Chapter Twenty
Luca
I hate Las Vegas, the heat, the dryness, all the different shit that takes place under bright, pretty lights to make the tourists look the other way. Everything here has a price; anything can be bought…. Including me.
Marco Drier is one of those men who thinks money can buy anything. Unfortunately for him, it has bought me and my men.
Marco is a well-known trafficker who likes to partake in all illegal things.
And he has messed with the wrong people in recent years, and now his expiration date has arrived.
I didn’t ask what he did or why they wanted him dead.
Knowing he’s a trafficker of women, I needed no more information.
As soon as they wired the money to my offshore account, I was ready.
I look over his file one more time. Memorizing his face. Knowing he’ll be another name I add to my body. Another man who can’t hurt a woman. Another evilness I expelled from this world.
“All is ready, Brother.” Thomas walks to the table, setting down a detonator. Today is a little different. After I take Marco out, they want the house to be demolished as well.
Thomas has already prepped the house, and everything is ready for the push of the button.
Thomas has been in Las Vegas for almost a week. He’s been playing the role of a light company worker to get access to the house and the grounds. Thankfully, whoever oversees Marco’s home is stupid. With a flash of his ID, they let Thomas right in.
Taking a deep breath, I hold the little black remote in my hand. To anyone else, it would look like someone's TV remote; to me, I know how much power it holds behind the small red button. I caress it with my finger, the power of a thousand men right in my hands.
“Watch that fucking finger,” Thomas grates to me.
“This one?” I ask while gently rubbing my index finger over it, needing to fuck with him, bringing a semblance of normal to the room.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” He sounds exasperated, which makes it even funnier, before lumbering into the La-Z-Boy across the room.
I smile as I place the detonator in the small, hard case, pocketing it.
Thomas reclines back; his eyes go distant.
“What’s going on?” I call him.
He steeples his fingers. “Ah, nothing,” he lies.
“Lie to someone else. What’s up?” I’ve known Thomas for a good while; I know when shit is up, and this is Thomas who’s battling something. I can see the heaviness hanging on to him.
In an instant, he kicks his legs down, making a loud sound as the footrest collapses back in.
I watch as he stands up and paces the room.
Thomas is huge and full of Aztec tattoos.
Someone you don’t want to be mad at you.
A two-time champion of Champ One. Being able to witness his reign has been one of my greatest pleasures.
He eats and sleeps MMA. It was and is his lifeline.
He stops his pacing, facing away from me. “I’m in love. Fuck, I think I’m in love.” When he turns toward me, his face is a mixture of fear and excitement.
I know my face conveys the way I’m feeling by those words, shocked. Thomas has only ever had flings, never letting them last too long or get too close to him.
“Holy hell.”
“Tell me about it.” He starts his pacing again.
I know if I don’t get all the information, Rowan is going to be pissed at me. I chuckle quietly to myself.
“Who is it and when the hell did this happen?” I ask confused, because I am.
The last woman I saw him with was at his celebratory dinner, which he forced Rowan to attend when she first came around Hard Knocks.
I’ve heard a woman speaking in the background of our phone conversations, but that’s the extent of it.
Thomas’s shoulders rise and then fall. “Fuck. Okay, she’s the doctor for Champ One… It’s Rebecca Anderson”.
My eyes bug out because I know exactly who he's speaking of, and she’s more than just the doctor for the fighters; she’s also the owner’s only daughter. “Are you insane?” Because he must be.
“Yeah.” He smiles so wide, showing his white teeth gleaming against his tanned skin, and I know he’s screwed. In that one moment, he just showed me all his cards.
“Thomas, she’s off limits; everyone knows that.”
“That’s what made it so fun. But here I am now, in love with a woman I’m not supposed to be in love with. With a woman that I can’t live without, now.”
He could lose everything—his career in the MMA, his titles, all of it. Bryan Anderson isn’t someone who takes his daughter lightly. I’ve seen what he did to the last man. And now, I’m concerned about Thomas and his safety.
Then it hits me. “She’s supposed to get married this year, Thomas!”
He grimaces. “She isn’t getting married. The only reason she was there was to connect Champ One and Revolt. It was a business arrangement made between her father and Jennings.” He spits the words out.
