21- Fuckery and Bad Kids

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" Don't make that face you look like Nick"

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" Don't make that face you look like Nick"

Bodhi laughed loudly as my gaze lifted from my sub sandwich. With my mouth full of delicious meaty, savory flavors. I met Henry's smug expression as the bruised corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. In the few weeks I suffered living with Henry his personality didn't seem to waiver from his sarcastic comments and smug expressions. After what happened with Lonnie Gambini he was currently going through waves of normality and waves of something in between shock and anxiety attacks. The first week the guy wouldn't talk and I couldn't be sure if he slept but he rarely left his room. Even pushing Dad to the point of breaking down his door and shoving food into Henry's mouth causing him to heave nothing but stomach acid. I understood where he was coming from, I was in worse shape when I killed a man at age 12. After the week passed it was almost like it never happened. Henry was still going through the motions of catching his first body, disrespecting a corpse.

But now I know exactly what it means to be a Lombardi.

I didn't hate it, I loved that shit. Especially now not only did the words ' Nicholas Lombardi's son' hush a room full of people. But my own name Nico Lombardi, was now making people change the way they looked at me. The way they spoke to me...

" Why do you call him Nick, shouldn't you be calling him daddy?" Bodhi taunted with a grin causing a forced smile to form on my face while Henry's smug expression fell. He scowled like a foul smell violated his nostrils.

"That fucker is not my dad-"

"You came from his nuts-"

"He's not my dad. He didn't fuckin raise me and he wasn't there for shit-"

Swallowing the delicious bite I held Henry's gaze as my jaw clenched. Dad wasn't a good man but he didn't act like he was, he wasn't fake. He was admirable in his own way and I knew of the sacrifices he made, not just for me but for Julian and Henry too. We were his son's and if his ex wife would have let him be a part of their lives he would have done anything he could to be there as much as he could. He wasn't winning any father of the year awards but his parenting is what made me into who I am. Nineteen years old and I had more respect than men in their thirties. I had a fearsome reputation, my crew did as well. Whereas Henry and Julian had no reputation, they were nobody's.

If anything they were a disgrace to the Lombardi name.

"Your bat shit crazy Mama wouldn't let him be a part of your life even if he wanted to be"

"My mama saved us and I'm glad she did or else I'd be as fucked up as you" Henry spat

My hands tingled as anger flooded through my veins, every fiber in my body urged me to do it and I began to see red. But I resisted the urge to jump across the short table and leave a permanent imprint of my knuckles against Henry's skull.

"Holy shit, Nico?" A deep voice pounded against my ears.

As Bodhi nudged me I dragged my eyes away from Henry and towards the walk path that separated the rickety tables from the beat up booths. There were four guys heading my way. Two of whom I knew were Jack Gambini and Hassan Anashe but the other two were only vaguely familiar. My eyes squinted as I raked my brain for a memory or a name when it suddenly struck me. My anger dissolved as a wide smile came over my face. Karee Anashe and Carlo Tendai worked under the Gambini's and were the most lethal hitters I ever had the privilege of witnessing them in action. Their skills didn't come from training in secret or in some gym but from experience. Fighting in the streets just to survive had turned them into beasts. I first met Karee when my dad took me to his bare knuckle fight club when I was fourteen. He wanted me to learn how to fight a real opponent, I'd had already fired a wide variety of guns and my aim wasn't an issue. But hand to hand combat was still something I had to master. I had plenty of sparring matches with Bodhi. Plenty of training with professional fighters but a stranger wouldn't hold back like my friend would. Bare knuckle fights are the most brutal, the most unforgiving kind of fighting. The only person even remotely close to my age and weight at the time was Karee Anashe.
He had just turned fifteen making him only a year older but already had a reputation for himself, we fought and it was the first time someone who wasn't my dad handed my ass to me.

(Ghidorah) -Book 3 Of DyvercityWhere stories live. Discover now