Big Paolo barked a laugh. “Declan, don’t be an asshole. If this were a job, I’d be paying you out at the end.”
Declan frowned, scratching his chin. “Right.” He started to work his tired mind over the offer, trying to figure out what the hell his move was. “This is a security gig? I walk around and wave my gun and scare people off, just like old times?”
“Something like that. There’s an unconfirmed threat on some kid with a rich daddy. They’ve already got security where he lives, but Daddy Dearest is looking for someone with a bit more muscle to stay close at hand if things get rough.” He shrugged. “Just some twenty-something in a mansion. I don’t imagine it will come to much.”
Declan grumbled to himself. It sounded pretty damn boring. And a year in New York meant a year he wasn’t running his hustles here in Vegas, a year with no income. Even if he was able to keep Big Paolo’s hands off some of his cash, those savings wouldn’t last Declan long.
“I’m sorry, I see from the expression on your face that you’re not understanding me, Declan. So let me make this clear…” Big Paolo leaned across the table, and when he tilted his head up, Declan finally saw the beads of his dark eyes. “If you don’t work off your debt, I’ll fucking kill you.”
“New York!” Declan said with an instant grin. “How about that shit? Maybe I’ll even get a chance to visit the big city while I’m there, get in a little shopping.”
Big Paolo chuckled. “That’s what I thought.” He held his hand in the air, and two of his men stepped forward. They stood on either side of Declan, their hulking bodies casting shadows over the table.
“What, is the date over already?” Declan asked. “I didn’t even get my kiss goodnight.”
“My men will see you home,” Big Paolo answered. “As soon as you hand over your lease, your stash, whatever else I might need to cover this debt, they’ll get you on a flight.”
“This fast?” He almost coughed on the words, and the tequila sloshing in his gut threatened to spill out. “Fuck, Paolo. We’ve known each for how long now?” You’d think the guy would give Declan a little time to wrap up loose ends, take care of business.
Grab the money he had buried in the backyard. Maybe even run away and avoid paying the debt altogether…
Big Paolo waved his hand. “Don’t test me, Declan. You knew you were betting out of your league. Small time guys like you shouldn’t even sit at this table.”
His men took Declan’s elbows, then jerked him to his feet. He cast his eyes to the bartender, a young woman who was pretending not to pay attention, then back to Big Paolo. Declan wanted to spit fire, but he could barely manage to steady his wobbly knees as the men dragged him toward the harsh morning, tequila still sloshing in his stomach. Instead, stumbling forward, he just felt like a loser, dragged out like the trash.
“Enjoy New York,” Big Paolo sneered after him. “I hear it’s beautiful this time of year.”
