Then there was that gold snake cuff on her upper arm.
Don’t ask me why that was my favorite part. Something about it was just tantalizing as fuck. Like we really were back in ancient times, and she was the seductive mistress that all the men were warned to stay away from because she’d steal your soul along with your virtue.
Not a bad fucking way to go.
“Keep your head down,” I told her, reminding myself to evict the dark thoughts. Nothing was going to happen to Cat. “Women with collars are supposed to be subservient to their owners.” The words were like acid in my throat. “They’re trained to keep their heads lowered as a sign of respect. And if they don’t obey their orders, they’re…punished.”
Cat snorted. “What a crock of shit.”
I nearly tripped over my own feet when Rome grunted from where he walked behind us. To anyone else, it sounded like a grunt anyway. But I knew that was his version of a laugh. This amazing, spirited, passionate, courageous woman had actually made Rome laugh. I wanted to kiss the hell out of her in front of all the degenerates in the room for that alone.
But a “master” never showed that level of affection in public.
I agreed with her. What a crock of shit.
“I think you’ve been hanging around Gia too much,” I said, trying not to grin. “Regardless, it would be better if you mimicked their behavior. We don’t want to draw any undue attention to ourselves.”
“Yeah, I’d rather not in this place.”
I spotted Ivanov, the Romanian, standing near the cage where my fight was set to take place next and tipped my chin. He responded the same way. I led Cat and Rome to the back of the room where a prep area was set up for the fighters that included a speed bag, some free weights, and a full-size punching bag. Dropping my duffel, I shrugged out of my hoodie to start warming up.
“Who are you supposed to be fighting tonight?” Cat quietly asked from her demure position against the wall.
I cracked my neck from side to side, rolling my shoulders. “Some champion from LA. Rumored to be a member of the Crypts.”
She jolted off the wall. “As in, the Bloods and the Crypts? You’re about to fight a member of one of the most dangerous gangs in the country?” She sounded frantic, panicked. She was so cute sometimes. “Luka, what if you win?”
I smirked, shooting her a come on, really? look. “Baby girl, I am going to win.”
Her gorgeous hazel eyes were huge. “Don’t you think he’s going to get a little upset about that? What if he and his crew come after you?”
My attention swung to Rome, who almost looked to be smirking underneath his beard. “Everyone here?”
A curt nod. “We’re set. They’re ready to move on my signal.”
Cat’s hands lurched for mine but stilled at the last second. No undue attention. “Who’s set? What are you talking about?”
“My brothers are here.” I started shadow boxing the speed bag. “They’re keeping low profiles for now, but they’ll be ready to step in should this guy get testy about getting his ass handed to him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that was part of the plan?”
“I didn’t want to run the risk of you looking for them in the crowd. All you need to know right now is that they’re here and they’ll get you out safely if anything goes down.”
She discreetly yanked me to her, angling herself so the rest of the room couldn’t see how close we were. “I’m not worried about me. I care if you get out safely, Luka! You can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?”
Her brow knitted, as if I’d hurt her. “Not giving a shit about yourself. Acting like it wouldn’t kill me if something happened to you. I want you to actually care about keeping yourself safe…for me.”
How the fuck this tiny whisp of a woman—who wasn’t really a whisp at all but a goddamn firecracker—managed to melt the coldest of hearts would forever remain an unsolved mystery. And I couldn’t even touch her in this fucking place. Treating my “property” with any devotion whatsoever would look suspicious. Plus, I didn’t need any of these assholes knowing that Cat was more to me than a pet to be trained and a hole to be filled.
Cat wanted to be with me.
The woman of my dark, twisted dreams wanted me.
I leaned closer to her. “Woman, nothing on this earth is going to keep me from being with you. Hear me? I give a whole lot of shits about making sure you stay mine. Don’t ever doubt that. And don’t ever assume that I won’t lay out every last motherfucker who tries to take me away from you.” Or tries to take you away from me.
After taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Okay.”
My eyes narrowed. “You with me now? ‘Cuz I need you with me, Cat. I need us to be good before anything else happens.”
Because my concentration was shit whenever my mind was consumed by her.
“I’m with you,” she said without hesitation. No trembling in her voice. “We’re good. Let’s do this.”
My upper lip curled as I moved to the punching bag.
Let’s fucking do this.
My opponent went by Dozier.
He was a stalky guy of about average height, with less muscle definition than a lot of the fighters here. But I wasn’t fooled. That was all muscle, not fat. The guy wouldn’t have been the champion of the LA circuit, and never would have been invited to New York, if he was a pussy. He had tattoos scattered all over his body, some professional and some clearly tokens from prison. Naturally, one stood out above all the others.
The single teardrop under his left eye.
I snickered to myself. Just one kill?
Either that or he only had that one gang initiation kill inked onto his body. He could have killed more. But how many of them had been in the name of protecting one’s country, and how many had been over some bullshit retribution? Or a feud over some invisible territory? I wasn’t proud of the lives I’d taken. Those memories kept me up at night and would forever haunt me.
But the people I’d taken out in battle had been worse killers than me.
They killed for the sake of personal agenda. The innocent were just collateral damage to them.
