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Bishop just grinned straight at Mr. Kostova, that crazed glint in his eye he got when he was about to go ahead with one of his really batshit ideas.
“Seems we find ourselves in a real pickle here, gentlemen. See, that’s my lead guitarist you’ve got those peashooters pointed at.”
Mr. Kostova whipped out a giant silver gun with a fat, round bullet cylinder and a long barrel and pointed it right at Cash’s forehead, just inches away. “Not peashooter. I blast hole in his head. What cheaters deserve.”
Oh shit.
FOURTEEN
BISHOP
Oh, my blood was really pumping now.
These tiny men who thought they were so powerful. It was fucking adorable. They thought power was at the end of a barrel. I knew different.
Power was holding a crowd in the palm of your hand, twenty thousand people scream-chanting your name all at once. Power was being able to command the woman you desired—the most stubborn woman on the planet—to her knees. And watching her obey.
So I held up my hands and smiled as I walked right up to Mr. Kostova.
“Real nice place you got here.”
His eyes narrowed in his too-angular face—larger on top and narrowing to a sharp point at his chin.
I wasn’t lying, though. It was a surprisingly nice place. For a mobster’s nest, it really had quite a nice aesthetic. There were several top-of-the-line poker tables. Terra-cotta colored walls and a rug underneath the center table over the painted concrete floor. A pendant light hung over each of the three tables.
“I won fair and square,” Cash said.
Kostova cocked the gun. “Nyet. Impossible.” He slashed the gun across the air.
“It’s a game of luck,” Cash pleaded. “I wasn’t cheating. You had cameras on me. You can check!”
Kostova shoved back from his chair, not loosening his grip on his gun as he stalked around to where Cash sat. Cash shrunk back as Kostova shouted in his face, “You just lucky to win, your fighter? Three to one odds against him? I play to win my money back with honor, you are just lucky to win hand after hand after hand?” Kostova’s voice got louder with each repetition. “Double what you win at the fight? You just that lucky?”
Kostova shoved the barrel right up against Cash’s forehead. “You cheat. Every casino in town blacklist you. I don’t know how, but you cheat!”
I mean, well, the man wasn’t wrong. Cash’s preternatural good luck was a sort of cheating… in a way.
So I spoke up again, addressing Kostova. “How can we clear this up? What will it take to make it up to you? You seem like a reasonable man.” About as reasonable as me before I decked that motherfucker at the arena, but I kept the easy-going grin on my face. Men like this weren’t complicated. I’d known son of a bitches like him my whole life.
“He’ll leave all the money,” I said, gesturing towards the table. Cash made a strangled noise but I talked over him. “Including the winnings from the fight.”
Cash definitely wasn’t happy about that, but he was smart enough to see that his good luck in this moment was me and Luna showing up to save his ass. He didn’t need the money. It was just the addict gambler in him that hated to give up the spoils. Even in this fucking situation.
Kostova stared at me, the barrel of the gun still digging against Cash’s forehead.
For one endless moment.
And then another.
Until his face broke into laughter and he lowered the gun. Around us the room seemed to take a collective breath. A few of the other guns lowered but not many.
“You are famous Americans, yes?” Kostova said.
I nodded, watching him carefully to see where this was going. The fact that he was willing to open up bargaining was a good sign.
The darkness inside me leapt. Who didn’t love a good deal?
Kostova’s eyes searched the room… I turned to look at what he’d zeroed in on. And found he was staring at Luna.
“I think,” Kostova said, a slow smile blooming, “I would like to fuck a famous American rockstar.” He gestured to Luna as he pulled out one of the padded poker chairs and sat down. “Come sit on my lap.”
He started to unbuckle himself and I laughed. It was loud in the otherwise silent room.
“You wish.”
I went on as the color on Kostova’s cheeks started to go mottled. “But I’m a showman, that’s what I do. What we do.” I opened an arm for Luna to come to me and she walked quickly my way, shoulders held high.
I smiled at Kostova as I pulled her to my chest. “How about some live porn instead? In addition to all your money back, want to see some famous Americans fuck, live, in-person, and right in front of you?”
Kostova’s eyes widened, then shot between me and Luna. Then back to me, then to Luna again. Kostova nodded once. “Then I fuck her. But yes. Get me hard with a show.”
