“Tawny!” I exclaim, gently shaking her shoulder. Her body is limp.
She is lying on her side, so I slowly sit her up, supporting her against my chest. “Who did this to you?”
She begins to sob, collapsing into me.
“If you don’t tell me who did this, I can’t help you,” I press, looking down at her dress. It’s still intact. Whoever did this wasn’t after sex. He was after something else.
“You,” she pushes out between pained breaths.
“Me what?” I ask, holding her tightly as her head lolls to the side.
“He was after…you,” she finally reveals. “He a-asked if I knew y-you. I said ye-yes. He said he ha-had a message for you. And t-then he started…hi-hitting me.”
My jaw clenches, and something savage overcomes me. “What message?”
Tawny is crying uncontrollably and rightfully so. But she needs to tell me what this fucker wants. “Tawny,” I implore, shaking her lightly.
Leaning into me, she sniffles, “He said…they’re watching you.”
I have no idea who, but what I do know is that anyone associated with me is in danger. My blood runs cold when I think of Tiger.
I want to ask her so many other questions but getting her to a hospital is more important. “C’mon, Tawny. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
She’s passed out, so I lift her, cradling her to my chest. Taking the back door, I avoid any attention, not wanting word to get out as Lotus doesn’t need any more problems. As I lay Tawny across the back seat of my truck, I wonder how much blood I’ll have to spill to get my revenge.
This was supposed to be simple. But I should know by now, nothing ever is.
Bull
It’s time.
Everything comes down to this.
I haven’t slept. I’m too high-strung. But I don’t need sleep. I just need my brother’s murderer’s dead.
The red roses I laid by Damian’s grave are a peace token. I know if he were alive, he would be begging me not to do this. But he’s not. “I’m sorry, bro.” I don’t even know what I’m seeking absolution for anymore.
Tiger has texted me throughout the week, but I haven’t replied. I can’t. Not after what happened to Tawny. Her messages are enough for me to know she’s okay. For now.
I should have been stronger and remained hidden. Now she’s a fucking target. Anyone who knows me is. Which is why there is no room for error tonight. Once the fight is done, I will torture Kong and get everything I need out of him. He won’t spill easily; therefore, I have to ensure my methods of making him talk are effective.
Once I know where Jaws and Scrooge are, I will keep to the shadows. I’ve decided to quit The Pink Oyster because it’s too dangerous for Lotus if I stay. I’ll send her an anonymous letter, letting her know what Stevie has planned. I don’t want to snitch, but I won’t allow that asshole to use her that way.
As for Tiger…I’m doing what I should have done from the very beginning. I’m leaving her the fuck alone.
The wind howls around me, setting an ominous mood for things to come. But I’m not nervous. I’m calm. Gripping the medallion around my neck, I bid farewell to my brother, ignoring the pang I feel, knowing how disappointed he would be with my decisions.
The drive to The Pink Oyster gives me time to think about the plan I’ve devised. There are three exits in the club, and all will be locked tight. Getting Kong wasted would be the easiest way to subdue him, but I need him clearheaded, so that means I will just have to rough him up…a lot. He can fight, but I’m not a kid anymore.
Clenching the wheel, I peer at myself in the rearview mirror, my matching eyes, eyes so much like my brother’s, staring back at me. It’s go time.
Parking the truck around back, I ensure no one is watching when I thread a thick steel chain around the side and back door handles and padlock them shut. Extra reinforcements are in place. The place is like a fucking ghost town it’s so quiet.
Lotus is staying with her sister in Chicago for the night. I told her not to worry about anything, but I’ll check in to ensure everything is okay. I don’t want her dropping in unannounced.
There’s a sign on the front door indicating that tonight is a private function, so I text Kong that I’m here. He appears a moment later. “Brother,” he says, gripping my hand and pulling me to bump shoulders with him like we’re friends.
“Sup,” I reply, going along with the façade. Not long now. He ushers me inside, before locking the door behind me.
I see that they’ve moved the tables and chairs, clearing the floor. “So this is the shithole,” Kong says, spreading his arms out wide.
I nod, suppressing the urge to rip out his tongue.
“Now, that’s not nice,” says a voice to my left. “You’re insulting my investment.”
Looking over my shoulder, I see Stevie with a smug smile. He walks over to us, offering me his hand. “Tommy. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Stevie.”
Shaking his hand firmly, I nod, keeping talking to a minimum.
“Kong has vouched for you, which doesn’t happen often. I need another man on my team. Interested?”
“Maybe,” I reply. Folding my arms across my chest, I humor him. “What’s in it for me?”
“I like you,” Stevie says between snickering. “A man who knows what he wants. You’re the best damn fighter I’ve seen in a long time. I want you on my payroll permanently. You fight for me, winning me money, and I reward you with all the money, pussy, and drugs you could ever want.”
All but one interests me.
“What sort of drugs?”
“Whatever you want, but my specialty is pure Colombian cocaine. If fighting doesn’t interest you, well, there are plenty of other opportunities for you.”
Stevie’s smirk hints he believes I’m quiet because I’m impressed with him whipping out his dick. I’m not.
“Sure, I’m down.” This will hopefully get Stevie off my case.
“Good choice,” he commends, but the joke’s on him. “This place will be our cover for all the fucking money we’re about to make.”
Stevie is a businessman who is involved in many dealings, it seems. Drugs, illegal fighting, and who the fuck knows what else. He’s the big bad in the underworld. So is Jaws. There must be a connection here. I just don’t know what that is—yet.
“Can’t wait,” I reply. “Where can I warm up?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.” Kong gestures with his head, leading the way toward the dressing room.
Following him, I can’t help but feel like this is a walk on death row. Does he deserve a special request? A last wish before he’s put to death? When memories of what he did to me, to Damian flash before my eyes, I realize this motherfucker’s last wish was living for the past fourteen years.
It’s now that time comes to an end.
When we walk into the dressing room, I dump my bag onto the floor and pretend to examine my surroundings. Kong’s cell chimes, and he answers it. He quickly turns his back and begins speaking softly to whoever is on the other end.
He doesn’t speak softly enough, though.