And this son of a bitch…
Wouldn’t stop looking at Cat.
He was blatantly letting his gaze run the length of her body, pausing on particular places and noticeably heating. Aggressive intention lurked in his dark gaze, and it was pissing me off on an unholy level.
Deciding I’d had enough of that bullshit, I walked over to Rome and spoke in a low voice. “Get her out of here. I got a feeling about this guy.”
Cat kept her head lowered, but I could tell she wanted to speak.
Even Rome hesitated. But when he looked over at Dozier, he must have seen what I was seeing because his expression immediately hardened. “Yeah, all right. I’ll take her over to Ace. Keep your shit locked up until I get back, though, got me?”
I nodded.
Rome had his hand on Cat’s elbow, ready to lead her away, when Dozier’s voice rang out across the cage. “How much for the woman?”
My world came to a grinding halt.
Everything went quiet for long moments. The only thing I could hear was my own pulse thumping between my temples like a timpani drum. My head slowly swiveled around to him. I felt the movement in every muscle of my neck as they contracted, one by one. Felt every vertebra in my spine twist. When I fully faced him, the prick was still looking at Cat.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?”
I wanted to make sure I’d heard this motherfucker correctly.
Rome stepped forward. “Luka—”
“I said, how much for the woman?” Dozier repeated. “I’ll pay a fine price for that one. Just name it.”
My thoughts turned darker.
My blood raged faster.
My anger boiled hotter.
And I blacked the fuck out.
“You dare to ask me for my woman?” I snarled.
Dozier�
�s eyes narrowed to slits as he sneered, “You call her your woman, yet you collar her. Where I come from, we only collar whores.”
That snapped the last thread of my tolerance for his disrespect.
My body launched itself at his with a ferocious bellow of unleashed fury.
And I knew then…
Only one of us was coming out of that cage alive.
“We have to do something,” I furiously whispered to Rome. Peeking up through my lowered lashes, I watched in horror as Luka’s concrete fists flew at Dozier’s face. “This isn’t going to end well.”
Dozier’s crew were already converging on the cage. Not interceding yet, just watching. Even though the two men had been scheduled to fight anyway, they, along with everyone else watching, had seen Luka’s reaction to Dozier’s offer. They knew this was no longer a fight between two opponents. This was a beatdown between two enemies.
Dozier’s men were ready—waiting—to take Luka out if he crossed the line.
And judging by the relentless swinging of his fists and the maniacal glint in his eyes, he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.
He was going savage.
And Dozier wasn’t just taking it. He was coming at Luka with everything he had and Luka couldn’t block every hit. He took some to the ribs, to the kidneys, to the face. Dozier had skill, and with the addition of both of these men’s tempers, it was turning into a bloodbath.
“The asshole had it coming,” Rome responded in his signature gravelly voice. “Don’t worry about Luka. He’ll make Dozier bleed.”
Was he not getting the urgency of the situation here?
“He might be able to handle Dozier.” I was growing more anxious by the second. “But what happens when his crew goes in there after Luka makes him bleed too much?”
Rome’s eyes were dark and hidden under even darker eyelashes, so you could never get a good read on what the man was thinking or feeling. But I knew that gaze was scanning over the crowd, back and forth, on high alert for oncoming threats.
“The rest of us are ready for a fight,” he murmured, referring to his other brothers in the crowd. “Trust me, it would be far from the first one we’ve ever been in.” He shifted closer to me and lowered his voice. “What about you? Are you ready?”
I’d been getting the sense that Rome hadn’t been sold on me from the beginning. It felt as though he’d been holding back his judgment until he’d learned more about me. As if he wasn’t sure I was right for Luka and needed to see proof first. Which I understood. Family were always the hardest people to convince. I respected him for caring about his twin that much.
“When it comes to Luka, I’m always ready. It wouldn’t be the first fight I’ve ever been in either.”
Again, Rome kept all of his emotions so close to the vest, you’d think he didn’t have any. But even I could feel the surprise my confidence stirred in him.
My head was still lowered, so I allowed my mouth to curve into a grin. “I’m tougher than I look, Rome. My life has been the complete opposite of white picket fences and three-course meals. I’ve seen my share of muerte.” Death. “And I’m not going to run away if it tries coming for me. Or for Luka.”
I hoped the grunting noise he made was Rome’s sign of approval.
“I’m really starting to believe that, Cat.”
The vicious sounds of flesh connecting with flesh had me lifting my gaze long enough to spot the two men on the opposite side of the cage. Both were covered in sweat with blood dripping from their faces, but neither looked close to stopping. Dozier’s men were lined up around the cage, bouncing on the balls of their feet, clearly eager to participate in the bloodshed.
They’ve got murder in their eyes.
There weren’t rules in The Slaughterhouse. And I could tell these guys really weren’t going to play fair. They had weapons sheathed at their sides and holstered on their hips and shoulders.
Inside the cage was one-on-one fighting.
Outside the cage? Anything was on the table.
Luka reared back his fist and, with all his might, drove it into Dozier’s jaw, snapping it to the side. I flinched when I heard the distinct crack of bones breaking. The LA champion went stiff as a board and collapsed onto the bloodied concrete floor.
