Click.
I flip it open and closed again. I do it all the time. Doesn’t matter if I’m stressed or relaxed. It’s a reminder that I was born to burn in hell. And if I wanted to, I could take everyone with me. My mother didn’t realize just how right she was when she gave me this on my birthday.
“I’m not telling you shit!” he snarls, slapping his hands on the table. His once white T-shirt is ripped and hanging off one shoulder. He’s got a bruise under his left eye from where Titan knocked him out before we dragged his ass down here.
We’ve been waiting for thirty minutes for him to regain consciousness and join the party.
“That’s what they all say,” Bones states from my right.
Titan leans against the back wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Grave stands to my left, texting away on his cell. I’m guessing to his pregnant girlfriend. He must have a lot to say because he’s been typing for a good minute.
“We’ll give you a second to think it over,” Bones tells him, being nicer than normal.
The guy throws his head back laughing, spit flying from his mouth at the action. “I don’t need a goddamn second. My lips are sealed.”
“Well …” Bones looks over at me, arching a dark brow. “Then he’s no use to us.”
“I agree,” I say, flipping the Zippo shut and pocketing it. “Titan?” I look over at him and nod, giving the signal. The guy had his chance, which is more than what we usually offer. We’re all in a pretty good mood today, so it’s his choice to die.
Titan steps up behind him and yanks him from the chair, shoving him facedown onto the table. The man tries to fight him, but he yanks his arms behind his back, keeping him pinned down. Bones steps forward toward them.
“They will kill you!” the man shouts. “All of you and everyone you love!”
That gets Grave’s attention. He looks up at the man from his phone, his fingers pausing over it, but says nothing.
“Where are they?” Bones directs his question to Titan.
“Back pocket,” Titan clips.
Making his way around the table, Bones yanks a bag of zip ties from Titan’s pocket and removes two from the plastic before dropping the rest to the floor. “Ya know, Kenneth,” he starts as he slides the end of one through the other, pulling on it to make sure it’s secure at the length he wants. “I’m not in the mood to get bloody today.”
“Fuck you, Kings!” The guy thrashes on the table under Titan’s weight. “You can’t touch me …”
Titan yanks him from the table and spins around so Kenneth now faces Bones.
“No one is untouchable,” Bones states, then quickly wraps the zip tie around the man’s neck. Kenneth tries to fight, but Titan has a good hold on him, giving Bones easy access to thread the zip tie before yanking it tightly against his skin. The sound of the zipper seals Kenneth’s fate.
Titan then shoves Kenneth to the right. The four of us watch him as he falls to his knees, panic on his face while his hands try to pry it off. As if he has a chance. Not going to happen. Death doesn’t leave any room for dignity. Not when you know it’s coming. Your fight or flight kicks in no matter how little of a chance you know you have.
He’ll die of strangulation, and afterward, we’ll bury his ass in the desert. It’s what we’ve been doing for years now. What we were taught. What we know. And thankfully, Las Vegas has plenty of space for us to hide our secrets.
To anyone that is visiting out of town, they come to Kingdom—our hotel and casino—to try their luck. The lights and glamor catch their attention, and they think they can come in and hit the jackpot on one of our machines or win big at the tables. But for those people who know the Kings, they know what we’re about and what we’re willing to do to keep things in order.
Nothing and no one will stop us! We own this town. We dominate the Strip. Bones, Titan, and I are only twenty-six, Grave twenty-five, and no one can compete with us. Even though our dads were the Three Wiseman, we still had to prove ourselves. Had to show Las Vegas we deserved what we were given. No matter the price.
The guy falls face-first on the floor, no longer struggling.
Titan bends down and checks for a pulse. “He’s gone.”
“Take care of him,” Bones orders and storms out, pissed we didn’t get the information we were looking for.
People pay us a lot of money to take care of their problems. Usually, the motherfuckers sing, telling us everything we need to know in hopes we’ll let them go. That’s never the case. You can’t afford to look weak.
“I’ll take him,” Titan offers, pulling out his cell from his back pocket. “Nigel is going to help me.”
“You sure?” I ask.
He nods, and I turn to Grave. He’s no longer texting on his cell. “I have to be at the Airport in twenty. I’ve got a fight tonight.”
