I looked back at the guy. “Can I at least get a fresh beer?”
Christ, if a man was going to die, he should have either thick beer or the sweet taste between a woman’s legs on his lips. Right?
~
I sat down and a chair slowly turned. The man in the chair was large. Not muscular large but too many chicken fingers large. That kind of guy. He stunk of enemy, something I never understood when my boss, Fiore, would tell me I stunk of Irish filth. He always did it with a smile though.
This big guy stunk bad and was not smiling.
Neither was I.
“You look familiar,” he said, his accent almost as heavy as him.
“You don’t,” I said.
“Why are you here?”
“Enjoying the action. Isn’t that what we’re all here for?”
“You smashed a glass on one of my associate’s heads.”
“He touched me.”
“You don’t like to be touched?”
“Not by that guy,” I said with a grin.
“What about someone else?” the man said and snapped his fingers.
The door opened behind me and she walked in. She being eyes and tits that had been staring down at me. Christ, she was even more stunning in person. That shirt tugged tight to her tick-tock body. Her dark hair down, her eyes looked at me for a second and then away.
“You want her to touch you?” the man asked.
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Perv,” the woman whispered from the corner of her mouth.
I grinned and watched her strut by me.
“Eyes forward,” the man said.
A hand then touched my head and hair. I started to move my left hand and I was stopped. The man behind the desk took out a gun and waved a finger.
“Don’t move. You’ll be killed.”
I gritted my teeth. “What the fuck do you want?”
“You’re a fighter. You fight with another crew.”
“Maybe.”
“You come here to fight?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I came for a few drinks,” I said. “To watch some fights. To fuck someone in the bathroom. Maybe take a piss.”
The man growled and the room shook. “Who do you fight for?”
“Myself.”
“You’re someone’s toy,” the man said. “Tell me your name.”
“Fuck you.”
The hand on my head squeezed. Pain surged through my skull. My eyes shook for a second.
“Finn,” I said. “My name is Finn. Okay?”
“Who do you fight for?”
“I’m not…”
The hand squeezed again. The hot pain shot down to my neck. But I held it off.
“Tough guy,” the big, smelly guy behind the desk said. He then stood up. He pointed the gun at the woman next to him. Pressing the gun right to her neck. “I’ll kill her.”
The pain grew and grew. I was used to pain though. I knew how to navigate the waters of pain. The only thing that would take me down is my body’s natural reaction to it. A human could only take so much before his body breaks down. My mind could take anything.
I sucked in a breath and stayed with the throbbing waves.
I looked at the big guy. I looked at the woman. Her eyes were wide. She stared at me, wanting me to be her savior.
“Do it,” I said. “Kill her.”
4.
(Shayna)
Are you fucking kidding me?
The gun jammed against my neck. I wanted to swing at Zander. But if I did, he would shoot me, his guys would shoot me, and I’d be dead.
Then I’d never find my sister…
If things couldn’t get any worse, the guy - Finn - sat there and said, “Do it. Kill her.”
Oh, not to mention Vale had his bear paw hand on Finn’s head, squeezing it tight. That’s what Vale loved to do. He would squeeze people’s heads until they died. There were times when their eyes would bleed. Their face would turn blood red. Sometimes their skulls would literally crack.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked.
Finn shrugged his shoulders.
Then Finn made his move. He ducked his head down and slid from the chair. He turned and grabbed the chair, lifting it, smacking Vale in the chest. Vale stumbled back and Finn rammed the chair into him, taking him right out of the office.
But Finn was easily outnumbered. Vale may have been out of the picture, but there were two more guys. One grabbed each arm and Finn was back to where he started.
“Not bad,” Zander said. “Now tell me who you fight for.”
“I already said to go fuck yourself,” Finn said.
Zander took the gun from my neck. I thought he was going to kill him. I saw it happening in my mind. Zander filling Finn with bullets. Not that the guy meant anything to me. He was cocky, arrogant, acting like he didn’t give a damn… did he not realize the power in front of him? Zander’s ties went deep. Deeper than I ever imagined which was why I was completely trapped. That’s why I wore the shirt I wore, the jeans I wore, looked the way I did, knowing guys were eye humping me. Because it kept me alive, for now.
As Zander lifted the gun, I saw a quick flash of hesitation on Finn’s face.
For some reason, it connected with me. Next thing I knew, my hand shot out and grabbed Zander’s fat wrist.
“The fuck?” he asked, looking at me.
“Make him fight,” I said, trying to be cold.