That’s when all hell broke loose.
Dozier’s crew took that as their cue to scramble inside the cage and beeline for Luka.
“Shit,” Rome spat.
As he sprinted for the chain link gate, he released a loud whistle. The signal for the other Rossetti brothers to swarm in. Sure enough, Cris, Nico, and Ace pushed through the crowd seconds later and followed Rome inside the dirty cage that had suddenly become a war zone.
My heart was in my throat.
My stomach was in my toes.
Helpless, I watched as Luka took on two men at once, while the other four Rossettis split up Dozier’s crew amongst themselves. The brothers were definitely outnumbered, though they weren’t fighting like it. You sure as hell wouldn’t know the odds were against them. The crowd around me were like rabid animals, screaming and chanting and shaking the cage so violently, the chain links were bound to break free any second.
A reflection off an object inside the cage momentarily blinded me.
A huge Bowie knife.
One of Dozier’s men flipped the weapon over in his hand as he stood behind Luka, who was facing off with another man. He shuffled closer to Luka, preparing to ambush him from behind.
I had to act fast.
Frantically searching the space around me, I spotted an abandoned jump rope that one of the fighters must have used in his warm-up. I swiped it off the floor and rushed toward the gate, my pulse pounding in my ears with every stride. Luka was still fighting his current opponent and had no clue what was sneaking up behind him. Just as the bastard lifted the knife above his head and prepared to drive it into Luka’s shoulder, I leapt onto his back and wrapped the jump rope around his thick neck.
“What…the…fuck,” he croaked, his body jerking to try and buck me off.
As big as he was, I had to use every muscle in my legs and arms to keep the right amount of pressure on his throat. His fingers clawed at the rope but couldn’t loosen it. He tried swinging the knife around at me, but I ducked behind his back to avoid getting sliced.
I’m a lot more flexible than you, puta.
I saw the side of his face turning red as he struggled to suck in oxygen. But I wasn’t letting go until he dropped that knife and got the hell away from my boyfriend.
And there was way the hell too much going on to dwell on the fact that I’d just called Luka my boyfriend.
“Someone get this fucking bitch off me!” the man yelled.
Luka’s head whipped around, finally taking in what was going on behind him. He roared in outrage, threw the guy he was exchanging punches with against the fence, and drove his fist into the man I was choking.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Luka shouted at me, though his focus remained on the man I held. “Are you insane?”
After another punch to the stomach, the guy fell to his knees and doubled over. I slipped off his back but didn’t let go of that jump rope. As miniscule a weapon as it might have been compared to a Bowie knife, I didn’t want to be inside that cage with empty hands.
Crouching low, I prepared for the next attack.
But my arm was ripped to the side.
Luka’s enraged face filled my vision. “Stay the fuck behind me,” he growled and pushed me back.
“I have been,” I snapped. “That’s why you don’t currently have a knife sticking out of your back.”
When I returned my attention to the rest of the cage, the five Rossetti brothers were faced off against the last of Dozier’s men that remained on their feet.
All three of them.
The rest were lying on the stained floor, either knocked out or groaning in pain. Rome really hadn’t been kidding. These brothers had definitely been ready fo
r a fight.
Luka stepped forward, his hands unconsciously curling into fists. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. I don’t know how things are done in LA, but here in New York, we take it very personally when someone insults our property. You’re lucky you didn’t get worse than what you got. Now, get your asses the fuck out of my city. And be grateful that we’re even allowing you to.”
The Dozier crew members’ faces all glittered with anger. But with the Rossetti brothers looming over them, they slowly hobbled out of the cage, the able-bodied ones helping carry the not-so-able ones out.
“Stay here,” Luka hissed before stalking across the cage to speak to his brothers, who didn’t look much worse for wear. A couple of split lips, some bloodied knuckles, and a puffy eye or two but that was it.
Once Luka finished talking to them, he stomped back over to me and—
Dios.
I’d never seen him so irate.
“Let’s go.”
He snagged my hand without pausing his long-legged gait and dragged me out of the cage, ignoring every person stupid enough to try and speak to him. He blew past the other fighters and didn’t wait for his brothers who were trailing behind us, presumably to watch our backs.
Just as we reached the long, dark tunnel that led to the exit, Luka pulled me in the opposite direction. “Where are we going?”
It was an entire network of tunnel systems down here, with multiple shadowy hallways that led into maze-like labyrinths in various directions. Spooky. As soon as we turned a corner from the main fight room, Luka pinned me against the stone wall and caged me in.
“Do you have no thought for your own safety?” he growled. “You just jump inside a death cage with nothing more than a fucking jump rope to protect you? What in the goddamn fuck were you thinking, Cat?”
I glared. “I was thinking about saving your ass. That hijo de puta had a humongous knife and was about to shove it right into your back!”
“That’s all, huh? You were putting your own life on the line in order to save mine?”
“That shouldn’t come as a surprise to you by now.”
He smirked. “I wouldn’t say surprise. More like a satisfying affirmation.”
Glitter and Greed (Brooklyn Brothers #4) Page 23
