Hoops Shorts: A HOOPS Novella Collection

He let out a low grunt of pain, but it soon turned into a sound of ecstasy. He started spewing out Slavic curses. Luna’s mouth dropped open but she grasped the belt in her fist.

“Who’s been a bad boy?” she muttered low.

“Me,” Kostova choked out beneath her. “Bad, bad boy.”

She waved the belt through the air and landed a soft smack on his ass.

“Oh, he’s been a much worse boy than that,” I taunted. “Just think of how he waved a gun in our friend’s face. He’s been very naughty. Very naughty boys deserved to get whipped.”

“Da, da,” gasped the man from underneath her boot heel, his accent heavier. “Me, naughty boy. Naughty boy.”

Luna looked at me, eyes still wide, and bit her lip. Then she let the belt fly again, and this time it hit the guy’s ass with a thwack. He jumped beneath her and let out another groan, thrusting his hips against the cold concrete.

“Naughty, bad, boy,” he grunted, humping the floor.

“No,” Luna said, whipping him again. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”

He immediately stilled.

“Bad boy.” She lifted her boot from his balls so she could get a better angle when she next landed the belt. His entire body reacted to the strike. He moaned, squirming. His hips shuddered and it was obvious he was having a hard time obeying her instructions.

“Please,” he moaned.

Luna reared her arm back and let the belt fly again. “You.” Smack. “Need.” Smack. “To.” Smack. “Learn.” Smack. “To.” Smack. “Listen.”

“Da!” he cried. “I listen. I listen, Mommy. Please let me come.”

Luna looked at me, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe she’d gotten into this position. She backed away from him, then landed one last lash. “Come, naughty boy,” she called.

He started fucking the concrete again until a high-pitched wheezing moan came out of his throat and he stilled.

Luna came back to stand by me. When Kostova finally lifted his head, it was to smile sloppily at Luna. “Very good, American whore.”

Oh, so close, buddy.

I went forward and smashed his face with my steel-toe reinforced boot. His eyes rolled back in his head as he slumped unconscious back to the concrete. “I’m the only one who gets to call her a whore.”

“Bishop!” Luna hissed. “What the hell did you do that for? We were almost out of here scot-free!”

I looked back at her. “I don’t like it when people disrespect you.”

“You disrespect me all the time!”

I grinned at her. “That’s different.”

“How are you smiling right now?” she squeaked. “What are we gonna tell them when we go back in there?”

I shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. Cash’s luck will kick in.”

Her mouth dropped open again for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight. “You guys and the stupid luck! Doesn’t tonight prove it doesn’t fucking exist?!”

“Just the opposite, darlin’. I think we’ve all been very lucky.” I reached down and slid the revolver out of the mobster’s holster at his waist, then snagged the second one he had tucked at his ankle and handed it to Luna.

“What? Don’t give me that!” She fumbled it like she hated even touching it. I rolled my eyes and grabbed it back.

“Fine. I always wanted to be a cowboy. Stay here.” I winked at her and then took both guns, one in each hand like they did in old westerns, then shoved back through the door into the card room.

“Do you feel lucky, punks?” I shouted.

FIFTEEN

LUNA

I was standing behind Bishop when the gunshots went off. I screamed and dropped to the floor out of instinct. Behind me, Kostova groaned.

Everyone was shouting in the room beyond and another gunshot went off.

I screamed again and then slapped a hand over my mouth. What the hell was happening out there? How had this all gone so sideways? I was gonna kill Cash. No, Bishop. I was gonna kill Bishop.

Oh God, what if they were already dead? A scream started in the center of my chest but I held it in my throat.

The noises from the other room were quieting. Because my boys had already been gunned down? Oh god, oh god. My hands squeezed into fists.

I blinked and tried to creep closer to the door to get a peek.

But then a body was suddenly filling the smoky light of the door.

“Come on.” It was Bishop. I could have wept as I jumped up and threw myself in his arms. He swung me around so I was in the larger poker room. “We don’t have much time.” He set me down and grabbed my hand.

“Cash, let’s go,” he barked.

I was still blinking and trying to take in the scene around me. Everything was destroyed. The poker tables were all shot up. So were the walls and pendant lights.

And all of the eight or so men who’d been guarding Kostova were on the floor. Most were groaning. And there was blood. Plenty of blood.