Roxy waved off her friend, like the distinction was inconsequential. “You’ll do that too someday. I have no doubt.”
Luka had been watching the scene—mostly me—with quiet assessment, chin propped in his hand as he leaned against the reception desk. But he spoke up when I discreetly glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Did the three of you come by just to discuss Career Day?” he asked. “Because Cat here has a class to teach.”
“Actually, bro,” Gia said in a sing-song voice as she sidled up next to me. “Cat’s class is the very reason we’re here.”
Luka frowned. “Sorry?”
Jasmine threw her arms in the air. “We signed up! It’s a surprise for the guys, though, so don’t say anything to Cris or Ace.”
Luka straightened away from the desk, looking hilariously uncomfortable. “I thought the beginners class was full?”
Deja tossed him a wink. “I was able to squeeze them in. Although, we might want to start adding more slots throughout the week because more people are signing up every day.”
“Cat has another job,” Luka argued. “She doesn’t have time for—”
“Actually, that’s where I just came from,” I interjected. “I quit my job at Habanero.”
When his head swung around to me, I couldn’t look away. I felt everyone watching us, but I couldn’t muster the energy to care because Luka’s effect on me—his power over me—overrode any good sense I had left. It wasn’t hard to translate the message being broadcasted in those eyes either.
Why the hell didn’t you quit the job at Rumors instead?
If he had the nerve to actually ask me that in front of these women, I’d break out some of those self-defense moves he taught me. And I wouldn’t be pulling any punches. He didn’t need to know why that job at Rumors was so critical for me to keep. Besides, my shift at Habanero conflicted with my class schedule at the gym. I only worked nights at Rumors. The only thing it conflicted with was my sleep, though it didn’t always make a difference. I still had insomnia either way.
“Awesome!” Deja exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Cat, come see me after this class and we’ll work out a new schedule.”
I nodded at her. “Sounds good.”
Noting the look on Luka’s face, Gia pulled the other two women around by the elbows and led them away. “We’ll see you in class, teach!”
Deja muttered something about using the restroom under her breath and left the two of us alone. Luka closed the distance between our bodies, eyes so intent on mine they stole my breath.
“Sorry, was I supposed to run my new schedule by the boss first?”
He waved at Deja’s empty chair. “Between insubordinate employees and family interference, I don’t think the boss has too much pull here anymore.”
“Sure you do. I heard you telling Deja which brand of toilet paper to buy just yesterday. That’s essential decision making right there.”
He took another step closer until our chests grazed. “I think I’m going to have to amend my policies on sexual harassment in the workplace.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because the things I want to do to you and that smart mouth right now are against every rule in the book. Hell, probably some laws too. They would shut this whole place down if they knew how deep I want to be inside one of my employees.”
This man and his mouth, I swear.
What made him so tempting, so addicting, was how utterly certain I was down in my soul that Luka would be the most exhilarating ride of my life.
But the crash would be devastating.
Nothing with him could last. My highest priority was finding Luciana, and that’s what I needed to focus on. Because if it couldn’t last, then it didn’t need to begin in the first place. I knew all of this.
So, why did encouraging him charge all my insides like an electric shock?
I rose up on my tip toes and placed a hand on his rock hard pec. “Then by all means, boss. Call up Human Resources and have them draft a new policy.” My hand drifted down his chest, trailing closer and closer to his waistband. When my fingers walked along his drawstring, venturing real close to his confined shaft, he hissed through his teeth. “After all, we wouldn’t want you to get into deep…deep…trouble. Would we?”
His strong fingers wrapped around my seeking ones, staying them. “I’m starting to think getting cuffs slapped on me might be worth it.”
My grin was sly. “Oh, you have no idea.”
His eyes flared.
“Let’s go, Kitty Cat!” Gia yelled from across the gym. “You can be disgusting with my brother later.”
I covered up my embarrassment over being called out with false bravado. “Duty calls, boss.”
I eased away from Luka and once again, put distance between us.
Only, distance was the one thing I desperately didn’t want between us.
“I heard you pay for information.”
I jerked around at the nasally male voice that came from right behind me. I was always jumpy at Rumors and understandably so. If you weren’t getting groped by a customer, you were probably getting ripped off by one of the other girls.
“Depends on the kind of information you’ve got,” I answered in a no-nonsense voice.
Judging from his unfocused eyes and wobbly stance, the guy had something in his system, which would impact how seriously I took his “information.” I took everything I heard here with a grain of salt because taking junkies, drunks, and hardcore criminals at their word was foolish. The necessity for quick cash could motivate even the dullest of light bulbs to come up with some fanciful story they thought you’d be interested in.
The scrawny man licked his dry, cracked lips while his eyes darted wildly around the club. “The fucked up kind that involves chicks bein’ chained up and sold like slaves. That interesting enough for you?”
I casually glanced at the tables closest to us. I didn’t need any of my co-workers overhearing this. “Let’s go in one of the back rooms.”
His neck twitched. “I’m not havin’ my face on none of those cameras.”
