That motherfucking asshole.
“It will look like he’s running a legitimate business, but in reality, it’s the perfect ruse for his dirty money. No one will know. He will keep her as his partner because she won’t rouse any suspicions with the Feds. The fight is just an excuse for him to proposition her.”
“If the cops find out about the money laundering, she will go down too.” My voice is even, but I’m barely holding on.
“Actually, only she will. He will be a silent partner, and if anything happens, he’ll make sure it’ll all fall back on her.”
The leather creaks beneath me as my body hums with utter rage.
“What’s wrong?” Kong asks suspiciously, mid sip of his beer.
I need to pull my shit together. If I don’t, Lotus will pay. “Nothing. Was just wondering if this owner was single?”
Kong’s face relaxes, and he smirks. That was way too close. I need to get my head, not my heart, in the game.
“Anyway,” he continues, wiping the beer from his lips with the back of his hand. “Boss is going to come watch you fight. He wants to check out the club as well. He can make you a very rich man. All the money and pussy you could ever want is within reach. Trust me. Whatever he offers you, you’d be stupid to say no.”
He looks at me with those dull eyes, expecting me to thank him.
I have a role to play, so I nod. “Thanks for telling me all this. I don’t want to be caught with my dick in my hand when I meet him.”
“No problem, bro. Besides, it’ll be fun to tag team with you. The strippers who work there have major daddy issues and will do anything for a tip.” When he wiggles his eyebrows and slurs, “One chick there, Tigerlily, holy shit, she is a mouthy little bitch who needs some manners fucked into her,” I slam both my fists onto the table, which tips my bottle and spills beer all over the surface.
Kong recoils back so as not to get any on him, but I remain perfectly still.
I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend. I need to kill this varmint like now. But I focus, reminding myself of the bigger picture. Prison rule number two is what gets me by.
“The fuck, man?” he cusses, wiping down his white shirt because a few stray drops have sprayed him.
The couple across from us discreetly give me a sideways glance. I need to calm down. But I can’t. Kong has no right to speak her name. Yes, all I’ve done is hurt her since the moment we met, but she is mine to do with what I please.
Mine? Holy fuck, I have a problem.
But it’s too late. I’ve tried to deny it, and I can’t. I know she hates my fucking guts, yet her hatred only has me wanting her more. I haven’t seen her since she left The Pink Oyster, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about her every single fucking day.
I knew she was dangerous, but this is bordering on being hazardous to my health.
With Kong still looking at me, I clench my jaw and think on my feet. “My ex was a stripper, that’s all. It’s a touchy fucking topic for me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know,” Kong says, appearing to believe my lie.
The waitress quickly wipes up the mess I’ve made and sets down two more beers.
“It’s fine. She fucked all my friends. She said the kid is mine, but who knows.” Shrugging, I reach for my beer and take a much-needed sip. My mouth is suddenly dry, and I realize I’m parched and only one taste will quench my thirst.
“That’s tough. Fucking women,” Kong says with a shake of his head.
This is the in I needed. “I almost fucking…killed one of my friends who was screwing her. I just lost control.”
Kong shrugs. “It happens, man.”
“Has it ever happened to you?” I ask softly, leaning across the table so he can hear me.
He takes his time, but whether savoring the beer or the question, I can’t be too sure. “Yes,” he confesses, so I continue to probe.
“Some chick fucking your friends too?”
Something comes over Kong, as if he’s reliving a memory, and I know which one. “No, not that. Some asshole thought he was better than us.”
“Us?” I question, leveling him with narrowed eyes.
“Yeah. But we taught him a lesson.”
“What did you do?”
This is it; everything comes down to this.
“We fucking killed him,” Kong declares with a snigger. His laughter is at the expense of my brother. This cunt is going to pay.
“Holy shit.” I whistle, leaning back in my seat before I act on instinct and headbutt him. “Why aren’t they fighting for your boss? I’m little league compared to them.”
Kong chuckles as though I’ve just said something funny. “We aren’t the punk ass kids we used to be. My friends are in high places now. They have other people do their dirty work for them.”
“Do you still see them?” I try not to sound too desperate, but this is my shot at finding out who they are.
Kong shakes his head. “No. We’re all busy,” he says promptly, raising red flags. “But that one incident will forever bond us together.”
Hell to the fuck yes, it will.
“Jaws, Hero, Scrooge, and me grew up together. Fucking dirt poor. But we showed all those preppy assholes. We’re the ones laughing now. Well, all but one.”
I clench my fists under the table, not daring to interrupt his trip down memory lane. I need a name. Give me a fucking name. I know who Jaws is. Who is the fucker I killed? I soon find out who.
“Hero is fucking dead. Poor motherfucker. Got shot dead working at 7-Eleven. He was caught up in some gang war. That’s what the word on the street was. But that’s what he gets for turning his back on his brothers.”
Adrenaline is pumping through me, and I am so riled up, I feel like I’m going to explode. Just as I’m about to ask where his friends are now, Kong shakes his head, returning to the present. “Listen to me, holy shit. Talking like a fucking woman. I’ll get us some vodka. I feel like getting fucked up.”
I don’t press because I don’t want to stir any suspicion.
He stands, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. His hand wavers, hinting his story still affects him to this day. It’s the one and only thing we will ever have in common. The falter has his wallet opening, revealing something, which suddenly sets me off balance.
I watch Kong walk to the bar, wallet in hand, the wallet that contains a photo of two small kids who I’m guessing are his. I wonder what their names are and if they’re good kids. Their smiles suggest they’re happy.
Something swarms around me, a gentle buzzing, which will eventually drive me insane if I don’t kill the source. Gripping my thighs, I squeeze hard, refusing to allow this foreign feeling, which one could say was guilt, stand in the way of justice. But that’s ridiculous. I don’t feel guilt. I don’t feel—period.
My vengeance is sure to ruin their lives forever, and bile rises at the thought. But I can’t, I won’t let anyone stand in my way. No matter their happy grins, or the fact I know they exist, the inevitable will happen—I will kill their father.
And no one is going to stop me.
I shouldn’t be here. I also shouldn’t have gotten drunk with the man I’m going to kill in two weeks. But the alcohol helped loosen Kong up, and he spilled the details on when I’ll be fighting at The Pink Oyster. Two weeks, which means he has two weeks to live. And I have two weeks to find out where Jaws and Scrooge are hiding.