the three musketeers.
Lilly would even watch us train...she was like our own personal cheerleader.
I'd see her innocent blue eyes and strawberry blonde curls routing for us at every single session.
On her 18 birthday...I caved.
"I'm in love with your sister and I swear to god, I'm going to marry her one day," Mike said as I choked on my beer.
Before I even had time to knock him out or protest...Lilly's 5'1, lanky frame bounced into the room and landed beside Mike.
She grabbed his hand and looked up at me. "I love him, Jackson."
I grunted and downed the rest of my beer before I reached over and grabbed Mike by his shoulders. "Outside...now."
He let go of Lilly's hand and followed me out to the porch.
The old wooden swing seat creaked under our weight when we sat down. "You're 22...she's 18."
He laughed. "I know. But it's really not that much of an age difference anymore, especially now that she's legal.” He looked down at his feet. “Besides, I've loved her since she was 14."
My stomach knotted and I balled my fists. "That's disgusting."
He rolled his eyes. "Obviously, I didn't do anything about it, asshole,” he said. “It’s not like that. It’s more than sex."
My entire body tensed at those words and I stood up.
I was about two seconds away from knocking his lights out when he shouted, "Which we still haven't had, I swear!"
We both breathed a sigh of relief then. "Look, I know I'm going to spend the rest of my life with her. Now the only question is whether you're going to be happy and support us, or if it's going to come to blows and we're going to ruin a friendship over it. Not to mention, possibly ruining your relationship with your sister."
I shook my head. "You're a fucking prick."
He gave me a wry smile. "No, I'm not, Jackson. If I was, you would have knocked my ass out already. You know I'm a good guy. You know I'll take care of her. I'm your best friend for crying out loud."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "You hurt her, I'll kill you. You knock her up before she's 30, I'll kill you. If you cheat on her, I'll kill you. If you ever make her cry...I'll kill you."
He looked me in the eyes. "If I ever do any of those things; then, I wouldn't want to live anyway." He paused. "So, does this mean we have your blessing?"I halfheartedly gave a nod as I heard Lilly come bouncing out the front door.
Her smile was infectious and her eyes were gleaming.
She wrapped her arms around me tighter than she ever had before.
"I love you, big brother...this is the best birthday ever!"
I sighed and returned her hug.
***
For two years Mike kept his promise.
He treated her like gold and I'd never seen Lilly happier.
Both Mike and I continued to train hard, trying to make it big in the MMA world.
We trained at one of the best gyms and had a coach who swore our big break was right around the corner.
He was right.
Mike was closing in on a deal with a big time sponsor, and I was about to sign a pretty big endorsement deal with a sponsor myself.
My first professional fight was scheduled for one week away.
At almost 24, my dreams were finally coming true.
I was so wrapped up in my own world...I never noticed the signs.
I never noticed when my sister’s innocent blue eyes lost their sparkle.
I never noticed when her bubbly personality changed.
I almost didn't notice when she stopped showing up to watch us train.
"What's up with my sister? I haven't talked to her in like two weeks. She hasn't shown up here lately...why is that?" I asked Mike as we headed to the locker room after a training session.
Mike shrugged. "I don't know, she's been studying really hard. I think she wanted to go shopping today. She said something about wanting to get a new outfit for the big fight next week."
I laughed. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Her boyfriend and big brother are having their first professional fight on the very same night."
I knew that no matter how hard Lilly's intense course load at Harvard was, she wouldn't miss the fight for the world.
He looked down and I watched as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Yeah..."
Something was off. I put my hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"
He shrugged me off and walked toward the showers. "Just a little nervous is all," he called out.
I finished showering before he did.
I walked over to our lockers and proceeded to get dressed. He stupidly left his locker half open...and that's when I noticed it.
A tiny bottle of something that wasn't labeled...along with a needle.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what it was.
Steroids.
I swiped it from his locker and waited for him to come out. "What the fuck are you doing, Mike? Are you trying to ruin your career before it even starts?" I screamed.
He looked around the locker room. "Keep your fucking voice down. What if coach hears you?" he hissed as he reached for the bottle.
