Page 19 of Dirty Big Sins

It was Julie who finally stepped forward and bit the bullet. “It’s too late. He’s already here and has been working in the kitchen since this afternoon.”

I stared at her, unblinking. I couldn’t have heard her right. Or maybe my brain wasn’t comprehending words correctly.

“How? Why?” I was having trouble stringing words together at the loud sound of blood rushing in my ears.

“Uh oh. I don’t think this is going to be good.”

We all turned at the warning tone of Nova’s voice to see her staring down at the main club area near the entrance.

“What is it?” Nina squeezed into the space next to her and examined the area. Her sharp intake of breath followed by her warning glance in my direction did not bode well.

Jesus Fucking Christ. What now? I was still reeling about the news of a stranger in my kitchen that I had the murderous urge to remove. I did not have the capacity to deal with more.

I didn’t have to wait long to find out. Shouts erupted and what sounded like several tables crashed to the ground.

“It’s Vincent.”

I rushed forward to investigate.

“And his opponent, The Berserker himself.” The tone of Julie’s voice when she said the Berserker with such awe might have made me laugh if it weren’t for the fact the two were actually down on the main floor circling each other.

“What the hell are they doing here together? Is this some sort of publicity stunt I wasn’t made aware of?” Nina sounded annoyed and I was right there with her. “I was assured that the illustrious owner would not be in attendance this evening, otherwise we would have gone elsewhere.”

It was then I remembered the name of the club. Berserkers. Of course.

Of all the gin joints in all the land...

Chapter Nine

VINCENT

When I’d walkedinto Club Berserker, the last thing I’d expected to find blocking my path was the fucker I had to fight in less than a week.

I’d come to find my woman, and I wasn’t about to let this punk or anyone else stop me.

“Who invited the trash?” Callum said.

My eyes narrowed at his taunt, but I wasn’t as interested in his antics this time around. We’d fed the press and the fans with enough bullshit this week to last a lifetime and I didn’t want to waste another second.

“Fuck you, Murphy and get the hell out of my way. This isn’t part of the show.” I looked past him and his entourage and scanned the area for Zia and her friends. After a lot of persuasion and a rough negotiation that included a promise to give his hotel a shot at another fight if and when another got scheduled, Gabe had relented and told me where to find Zia.

Although he’d warned me the ladies were apparently in the midst of some girls thing that I shouldn’t interrupt unless I wanted to get torn into pieces.

As shredded as I felt at the moment, I doubted the situation could get worse. Until I’d walked into the club and found this asshole lording over the place and trying to block my entrance.

“Fuck you, Cabrini. This is my club and I don’t have to do anything here I don’t want to, including let your ugly ass in.” He slapped a hand on my chest that I quickly shoved away as he nodded to someone on his left and in my peripheral vision I saw two men headed our way.

I leaned closer again and lowered my voice since I could see several patrons with their phones pointed our way and knew this exchange would end up on social media within thirty seconds.

“I’m not interested in staying, mother fucker, but I’m not leaving either. Not without my woman. If you want to fight now instead of saving it for the ring and the potential payday you’d earn, I can accommodate that. Now or then, it makes no difference to me. Unlike you, I don’t need the money.” And it was true. This fight wasn’t about the money for me. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy it when the check cleared, but my revenue base from outside fighting had long since eclipsed the fight money.

These weren’t the old days when I had to scrape and fight just to put food in my stomach or to keep some shitty roof over my head. I had prepared well for my retirement.

The anger still vibrated from Murphy, but I also saw the curiosity grow in his eyes. I’d given him something personal that wasn’t public knowledge and he fucking knew it. I also knew he wouldn’t pass up the money he would get paid whether he won or lost. Guys like him never did.

Also, rumors around town were that he was heavily in debt. To the Las Vegas Cullotta crime family, to be specific. It would explain how he’d become their puppet and why they wanted him to win so badly. This club appeared to be part of that. The building it was housed in was owned by one of the major casino conglomerates and was well known to be a front for one of the families represented here.

Which also probably meant it was used for all kinds of back door activities including, but likely not limited to money laundering.

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