12 Rounds (Knockout 1)

There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think of that day. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t remember hearing the echo of a gunshot and then Aidan telling me my da had to go away before bringing me home.

When Aidan delivered me to the doorstep one thing I’ll never forget is the look on my Ma’s face when Adian whispered something into her ear. She was hurt. She felt betrayed that Da had kept his life in the brotherhood a secret from her. And I’m sure if she knew he was taking me to a sit down she would have intervened somehow. That was one of the downsides of the living in the US when the rest of your family was back in Ireland. My Ma didn’t like daycare and we had a sitter for the nights my parents went out together, but other than that either Ma or Da took turns watching us. Ma had to take Teagan to dance lessons the day Da brought me to the sit down.

Sometimes I ask myself why he brought me in the first place? That’s no place for a small child, then again, he couldn’t leave me in the car. Especially in this part of the city. Or maybe he didn’t intend on staying long. To this day, I wish I knew what his motives were.

As I walk into the empty warehouse, I’m greeted by Murph first with a hard clap on the back. “How was training bro?” His deep, booming voice echoes through the open space as we walk toward an area where there is a half circle of brown metal folding chairs.

“You know,” I say.“Same old. Same old. Shadow boxing. Jumping rope. Running. Sparring.” I glance around the open room. Concrete walls. Concrete floors. I’ve always wondered how many former members of the brotherhood are encasted in the cement walls and floors.

There’s a cluster of men in the right corner of the room and as Murph and I move farther in I hear a plethura of hey’s and what up’s. Kyle Barber, a new recruit like Murph, with chin length dirty blonde hair and a thin stature strolls over to me with a confident swagger and slaps me a high five. “Hey Right Hook,” he pulls me in for a short, half-hug, “how’s that smokin hot sister of yours? You talk to her lately?”

“Barber, you go so much as a hundred feet near my sister and I’ll cut your dick off,” I say with all seriousness.

“Easy man.” He raises his arms and backs up. “I was just bustin your balls.”

There are three kinds of women in a man s life that you never fuck with; His mother. His sister or sisters. Or his girl. Now my Ma has been deceased seven years. God rest her soul. I don’t have a girl and I’m not sure if I ever will so we can cross that off the list. But I do have a sister.

And nobody fucks around with Tee.

Nobody.

Unless they have a death wish.

I’m greeted by the rest of the members of the brotherhood. Mo a guy in his mid 60’s who has been in the Braithreachas since before Connie joined up pats my shoulder before taking a seat. He handles all the finances for tax purposes. Point blank, aside from the drug trafficking, Connie owns a lot of shit. Of course he never fills us in on exactly what he owns, but he never had to specify for me to know he’s loaded.

Next I’m greeted by Big Sam, a bald guy who is about the same height as Murph, but nearly double him in girth. Connie uses him for detailing and security things. If I saw someone Big Sam’s size coming at me, hell I might be a little terrified too. That is if I was lacking a weapon.

Lastly, Papa Jay, the oldest member of the brotherhood, almost seventy, gives me a pat on the back and a heart warming smile. He’s like the grandfather to us all and the brains behind everything. He’s one of the founding members of the Braithreachas.

There are three more newbies lingering on my far right, but I’ve never met them. Since I’ve started boxing my involvement with all things brotherhood have been less frequent. I don’t bother introducing myself to them either. I know from experience that newbies don’t usually last very long in the Braithreachas Don Saol.

My eyes find Papa Jay as he takes a seat across from me. I’ve always wondered why he never took over the reign of the organization after the last leader bit the dust, but I’ve never asked. I’ve been around him since I was a kid and I figured if he ever wanted me to know that bit of information, he’d tell me.

Finally Connie and Aidan emerge from the back room and Connie’s eyes immediately zone in on me. “You’re late, boy-o.”

I stare at the square plate of glass he’s holding for a second then my eyes climb back up to his face. “I couldn’t help it,” I tell him, taking a seat. “I had training and it ran over.”

Connie’s eyes cut into me and narrow for a second. I know this is his way of giving me some kind of warning, so I say nothing in return. “Welcome brothers!” Connie announces, his arms raised, his eyes scanning the room. “Before we get started I’ve got some product for you all to sample. Even better blow than what we’ve been selling on the streets before.” Connie hands the glass with the already cut white lines to Big Sam. Big Sam puts his nose to the white line on the end, inhales deeply then passes the glass over.

The rest of the brothers follow suit and when glass finally reaches me, I pass it along without doing my line. Look, it’s not like I’m staright-laced or anything. Hell, me and Mary Jane danced together in high school.

Almost every day.

But I’ve never been too keen on blow and how it makes you feel. Fuck, I’m high on life. I don’t need the added stimulant.

Connie eyes me warily. “Boy-o, aren’t you going to sample the new product?” If my skin was glass, I swear Connie’s eyes would

cut right through it.

I glance around the group and every one is fucking with their noses, either pinching them or sticking their fingers up their nostrils. A few guys have some white residue on their fingers and rub into their gums. “Nah, Connie.” I wave him off with a simple hand gesture. “I’m good. Joe has really been on my ass lately.” But that’s only part of the truth. The other part is even though I’ve sampled the new product a few times in the past I never really wanted to. At least now I have an excuse as to why I can’t.

Much to my surprise, Connie starts clapping and then he laughs, “That’s right, we wouldn’t want to corrupt The Pride of Cleveland!” The rest of the group joins in with his laughter and I scowl. Even Murph is laughing and when Connie turns his head I elbow the big buffoon in the gut.

What I’d really like to say is go ahead and laugh mother fuckers, but I’m the one who’ll be laughing in the end.

Laughing all the way to the fucking bank.

“Jokes aside,” Connie continues. “We’ve got bigger problems on our hands.” Loud chatter errupts through the room.