I pulled back. "Over my dead body. No way am I letting you ruin everything you've worked so hard for. What the fuck is the matter with you? I never thought you would do something like this!"
He punched the locker beside him. "Everybody in the sports industry uses, Jackson. I'm going to stop after I win the next few fights...it's just enough to put me on the map."
"You're an idiot. You're about to sign a deal with a big sponsor! You don't think they're going to test you for roids? Even more than that, you're ruining the integrity of the sport. All sports. Passion is what should be flowing through your body...not this shit."
"Look, some of us don't have it like you do. Some of us need a little help from time to time. And I’m not the only athlete to ever try it, most have. It’s just a little pick me up."
I shook my head and glared at him. "This isn't a 'pick me up', this shit will send you straight to hell in a hand-basket. Train better, work harder...don't do this shit."
He sighed and slumped down on the bench. "You're right. I fucked up, I've just been so nervous and I'm second guessing myself. I don't want to lose."
I sat down next to him. "I understand. What makes you think I'm not feeling the same way? This is a huge deal for us, and it's normal to be nervous. Use that nervous energy as positive fuel. This shit will ruin your life."
He nodded. "Don't tell Lilly about this, please."
"I won't. Besides, if she knew, the fight next week would be the least of your worries. I'm pretty sure she'd kick your ass so bad you wouldn't be able to train for weeks."
He grinned and began changing into his street clothes. "Yup, you're right about that. God, I love that woman."
***
Blood.
So much blood. Everywhere.
That's one of the things that I remember most about that fateful night.
To this day, I can still close my eyes and recall every single surface marked by blood. The metallic smell of it permeating my nostrils, the way it smeared the walls, the way it pooled on the floor—the large bloody hand print on the wall.
The night my entire world changed, was also the night of the big fight.
I had won. It was a close match and I was definitely swinging for the fences like my life depended on it. My opponent ended up tapping out after a hard uppercut to his jaw that sent him staggering, followed by an axe kick which finished him off.
I looked out into the crowd expecting to see Lilly's smiling face...but I didn't.
Even more alarming...Mike never showed up for his own fight.
Some guy named Tyrone ended up taking his place and won after 3 minutes of conducting an intense ground and pound on his opponent that was brutal enough to make me wince.
Something was definitely wrong...I felt it in my bones. I hightailed it out of the arena while dialing their numbers repeatedly.
I hopped in my truck and headed straight for their apartment.
When I walked in I had to take a step back.
My worst nightmare couldn't have conjured up what was waiting for me on the other side of the door.
Everything seemed to play out in slow motion while I tried to take in and process what I was seeing.
The first thing I noticed was the large bloody hand print against the stark white wall of their small kitchen. My eyes dropped down and my heart squeezed for dear life when I saw the large pool of blood on the floor. It expanded and rounded a corner leading up to the living room.
I didn't want to know where it was coming from...but I knew I had no choice but to find out.
I closed my eyes and took a few tentative steps forward until I rounded the corner.
There on the floor beside the couch...was where my heart turned into dust and my world as I knew it, would cease to exist.
My small, fragile, baby sister's pale, cold, lifeless body was laid out before me.
Her shirt was torn and bruises covered most of her limp, frail, body.
The image still haunts me in my darkest moments.
I dropped down beside her and willed her to wake up.
How could someone do this to her? My innocent baby sister. The greatest person I'd ever known.
I shook her, I shouted her name. I begged and I pleaded harder than I ever had in my life.
“Who would do this to you, Lilly?” I whispered, as I held her. “Come on baby sis, wake up. Please,” I continued to beg as I felt the first few tears start rolling down.
My thoughts went wild. I thought up dozens of different scenarios in that moment. Everything from a burglar, a secret stalker at the college she attended, to a drug dealer who had the wrong house looking for his money.
Mike. Where the hell was he?
Shit, maybe whoever did this was holding Mike hostage somewhere?
I looked back down at Lilly and my chest felt like it caved in. Something deep within me had severed in that moment. Nothing would ever be the same again.
I looked up to the ceiling and screamed with tears streaming down my face.
I heard some kind of rustling in the distance, near the bedroom down the hallway before a tall shadow loomed before me.