My heart pounds because this is more than just him and Rebecca; this is the two biggest MMA companies forming; this is money. “Thomas, this will not end well.” And I know with my whole being it isn’t, and that scares me.
“I’d rather die while loving Rebecca than live without ever having been loved, Luca.
And I know you, out of everyone, know what I mean.
Rebecca is my start and end. And if I have to end because I love her, then so be it.
” He pauses. “You ready?” he says as he pockets his cell phone; the conversation is now over.
I don’t say anything more to him about this, but this conversation isn’t over. This is some serious shit, and I don’t even know if he understands how serious it truly is. I’m scared for my friend, my brother.
The thirty-minute drive to the location is quiet, both Thomas and I in our own worlds, and it stays that way until we’re two blocks away from the house, our rental parked next to a curb in a suburban neighborhood. This man tried to stay inconspicuous, but we found him.
It never fails; my stomach turns, and my heart picks up its speed when I get so close to a job. As I sit, I say a brief prayer. A prayer for my safety and to return home to Rowan.
“I’m not sure where he’ll be, but he’s been in the pool house as of late, or he’s been occupying his office.” Thomas reiterates what he had already told me in our first debriefing when I got to town.
Nodding my head, I tap my pocket, knowing the case is there, but needing to feel it.
“Keep your ears on.”
“Yes, Dad,” I joke with him as I place my ear devices in the shell of my ear, so we’ll be in constant communication in case anything goes haywire. Just a push of the button, and he can hear me.
This is the first time I’m using this, Thomas’s new addition to the job. We’ll see if I hate it.
“I’ll be at the meetup spot when you’re done.” He holds out his fist, and I bump it with mine before stepping out, pulling my beanie down lower to conceal my long hair that sits in a topknot.
I take the two blocks at a brisk walk, not wanting to draw any attention to myself, when I stop in front of Marco’s house.
It’s unremarkable, a normal cookie-cutter home that doesn’t scream trafficking and illegal activities.
I check the street before I walk to the edge of the property, along the grass between his house and the neighbor's, blending in with the darkness that welcomes me.
The fence around the backyard is high, but still manageable to jump over. With a running start, I grab hold of the wooden peeks, my foot coming to rest on the wooden wall, giving myself a lift and jumping over, landing on my feet, before falling a bit to the grass.
I stay how I am, letting my ears pick up any sounds, but it stays silent around me, letting me know I’m in the clear to keep moving forward.
Back toward the house, I slither my way down the brick wall until I can look around the corner, and that’s when I spot the small pool house, lights on.
Running from the house to the pool chairs, I duck behind, making sure I’m still good to continue.
When I feel I am, I crouch down and walk the rest of the way to the pool house.
Once there, I hear voices. No one else is supposed to be here; this throws a wrench into the plans.
Backing away and going behind the pool house.
I tap my earpiece. “Someone is here,” I whisper.
The other side is quiet as I wait.
“Thomas,” I grit out.
“No one is supposed to be there.” His voice booms into my ear, making me wince.
“Motherfucker, not so loud.”
I hear his chuckle. “Sorry. But no one is supposed to be there. Are you sure?”
Groaning, I lurch over to the front of the pool house. Looking through the window, I can barely make out anything between the slats of the blinds. Moving my head left to right, I finally zero in my eyes on him. Is he on the phone? I think.
I wait a few more minutes to make sure, seeing him pocket his phone, the place becomes silent, letting me know he was indeed on the phone.
I maneuver back behind the pool house. “He was on the phone. I’m going to get him and take him into the main house, so when we detonate, he’ll be in there, and everything will burn with him,” I relay to Thomas, not needing him to reply, as I take in a deep breath, pull out my gun from my shoulder holster, readying myself at the door.
Knocking once, hard. Aiming my gun at the door.
The door swings open with force, and I give Marco a lopsided smile as he stands there, unfazed, looking me up and down.
“I was wondering when they would send someone.” He has a slight accent, but I can’t quite pinpoint where it's from.
“Well, here I am.” I motion with my gun for him to step out.
As he does, something feels off; a chill runs over my body as I stare at him.
Something is wrong.
He gives me no fight, and that makes me more nervous.