“No!” She shouted. “Stop this. You have to make this stop. Please!”
Instead of doing something, anything to end the riot, Marco just laughed above her. “Why the fuck would I do that?” he asked.
“Because the Handlers have a deal for you that you don’t want to miss out on.”
“A deal?”
“Yes.”
“Give me the basics?”
The basics?
Well, shit, time to bluff in the most important poker game of her life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
1983 - TENNESSEE
If the three of them made it out of this shit-fest alive, Viper would personally see to it Sarge died a painful death.
The fucking ape behind him wrenched his shoulders back until it felt like the balls of the joints would pop straight through his skin.
Another fist plowed into his stomach. He sagged forward as far as the fucker holding him would allow, coughing, and trying to let in some air. That guy might as well have been swinging a baseball bat for all the power behind his punches. Fucking goliaths, all of Vito’s guys.
Viper may be down, but he was far from out. Now that his enemies thought he couldn’t hold his own and was an easy conquest, he had a bit of an advantage. This time, as the brute swung his fist toward Viper’s face yet again, he used the thug holding him in place for leverage. With a silent prayer of thanks to all those crunches he did nightly, Viper wrenched his legs up and kicked straight out like a pissed off stallion. His heavy motorcycle boots connected with the stocky thug’s chest with a sickening crunch, propelling the man backward with a whoosh of painfully expelled air. The guy went crashing down on his ass, arms flailing like an upended bug. The moment he hit the ground he curled into a ball, clutching his side and groaning.
One down.
His buddy’s failure was enough to distract the beast behind Viper. “Shit,” he yelled, slackening his hold.
Viper dropped to a half squat, and with a roar, thrust his upper body forward. Hard. The man squealed as he flipped over Viper’s back, sailing through the air and landing in a heap on the floor. Though Sarge could probably use his help, Viper didn’t spare his brother a second. Dodging a large man hurtling in his direction, he barreled toward the bar.
Marco held Cassie by the hair. By the fucking hair. Her hands were up, grasping at the piece of shit’s wrist. She swayed, probably trying to balance on her tip toes to relieve the pressure. Her mouth twisted in a grimace as she tried to find relief. A trickle of bright red blood ran down her nose and a purple ring had already bloomed beneath her right eye.
Marco made her bleed.
Viper’s nostril’s flared. Now he understood why a bull charged when taunted. Fucking rage. Marco had signed his own death warrant. With a near roar, Viper barreled toward the man holding his woman until Marco picked up a half-full liquor bottle with his free hand. He smashed the bottle on the bar top.
The sound of shattering glass cut through all the noise in the bar, rendering everyone mute.
Then he brought the jagged edge of the bottle’s neck to Cassie’s throat. Viper watched it happen as though in slow motion. He skidded to a dead stop two feet out from the bar.
“Everyone shut the fuck up,” Marco roared as murmurs kicked up in the bar. “I said shut the fuck up.” Complete and total silence fell. “Tell me why I shouldn’t take your girl in my office and fuck her stupid,” Marco asked in a deadly cold voice.
Because I’ll cut your fucking dick off.
The words, stupid as they may have been, were nearly out of Viper’s mouth when Sarge came shoving through the crowd. Blood and bruises marred his swollen face and he moved with a noticeable limp. At least the fucker hadn’t come out of this cluster fuck of his own making bright and shiny.
“Because he wasn’t the one to touch your girl. That was me.”
The cocky motherfucker raised his hands and kept walking forward as though he held all the control. Viper gritted his teeth. It didn’t matter who died first, Sarge and Marco were both on his list.
“You could fuck her,” he continued as he lowered his arms. “It sure would fuck with my buddy’s head.” He shrugged. “But it wouldn’t do shit to me.”
Marco narrowed his eyes and pressed the sharp glass to Cassie’s neck. The jagged bottle pierced the baby-soft skin of her throat. Viper’s gaze tracked the red trail that flowed down her neck, disappearing into her top. He breathed through his nose as his teeth were clenched too hard to allow air flow.
Cassie’s small whimper and the sight of her tears sliced into his heart.
“How about if I slit her throat? Will that mean shit to you?” Marco asked with a grin as though the idea appealed to him.