I knew that shadow well. Almost as well as I knew my own.
I gently let go of Lilly's body and rose from the ground.
He had the makings of what looked like was going to be a black eye. He also had a fairly large scratch across his cheek.
I quickly looked down at Lilly's pink nails and noticed some dried blood caked under them.
She fought like hell.
I lifted my head and glared at him. I looked him right in the eyes...and I knew.
He did this.
He killed her.
He murdered my baby sister...the girl he swore he would love and protect.
Suddenly everything made sense...like why she never showed up to watch us at practice anymore. Why she seemed so distant. Why she didn't seem as happy anymore when I talked to her.
He was abusing her...and I ignored all the signs.
I didn't protect my sister...the only person in the world that I loved more than anything.
He bowed his head and teetered back as I advanced toward him. He held up his hands. “Just let me explain. It was an accident. It was her fau—”
Rage filled my blood, and it burned through my veins. I punched him hard. Hard enough that I heard the satisfying snap of his jaw dislocating. “Don't you dare try to blame her. Did you give Lilly a chance to talk before you beat the shit out of her and killed her!” I screamed as I punched him again, even harder. This time, sending him to the floor.
He tried to get up but I sent a sharp kick to his ribs. “I told you what I would do to you if you ever hurt her,” I sneered before I picked him up by his hair and bashed his head into the nearest wall.
He tried to fight me off, but he didn't stand a chance in hell.
I punched him again and relished when I saw a few teeth fall out. Blood filled his mouth as I dragged him into the kitchen, purposely knocking his head into every hard surface I could find along the way.
We grappled for a few more minutes before I landed on top of him. I continued to punch him letting my rage take over.
“It was the steroids, Jackson. It turned me into a different person. I don't know who I am anymore. Lilly pissed me off and—” he started to sputter through the blood in his mouth.
The fact that he was even attempting to defend himself and still blame Lilly after what he had done only fueled my anger and pain.
“You're a fucking killer,” I growled before I dealt another blow to his head.
It was something we were going to have in common real soon.
His eyes opened wide. “Stop. You're really gonna kill me, Jackson.”
My fist went flying straight for his chest, effectively silencing him.
His eyes rolled back in his head and a low gurgling sound filled the room.
I reached down and fisted his hair while meeting his stare. “Did you listen when my baby sister begged you to stop?” I questioned before I sent a karate chop straight to his neck.
Adrenaline mixed with guilt, grief and wrath like I'd never felt before coursed through me as I continued to pummel him.
At some point, I saw life leave his traitorous eyes and heard sirens looming in the distance.
***
“His blood was literally found on your hands, Mr. Reid. You don't stand a chance in hell of walking away from this without doing some serious prison time.” My good for nothing attorney informed me.
I glanced down at the cuffs around my wrists. “Did they test his blood for steroids like I told you to have them do?” I asked.
“Yeah. He came back clean.”
Fuck. How was that even possible?
That meant that he was in his right state of mind when he murdered her after all.
Rage bubbled in my chest at the thought.
I leaned back in my chair and sighed. “He killed my baby sister. It was self-defense.”
He matched my sigh. “His attorney is saying otherwise, son.”
“His attorney. What the fuck are you talking about? He's dead- as he should be. Why the fuck does he have an attorney?”
He fixed his tie before he looked at me. “I didn't want to be the one to break it to you, but there's no point in keeping it from you any longer. The big-time sponsor and agent that Mike signed with are going after you, Jackson. Not to mention his very wealthy parents. They're working with the prosecution and blaming it all on you. They're doing everything that they can to protect their brand. And his parents are doing everything they can to protect their family's reputation. They're fighting your story tooth and nail. They're a huge sponsor and combined with Mike's family they have lots of connections and resources. They have the means to take you down.”
He paused and looked down. “And the fact is- there were only three people there that night...and two of them are now dead. It's your word against theirs...and it doesn't look good. Especially because you basically admitted to killing him.”
He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder. “Also, this showed up at my office today. I'm really sorry, Jackson.”
I skimmed the letter and pounded my fist on the table. My own sponsor and agent had officially dropped me.
I would no longer be welcomed in the professional MMA world ever again.
