“Thirty grand.A loan because we needed to place a bet.”He swallows hard and I know exactly why he needed to place the bet.
Disapproval weighs heavy in my voice when I tell the idiot, “There’s more ways than one to pay for your daughter’s tuition.”
He drops his head and murmurs something.It takes my brain a second or two to process.
“You gotta be shitting me,” I grumble.
I stalk to the bucket with bleach and take out my knife.Drying it off with the cloth beside it, I place it back in my buckle and walk straight out of the room.
Rolling down my sleeves I tell Buck, “Knock the fucker out and drop him back at his own place.I’m done.”
I grab my jacket and head for the door.
Floris falls in step beside me.“And?”
Turning to face my brother, I growl, “That fucker made his own son fight to feed his own gambling addiction.He didn’t even care about his daughter’s education.Hell, I bet neither Quinn nor Micah knew the fight was never about her tuition.He took every last penny she needed for her final year and then borrowed some more because that’s what greedy sonofabitch gamblers do.”
“He bet on his own kid?”Floris asks.
I turn to face him.“We need to dive into this fucker’s illegal underground fighting scheme.I bet he did something to piss off Jovan Cillian.Enough to make him lash out and take over his business.”
“Fuck,” Floris snaps.“Cillian did it again.Please tell me we’re going to bring this fucker down this time.”
A grin slides across my face.“Well, I can tell you there won’t be a fucking next time once we’re done.”
CHAPTER SIX
–QUINN –
I’m making notes on my laptop while keeping my focus on the PowerPoint presentation in front of us.Bri elbows me against my arm and when I glance her way, she jerks her chin in the direction of the professor.
The corner of my mouth twitches.It seems like the professor fell asleep during his own class.Not entirely surprising since the man’s class, along with his PowerPoint presentations, are the epitome of boring.I couldn’t care less if they were informative, which they aren’t, and that’s why I’m writing notes to do more research myself.
The professor is leaning his head on his arm, deep in sleep.Bri sticks her hand in the air and shows three fingers.Slowly she counts down to two, one...the professor jolts upright and we both chuckle.Every damn time he sets a timer on his watch, knowing he falls asleep anyway, and needs to be ripped away from his dream so he can dismiss us.
I close my laptop and place it in my bag along with the rest of my stuff.Bri waits patiently for me.
