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Clutching my chest, I sink into a chair out on the balcony, each breath slicing at my insides like the sharpest razor blades. My heart blasts against my rib cage, tears streaking my cheeks.
It’s okay. You’re okay. It was a dream. Just a dream.
Each calming breath is short and shallow. I swipe at my tears with shaky hands, my stomach roiling at the horrific memory.
Then why does it feel like a warning?
Chapter6
Quinn
“Do you know why you’re here, Quinn?”
I glare at Alek Severinov. Condescending prick. His massive desk is the only thing that separates us up here in his private office at the Montepremi Resort and Spa. His younger brother Kazimir, who looks as roided up as Ivan Drago inRocky IV,and his hot-ass cousin, Katarina, stand on either side of him looking at me like they wanna drop me off the side of the roof and onto the Las Vegas Strip below.
It's a long damn way down. Maybe I should play nice for a little while; otherwise, these two crazies will definitely be dangling me over the side by my ankles.
I steeple my fingers and hold them up to my lips. His jaw tenses and I bite back a smirk. He’s famous for pulling the power play moves. But since I’m here in his hotel a week after my attack on the Sinalia Cartel and not buried six feet under somewhere, that tells me I do have some power.
He brought me here for a reason.
Or at least, he agreed to take me in after Patrick ordered me to get the fuck out of Manhattan until shit blows over with the cartel.
“You poked the fucking bear when you took off after El Azul for stealing those sneakers.”
“They weren’t just sneakers. They were retro Pandas, not that I expect you to know much about pop culture with your stick-up-your-ass shoes and clothes.” I drop my hands to the arms of the chair, grip them tight, and pull myself toward the desk. “And more than that, they were a gift from a family member. We take care of our own. That’s what Sportsocity is all about.”
“And what about your real family? Your blood? What about opening them up to these vicious fucks? You’ve got a niece and nephew. You ever pull your head out of your ass long enough to think about the kids?”
“I went down to that park for all of them,” I bellow. “Because I know that unless someone stands up to these guys and shows them how we play, they’ll keep coming and digging their fucking toxic tunnels deeper into everything we wanna protect.”
“You’re a liability for your family and for Red Ladro.” Alek slams his hand on the top of the desk, his blue eyes spitting flames. I sit back in the chair with a loud sigh before they shoot me in the eyes. “Fuck the sneakers. And fuck your ego harder.”
I nod toward Kazimir and Katarina. “They your henchmen? Did you call them in to slit my throat and stuff me in a body bag to bury in the desert?”
“Henchpeople.” Kat flips me off.
I blow her a kiss, knowing it’s gonna get my ass kicked later.
But do I ever learn?
No. It’s why I’m here right now.
“I like and respect Patrick too much to turn down his request for a favor. But in exchange, you’re going to do something for me.”
“Oh yeah? And what if I don’t like the ask?”
Alek reaches into his pocket and pulls out a stainless steel Zippo lighter. He holds it up in front of me, the overhead light catching the side of the metal so that it gleams. I get one long look before he slams it on the desk.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I chuckle. “Spoiler alert, I’ve heard plenty about you and your trusty Zippo. But if you think I’m gonna cry like a bitch if you burn my hand or crotch, forget it. I’ve been through way worse with deeper scars to prove it.”
“Wow, I can’t imagine that anyone would intentionally torture you,” Kat snips, her words dripping with sarcasm.
I wink at her. “Not all torture is about pain, sweetheart.”
She lasers me with a glare. Kaz doesn’t say anything, just palms his Glock 19.
A long minute passes and the three of them exchange a look. I throw my hands into the air. “Okay, fine, I’ll bite. What’s the favor? And how soon can I get down to the craps table? I got a bunch of hundo chips burning a hole in my pocket.”