“So what are my options?”
He ran a hand over his bald head. “Well, I talked to the prosecutor. I got Man-one off the table.” He pulled another stack of papers out and moved his glasses up his nose. “The best they will offer you at this point is Manslaughter-two. 15-25 years. However, here's the clincher- if you don't take the deal. Mike's team will be teaming up with the prosecution against you.” He sighed. “I hate to say it—but this is the only shot you've got.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and snorted. “15-25 years, for killing a piece of shit abuser?”
He visibly swallowed. “And Lilly,” he whispered.
I stood up to my full height of 6'3 and got in his face, my shackles straining against me. “What the fuck do you mean and Lilly? I didn't kill my sister!” I screamed.
If I wasn't shackled to the heavy metal desk, I would have beat the crap out of him for spewing some shit like that.
He took a step back. “I told you, Mike's team is working with the prosecution. They're not putting the blame on Mike for this, Jackson. They're twisting some horrid tale about you and your sister being super close after growing up the way you did...if you catch my drift.”
Bile ascended my throat as he continued. “They're going to say that you were jealous of Mike and your sister’s relationship. Combined with the fact that he came from wealth and landed a much better sponsor than you did...it all leads to jealousy being the motive.”
“But, I was at the fight that night. Hell, I won my fight that night. Hundreds of people saw me with their own eyes. Mike and Lilly never even showed up!”
“They're saying that you killed them before the fight because you didn't want him to compete in the first place.” He made air quotes with his hands. “Because your jealousy got the best of you and finally came to a head.”
I threw up my hands. “And then what? I just decided to attend my fight with his blood on my hands and then return to the scene of the crime instead of getting the hell out of dodge? That's insane.”
“According to the prosecution's story, you returned to find a way to get rid of the bodies.”
“This is bullshit.”
“It is,” he agreed.
I shook my head. “I'm not taking that deal. I'll take my chances in court. I didn't kill Lilly. If they were just accusing me of killing Mike, I would consider folding- because I did kill him. But I will not go down for committing the heinous act that he did.”
He rubbed his scalp again and sat back down in the chair. “Look, I've got to level with you. We won't win this.” He motioned toward the papers on the desk. “I'm good at my job. And I fully believe you didn't kill Lilly, even more- I understand what you did to Mike...but I can't win this. The system is corrupt as fuck, and we've got everything going against us right now. You're not walking away from this. The only option left is to plead insanity and spend the rest of your life in a straight jacket and a padded room.”
I got up and motioned for the guard on the opposite side of the door.
“No,” I said gruffly.
***
Ten days before my trial was supposed to begin, I was informed I had a visitor. Since my lawyer had pretty much all but given up on the case, I was a little surprised.
Maybe he had finally come to his senses and decided to fight for me the way he was supposed to.
I looked around the dreary gray room while I took a seat beside the metal desk. My attention soon focused on the sound of the door opening.
In walked a man wearing an impeccable suit, holding a fairly large briefcase.
He tipped his hat at me before he sat down in front of me.
“Who the hell are you?” I asked.
He gave me a smirk and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “I'm your new lawyer,” he said.
I stood up and tilted my head in the direction of the guard, signaling him to let me out so I could go back to my cell. “I think there's been some mistake. I don't recall asking for a new lawyer.” I eyed his expensive suit and snorted. “Besides, I'm positive I can't afford you anyway. I have legal aid for crying out loud.”
“Sit down, Jackson.” His voice boomed throughout the room.
Looking back—I wouldn't say I was scared of him...it was more like intrigued about what he was doing there in the first place.
I begrudgingly sat back down and stared at him. “Okay, let's just cut to the chase then. What's this about? Who are you?”
He cracked his knuckles and leaned back in his seat. “You can just call me your guardian angel, boy,” he said smirking.
I had recently turned 24 at that point, and I was practically on death row for killing a man. I was far from a boy and didn't appreciate being told otherwise.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You have 1 minute before I walk the fuck out of here. I don't give a shit who you are.”
He studied me for a beat before he rubbed his chin and laughed. “Alright. Let's just say that I have a proposition for you.” He cracked his knuckles again. “Something like a get out of jail free card. You interested?'
