The Boy I Used To Know (The Mafia Family #1) [REWRITING]

chapter one

When I was a kid, my parents would always talk to me about fighting. Whether it be physical or verbal, none of it was acceptable. They used to say how fighting was bad and dangerous and can get you into serious trouble, which was why my mom had a rule for zero fighting.

I abided by her rule until she left. I never got into any altercations with others, verbal or physical, always wanting to respect my mom. Even if the other kids would hit me or make fun of me, Gio was always there to stand up for me, but then he left me too. Leaving me to have to defend and fight for myself. I broke my moms rule, but I didn't regret it.

My mom didn't want to leave me, her illness just progressed faster than the treatments could keep up with. Giovanni on the other hand, broke every promise he ever made to me and left on his own accord.

Just thinking of him makes me fight Zach harder and faster. I pour all the endless late nights I spent up crying, all the times I was too mentally and physically exhausted to get out of bed each day, and the resounding amount of trust issues he left behind into my punches.

The world seems to disappear around me as my fists continue to pound into his body until arms are locking around my waist and pulling me out of the ring.

"Evangeline! Snap out of it!" The voice comes out muffled as a blurry form steps in front of me. Hands grasp my face while the blurb continues to talk to me, it's only when I feel an extremely cold sensation rubbing up and down my arms do I come out of the fog I am in.

"Emiliano?" His name is spoken breathlessly as I put all my weight into him as I try to catch my breath. "It happened again." It's a statement that has him and the others nodding in agreement. "I'm so sorry Zach." I look at Zach who is laying on his back in the middle of the fighting ring with guilt.

"Don't sweat it Ang, just wasn't expecting it is all." He slowly turns his head to look at me, giving a brief smile as he slightly winces when he lifts a hand to hold his side.

"How bad is it?" I find myself asking, picking myself off Emiliano and making my way to where Zach is laying.

"Not bad, maybe a couple bruises here and there. Nothing I've never experienced–Ang, I'll be fine."

My hands wound together into fists at my side. These sparring matches with the class attendees aren't supposed to cause any pain. No one is supposed to leave the ring harmed, but because of me two of us are leaving injured.

Today was just supposed to be a demonstration. Zach has been at my classes the longest and is the most skilled out of the rest so he agreed to help me. We were supposed to be showing my other students what sparring is supposed to look like when you are just practicing.

"Doesn't matter, you're still hurt."

"And so are you." He stares at my reddened and slightly bloody knuckles to show he's not the only one who came out of the sparring wounded. "Ang, I'm okay! Something a good night's sleep can fix, trust me."