I nodded distractedly.
“When one speaks of the devil,” Cheryl whispered.
I followed her gaze toward the entrance. Falcone and Fabiano had entered the room. My eyes found Fabiano’s. His were fierce and worried.
I clutched the edges of the counter.
I’d come to Las Vegas for a better life. For a future away from the misery that was my mother’s existence. Away from the darkness that was her constant companion.
And now I was caught up in something far darker than anything I’d ever known existed.
Remo’s eyes wandered from Fabiano to me, and something cold and frightened curled up in the pit of my stomach. If he found out that Fabiano had killed one of his men because of me, he’d not only end Fabiano’s life, but also mine. And it wouldn’t be quick.
Remo finally averted his eyes from me, and I could breathe again. I quickly turned around and busied myself sorting the clean glasses Cheryl had brought in from the kitchen earlier. I kept my head down as I served beer to customers. I didn’t want to risk catching Fabiano’s eyes again.
Griffin climbed up on the platform of the cage, and I stopped what I was doing. He had never done that before. He raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “Death match,” he announced simply and a hush went through the crowd, followed by thunderous applause.
“What does that mean?” I whispered.
Cheryl gave me a pointed look. “It’s going to be ugly, Chick.”
Fabiano leaned against a side of the booth, where two of the Falcone brothers were sitting. He hadn’t looked my way since he’d first come in with Remo. It was probably better that way.
But deep down I wished he’d give me a small signal of reassurance even if it was only show.
When Remo stalked toward the cage, a lump formed in my throat. This was going to get ugly like Cheryl had said.
Remo’s fight outmatched all the previous fights in its brutality. Remo was out to hurt. To break. To kill. This wasn’t about winning.
This was madness and cruelty and bloodlust.
He faced two opponents, but the first was dead within the first two minutes. Falcone broke his neck with a hard kick. After that he was more careful. The second opponent was the one I felt sorry for. His death wasn’t quick. It was like watching a cat toy with a mouse.
Eventually I had to turn my back on the scene.
I pressed my palm against my mouth, breathing through my nose.
When the crowd erupted with cheers, I dared to look back and wished I hadn’t. Remo was completely covered in blood. The man at his feet, he was the source of it.
I sucked in a deep breath, trying to fight my rising nausea.
“I think you should go outside and catch some air,” Cheryl said. “If you throw up, it means only more work for both of us.”
I gave a shake of my head. “I’m fine,” I bit out. I forced a smile at a customer who was waving at me for more beer. I quickly loaded a tray and headed over to him. Perhaps work would keep me distracted from the cage. I never looked toward it or Remo. If I wanted to keep my composure, I had to pretend none of this had happened.
Roger was cursing as he cleaned the cage. Neither Cheryl nor Mel, and least of all I would agree to get in there.
Fabiano had disappeared with Remo and his brothers almost one hour ago, and I wondered if he would be there to pick me up tonight. I suspected he might not risk us being seen together today. My suspicions were confirmed when I walked out to the parking lot and found it empty except for Roger’s car.
I hesitated. Should I wait for him? But what if Remo required his presence? Fabiano couldn’t risk anything right now.
I lifted my backpack on my shoulder, and decided to head home. I wrapped my arms around myself. I wasn’t sure if my teeth were shattering because I was cold. I still had the money I won with my bet against Boulder in the backpack. I hadn’t found time to give it to my mother yet. I wanted to get rid of the money as quickly as possible.
A new wave of panic washed over me. We needed to leave Las Vegas before Remo found out. And when had I become we?
When I watched Fabiano commit the ultimate sin for me? He’d done it before, but this time I’d let him.
The familiar purr of an engine caught my attention. I stopped and turned to see Fabiano’s Mercedes driving down the street toward me. Of course he would make sure I was safe.
I got in the moment he stopped beside me. He hit the gas and did a U-turn, taking us back to his apartment. After what had happened in the last twenty-four hours, it was difficult to form the right words, or any words, really.