Did he not realize he was being recorded from the moment he stepped inside the building? There were cameras all over this joint, which I was all too aware of anytime I met with an informant. Meeting at the club was risky, but it would have been even riskier meeting them somewhere on my own. Not that I had much of a choice.
Luciana was out there somewhere, and somebody knew where.
“Fine.” I pointed to an empty half-booth. “Sit down over there, and tell me what you know.”
He flashed a mouth lined with yellow-stained teeth. “How do I know this isn’t some kinda scam you got goin’ with the owners? Or with all your customers? I wanna see some cash first.”
I barely restrained my laughter. Cracked Lips here thought he was so clever. Acting like I was readjusting my top, I slipped my fingers into my bra and let him see the stack of twenties.
“I wouldn’t be concerned about me writing you a bad check.” I led him over to the leather booth and pushed him down onto it. “But I only pay for useful information. You make one wrong move or think that last week’s news is going to cut it, I’ll have one of the bouncers throw you out on your ass.”
He glared. “You an undercover cop or some shit?”
Did he really think I would tell him if I was? What an idioto.
My smile was rueful. “La policia can kiss my ass. I’m just looking for someone. And I’m willing to pay to find her.”
If it takes every last cent and every last breath.
Swallowing my disgust, I straddled the guy’s lap and braced my back against the table in front of him. I wanted to make as little contact as possible. When I began to roll my hips up his torso, his glazed eyes darkened, locking on my undulating breasts. There was a lot for him to look at too because this outfit, like all the others, covered so little. Cropped leather bustier on top, microscopic leather shorts on bottom, fingerless leather gloves, fishnets,
and thigh-high leather boots.
“Start talking or I stop dancing.”
I wasn’t wasting time here.
Time was something my sister didn’t have a lot of.
His eyes flicked up to mine in annoyance before lowering back to my chest. “The slick motherfuckers buyin’ up all those girls at auctions and shit? Women ain’t the only thing they’re throwin’ their money at. They like to bet on fights too.”
“What kind of fights?”
His attention caught on my hair when I flipped it over my shoulder. “Underground fights. Illegal ones. No rules down there. Most cops don’t even know about ‘em.”
“You’re saying the same men who purchase the women at auction also attend and bet on these fights?”
“They ain’t in charge of the fights, but they’re gamblin’ on ‘em. All these guys run in the same fuckin’ circles. Anything that’s a big money maker in this city, you’ll find the same crowd.”
“Who runs the fights?”
His upper lip curled in a snarl as my hips swerved in a figure eight. “Don’t know.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Who runs the auctions?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know.”
I patted him on the shoulder and moved to climb off. “Well, it’s been real, amigo.”
“Wait.” He grabbed my arm, holding me still. “The Mexican cartel are haulin’ the chicks up here. Some guy called The Scorpion or some shit. He’s gotta be involved in the auctions somehow.”
Tell me something I don’t know.
“I already know the cartel is dealing in sex trafficking. Try again.”
Please, please be okay, Luciana. Por favor.
His eyes flew erratically around the room, up at the ceiling. What, did he think the CIA was listening to our conversation? “I’ve heard rumors about who’s organizing the auctions,” he whispered.
I eased back over him and resumed my hovering lap dance. His hands snaked around my hips, but I smacked them away. “No touching. You were saying?”
“Word is that Raphael Esposito is facilitatin’ the sales.”
I knew that name. How did I know that—
“The mafia Boss?”
Cracked Lips nodded, attention focused on my splayed thighs. “That’s the word on the street.”
Mierda.
This was getting worse and worse. The cartel was bad enough. I was familiar with their means of punishment and torture. I knew how they operated. The mafia was an entirely new animal to me. And from what Deja told me about the Esposito family, Raphael was as sadistic as the devils I knew personally.
“Where are the fights held?”
He snorted. “Only the high rollers and the fighters know that.”
“Then why am I here?” Because this man was certainly no high roller, and even I could take him in a fight.
He added in a sneer, “I know one of the fighters and he let the location slip.”
“Where?”
His smirk was cold and cruel. “Cash first.”
Tamping down my impatience, I carefully reached back inside my bra and pulled out all but a couple of bills. As discreetly as possible, I slid them into his pants pocket. “Tell me a date and location and you’ll get the rest.”
With a grunt, he rattled off an address. Somewhere in Chinatown.
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.”
I handed over the rest of the cash, ready to go take the longest shower of my life. “Is that all?”
He tipped his head to the side. “You should be careful, girl. There are people who might be interested in hearin’ that some stripper is askin’ questions she ought not to be askin’. They might be willin’ to pay more than you are.”
Not that clever.
I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “And El Escorpion might want to know about some asshole who’s got a loose tongue.” I inched back to see him swallow nervously. I tsked at him. “You should be careful, mi amigo, before you know who’s working for whom.”
I slapped him on the cheek with a little extra force, and removed myself from his lap. That last comment ensured that he wouldn’t follow me or go blabbing about me to anyone he shouldn’t. Let him think I worked for El Escorpion.
I didn’t, of course.
I was just engaged to him.
“I’ll say it again, man, this whole plan has me real fucking uneasy.”