I raised an eyebrow at him. “From what I'm told...not even God, himself can get me out of this shithole.”
He leaned forward and proceeded to light a cigarette, his eyes gleaming. “No, you're right. God can't...” He flashed me a smile. “But the devil can.”
Chills ran up my spine with those words. “I would ask what the catch is, but I'm not sure I want to know,” I mumbled.
I heard the click of his briefcase and he handed me what looked to be a contract of some sort.
The first thing that stood out was the name.
“Who's Bruno DeLuca? That you?” I questioned.
He laughed. “No, that is not me. However, I work for him. He's the one who sent me here.”
I skimmed the rest of the contract, but I didn't understand it. It just said that I would agree to work for Bruno DeLuca for the next ten years, and failure to uphold my end of the agreement would result in disciplinary action. “What kind of work? And why the fuck would he want me? Who is this guy? And more importantly, what the fuck makes him think he can get me out of serving time for murder?”
He winked and gave me another smirk. “Let's just say that Bruno DeLuca knows a thing or two about murder, kid.”
I stood up. “Okay, I've had it with the games. I have a trial in 10 days that I need to prepare for and I really don't need this bullshit.” I looked at the guard through the plexiglass and signaled for him but he ignored me. I got up and proceeded to bang on the glass when the man's voice halted me.
“Sign that contract and you won't even have to prepare for trial. You'll be out of here within the next 48 hours. You won't go down for your sister’s murder, Jackson. And more importantly, no one will be making disgusting and untrue accusations about your relationship with her in a court of law and tarnishing her memory.”
Needless to say, that got my attention. “What does he want from me?”
“He wants you to do the thing you love the most. Compete and fight.”
I spun around and faced him. “That's not going to happen...I'm pretty sure I've been canned from the professional world of MMA fighting. No sponsors or agents will touch me with a 10-foot pole.”
He barked out a laugh before his expression turned serious. “This isn't professional fighting. This is underground fighting.”
I said the first thing that popped into my head. “That's illegal.”
He blew a puff of smoke out and shrugged. “Last time I checked, so was murder.”
Well, he had me there. Even though I still didn't feel a single ounce of remorse for it.
I sat back down at the table and took a cigarette out of the pack. “Okay, explain to me how he has the means to do this and why he wants me...and I'll consider it.”
He smiled and lit my cigarette. “I realize you're from Boston, kid, but Bruno DeLuca is the biggest mob boss to hit New York City since the five families.”
I took another drag off my cigarette...I definitely needed it.
“And he runs an underground fighting ring?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Amongst other endeavors, yes.”
“And he wants me because...”
“Because you showed real potential before you got locked up. Not to mention, you beat the shit out of and murdered a fellow professional fighter- one who our sources say was even more talented than you.”
“It was only because of the roids he was on,” I muttered.
He waved me off. “Personally, I don't give a shit. The point is that DeLuca wants you, kid. And you're not really in a position to say no to him. You're up shits creek without a paddle.”
At least on that fact, I could wholeheartedly agree with him.
“I just don't get how I would be able to walk out of here, though. Look around, I'm in jail for Christ's sake. I'm pretty sure the judicial system would have something to say about my release.”
He stared at me hard before he rubbed his fingers together. “Money and power, kid. It makes the world go round'.” His expression turned serious. “For starters, he's going to buy off the judge. He's also having evidence planted that will end up proving your innocence as we speak.”
I held up my hands. “Whoa, I'm not okay with having an innocent man go down for murders that he didn't commit.”
“That's not for you to decide, kid. Let's just say that this guy crossed DeLuca, so he's only getting what's coming to him. You just get to reap the benefits.”
I put out my cigarette and went to stand again. “No. I won't do it.”
“You don't really have a choice, Jackson.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“If you don't take the deal and work for DeLuca...you will be attacked in your cell, later on, tonight.” He looked me in the eyes. “And, kid. I gotta tell ya...the odds aren't in your favor in regards to making it out alive.”
I glared at him. Anger pulsing through me. “So, I never had a choice in the first place, did I?”
He shrugged and handed me a pen. “Afraid not, kid. Welcome to the family.”