I’d never been much of a gambler and didn’t understand the draw. I worked too hard to throw my money away, especially in a city where most everything was rigged. I knew, because the Marianis rigged it. The fights were one of the few industries we didn’t touch, but that didn’t mean that some other family wasn’t paying off fighters or officials.
Keeping one eye on the fight, I crossed the room to stand beside Christian.
“Bones,” Christian said, his gaze locked on the cage. Gold Shorts took a right hook to the jaw and Christian winced. “What brings you to the Pit?”
No doubt he already knew. Christian’s bread and butter was information—it’s how he paid his gambling debts—and since the Mariani family had been busy with our recent house cleaning, he probably knew more than we did about what was going on around town. I was counting on it, in fact.
“Heard a rumor Joey Durante’s back in town. Thought you might know where he’s holed up and what the fuck he’s doing here.”
Christian leaned back in his chair, his smile greasy. “I might know something about that, but it sounds like valuable information. Wonder what the Marianis would be willing to pay?”
“You know we have deep pockets, Christian.”
The fight in the ring was winding down. Blue Shorts shoved Gold Shorts’s face into the metal wire of the cage and did a number on his back and kidneys. Finally, Gold Shorts bounced off the grate and fell to the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head and blood dribbling from crisscross patterns dug into his cheeks by the wire. His nose looked broken and his jaw was already darkening with a massive bruise. It might have been broken. The announcer stepped into the cage and announced the victor. The crowd went wild and I braced against people pressing forward to place their next bets.
Gold Shorts’s chest rose and fell, but he wasn’t moving as the medics hurried in and looked him over. They loaded him on a stretcher and carried him out.
Christian swore, shaking his head. “That’s a damn shame. Thought for sure he’d get further than one round. I didn’t peg him to win, but I thought he’d at least make a goddamn round. It’s almost impossible to get a good fighter around here anymore.”
I nodded, anticipating what was coming. Christian had seen me in the cage and knew I could hold my own. It was just a matter of time before—
“When was the last time you were in the cage?” Christian asked, staring up at me.
I fought a smile. Some people were so damn predictable it was almost too easy. “Over a year.”
“A year? Lots of new faces around here.”
Again, I nodded. “Even if the old-timers recognized me, they’d probably think I lost my edge.”
“You’d be going against Crusher.” Christian nodded at some big, hairy motherfucker pacing the side of the cage. Looked like he could do some damage, but his movements were slow. I’d have to get in and out before he swung.
“What’s my cut?” I asked.
“Information.”
I chuckled. “Not enough.” I’d be putting my life and body at risk. “You know the family won’t risk me without something more than that to show for it.”
“Twenty-five percent.”
“Bullshit. We both know you’ll make a killing off this.”
He eyed me. “Only if you win.”
Since Christian knew what I was capable of, the asshole was just busting my balls. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t like the risk,” I pointed out. “Seventy-five percent.”
He snorted. “Thirty.”
Not in the mood to haggle with the dirtbag, I said, “Fifty percent and all the information you have on Joey Durante, his associates, and anything related. Take it, or I walk, Christian.”
He gave me another greasy smile. “Sounds like you better go put your name on the docket.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Ariana
KNOCKING WOKE ME. Unsure if the sound was coming from my head or the door, I rolled over and looked at the clock. Ten a.m. More knocking sounded, definitely coming from my bedroom door. With no job, no social life, and a raging cheap wine hangover, I was really hoping to sleep the day away, but apparently someone had other plans.
“Go away,” I groaned.
