Page 70 of Dmitri

“What are you doing here, son?” My dad drops his duffel on the bench and storms over to me with his dark brows digging down. I can’t tell if he’s angry or scared. Maybe both?

“I work here.” The coach here trained my dad, so they can train me, too. All I have to do is show up and do what I’m told, stay respectful, and keep my mouth shut. Easy.

Dad’s voice drops low and he looks pissed. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Two months.”

It’s finally summer, so I’ve been able to juggle my time here and my hours at the coffee shop with no problem. I just haven’t seen my friends as much as I want to.

“This is your kid?” Silas asks from behind me.

Dad gawks, then nods, even though his mouth is in a tight line and eyes are hard as steel. I have my mom’s eyes, but my dad’s coloring. Olive skin, black hair, big build. I can’t wait to pass him in height and muscle mass.

“Well, he’s a helluva scrapper. Makes sense now, seeing that he’s yours.” Silas chuckles, patting my dad on the back before heading over to the two guys warming up in the ring.

I go back to cleaning some of the equipment off.

Dad grabs my shoulder, forcing me to stop working, and regards me with wary eyes. “You’ve been fighting in the ring?”

“Only practicing.” I jerk away from him so I can finish wiping the weight bench down. “Silas is giving me lessons in exchange for me cleaning the place.”

Dad wipes his mouth. “Your mother will have an aneurysm if she finds out you’re here.” When I don’t say a word, he adds, “You really want to be a fighter, huh?”

“I always said so, didn’t I?”

We glare at each other, and I silently dare him to tell me I can’t do it.

“Okay, kiddo.” He squeezes my shoulder, and I don’t even flinch with pain, which is a testament to my tolerance. He’s literally clutching a cut my mother carved into me two days ago. “But we’re going to have to keep this from your mom.”

“No problem.” I’m already keeping what she’s doing a secret from him. It seems fair to balance the scales and keep a secret from her, too.

Even as Dad stares at me with love and respect in his eyes, I want to knock his teeth out. I want to grab him by the throat and scream in his face,See me!How can he be so motherfucking clueless? How can such a smart man be stupid enough to love a monster that abuses their child so badly all the time? Dad spoils her rotten. He lets her get away with disrespecting him. He gives her all the control in the house while he’s the one paying the bills and busting his ass all the time. I don’t get it. For that matter, how the hell is he even here right now when he’s supposed to be working a double shift?

Then I realize the truth.Oh my God.Dad’s been lying to us for forever. He says he’s working until late every day when really, he’shere.

Cold anger pours over my body like a bucket of ice.

I hate him.

And yet… here I am, looking at my father like he’s my idol.

Because he is.

Fuck my life.

Grinding my molars, I let a chilled calmness settle over me and clear my throat. “Silas says I can start in the ring, for real, soon.”

“What? No. You need to train a lot before you go against an opponent.”

I’ve trained my whole life; he just doesn’t realize it. “I’m good, Dad. Real good.”

He grins at me like I’m adorable for saying that. “Good isn’t enough, son. You have to be ruthless.”

That gets my attention.

“If you want to fight like me, like any of us in Silas’s ring, you have to be cold. Cruel.”

I can be cold and cruel. “How?”

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