I cracked my neck, bouncing on the balls of my feet. “It has to be done.”
Rome scoffed. “Bullshit. There are other avenues of getting information. Plenty of ways that don’t involve you relapsing.”
My head snapped around to his, my expression full of warning. “We’ve been at this for nearly a month. I’ve already faced four other fighters. Do I look like I’m fucking relapsing?”
His eyes narrowed to slits. Sniper eyes. “You’re different down here than when you were years ago. I know that. But that girl is getting inside your head, and I’m not sure that’s any better than how you were before.”
Her name is Cat hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I bit back the words. It would only bolster his argument, and I wouldn’t fall into the trap. Or give him any more reasons to think I couldn’t handle this. There was too much at stake this time to risk screwing anything up.
“She’s got nothing to do with this,” I grated out. “My head is clear. Look me in the eyes and tell me you think I can’t take this fucker down.”
Rome looked me directly in the eyes but said fuck-all. Just sighed deeply and ran a tattooed hand down his bearded face.
Alek slapped Rome’s shoulder. “He’s got this, man. He’s a lot stronger than he was years ago, I can see that. Wherever his head is at, it’s doing him a world of good.”
I rolled my eyes at him talking like I wasn’t standing two fucking feet away. “Thanks for the pep talk, coach.”
Alek chuckled. “Anytime, Undertaker.”
My eyes ran over the thriving crowd of The Slaughterhouse. The place was packed wall-to-wall with bloodthirsty spectators, foaming at the mouth for violence and bloodshed. Their chants and cheers as they watched the other fights taking place echoed off the dank stone walls, creating a symphony of sadism. A composition of cruelty and perversion.
The scene was almost fitting, considering the place had gotten its name from rumors that it had once been an actual slaughterhouse. Back in the late 1800s, subterranean tunnels had supposedly been used to shepherd cattle across the city to the slaughterhouse, in order to avoid traffic jams on the street level. Rumor has it the cattle were led to this dungeon-like room to be gutted and drained of blood.
And the slaughtering never stopped.
“Jesus,” Alek muttered under his breath. “This is the biggest crowd they’ve ever seen down here. Sure you can’t come headline in Chicago, just for a few weeks?”
He already knew my answer. “You know why I’m down here.” Not for the money. Not even for the thrill anymore. “As soon as I get what I’m after, I’m out.”
We couldn’t positively identify all the individuals in this room who had the information we were after. Information the cops would get fucking boners over. All we had for sure were our suspicions. Which was why winning this fight was so important. Our theory was that after I won, those people would come to us.
And Alek wasn’t lying about the crowd.
Tonight was the Fight Night.
The champion and the challenger facing off.
Kamikaze snarled and drooled at me from the other side of the cage, like a feral animal. I wasn’t sure the metal chain around his neck wasn’t attached to a leash that kept him contained until it was time to let him loose. Whereas I was much more subdued, conserving my energy until it was the best time to strike.
But the crowds loved a killer.
Kamikaze was clearly that, and they were all dying to see him go on a murderous rampage.
They’re about to be fucking disappointed.
He had a crew with him too. Men who
looked just as psychotic and deranged as he did. Men who were all armed and at least a few of whom were coked out of their minds. I’d seen some of them snorting lines off a woman’s tits a few minutes before.
“Everyone in position?” I asked Rome.
“Yeah.” His gaze casually tracked across the room. “Everyone knows to move in on my signal if this guy and his bros decide they don’t like losing their money to the new guy.”
Nico, Cris, and Ace were all blending in with the crowd, ready to strike if the shit hit the fan. Even Alek had flown back from Chicago just for this fight, despite not being asked to. I knew he’d throw down for me if things came to that. I’d do the same for him.
“You ready?” Alek asked.
I felt a wry smile pull at the corners of my mouth. My hands fisted at my sides. “Yeah, I’m fucking ready.”
Welcome to Fight Night.
I’d been inside the cage four times in the past four weeks. But this time felt different than all the rest. Maybe because I knew I actually had a worthy opponent. Maybe because there was so much riding on the line with this fight.
This was the first time it felt like it had back then.
Don’t think about that.
I shook my arms out, rolled my neck. Shirtless, all I wore were a pair of gym shorts and the silver chain I donned for every fight. No gloves, no tape. Kamikaze was dressed similarly, facing me from the opposite corner of the cage. He started punching himself in the head—hard—and screaming at nothing like a maniac.
And I thought I was fucking crazy.
The man had a truly unhinged look in his eyes. Something told me he probably wasn’t holding a full deck of cards, but right then it didn’t matter. I was there to put him on his ass and nothing less.
Alek stepped between us in the center of the cage. “Everyone knows the fucking rules here. First to knockout wins. You can’t get back up, you lose. You stop breathing, that’s on you.”
And that was it.
Meaning, everything was on the table.
No moves were prohibited inside the cage. Any way a man could win, he did it. Because every man knew that if he died inside the cage, no one batted an eye. No one cared. It had happened too many times before.
Glitter and Greed (Brooklyn Brothers #4) Page 14