SINdicate: A BT Urruela FanFiction Novel: Cerberus MC Book 1.5 (11 page)

“I get paid tomorrow,” I lie.

He laughs, and it’s the same cold, calculating laugh I heard on the phone last night before they busted into the motel room.

“No sense in lying Mr. Hawke. Did you think we’d loan you twenty thousand dollars and not run your background?”

My blood runs cold. I think about my dad, brother, and even my mom who I haven’t spoken to in years. If this situation gets anymore fucked and they do something to my family, I’ll either kill every one of them the second I get a chance, or I’ll haunt them every second of eternity from the grave.

“We know for a fact that you lost your job last month,” Vinnie says as if he’s disclosing some secret I tried to keep hidden.

I release a shuttering breath. Shadow is an expert at alternate identities, and I never should’ve doubted him.

“I just need more time,” I tell him. “Seriously, Vinnie. I can feel it in my bones. I know the big break is coming.”

“More time?” He scoffs. “I could give you years, Mr. Hawke, but you don’t have the money to place the next bet much less the ability to pay me back.”

“So this is where you kill me?”

I watch him shrug as if ending a man’s life over money is a decision he makes every day and has no issues with signing the death certificate.

“We know you have no family. Your parents died when you were young. Your wife killed herself three years ago. You have nothing left to go home to.”

Fucking Shadow. I guess on paper Mike Hawke was at the lowest point of his life, but shit, he killed off my imaginary wife. I pray that doesn’t end up as a premonition rather than a way to keep Mike Hawke’s business right here in Vegas, dependent on one man, rather than sending these thugs to go hurt someone in an attempt to get me to comply with repayment.

“Your life sucks, man,” the guy standing to my left says.

I nod in agreement, because on paper that was one hundred percent the truth. Mike Hawke’s life was horrible. I hope they don’t decide to make me a mercy killing. That’s not exactly conducive to my plans to rescue Aviana.

As stupid as it sounds, I wonder what Batman would do in a situation like this. My favorite superhero is human, just like I am. He’s selfless in his bid to rid his world of evil. Unfortunately, unlike Batman, I don’t have tricks up my fucking sleeves to get out of this mess.

“You put on quite a performance last night.” I look up at Vinnie as he stubs his cigar out on the concrete wall. “Vito here,” he points to the man to my right that called me a Chihuahua. I smirk again at the cut on his lip. “He said you put a good fight. Not much impresses Vito these days.”

I don’t know how to take the compliment.

“Still ended up here, tied to this fucking chair,” I mumble.

Vito laughs and cracks his knuckles.
Yeah, fucker I got you. One on one and let’s see how long you keep that smile on your damn face.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Vinnie asks. “Your background doesn’t show anything that would indicate formal training.”

“Taebo,” I mutter. Vito laughs again, but the sarcasm is lost on Vinnie. Old, fat fucker wouldn’t know exercise if it took a chunk out of his big ass. He raises an eyebrow at me. “I grew up in a shitty neighborhood. It was either learn to fight or get your ass whipped every day.”

“You owe me twenty thousand dollars,” Vinnie says, reminding me of just how fucked I am. “You know what happens to the guys that can’t pay me back my money?”

I want to tell him that I heard abducting innocent women was his thing, but I keep that shit to myself. Aviana, hopefully, is still alive out there somewhere, and it wouldn’t bode well for her if I mentioned anything like that.

“Besides the spa treatment I’m getting right now?” Vito and the other man in the room chuckle, but Vinnie is less than impressed. I’m a smartass, been this way my entire life. Pretty sad when I can’t even turn it off in the face of adversity. This man made his mind up before he walked into this room what my fate would be. I don’t imagine busting his chops a little is going to change that, and I refuse to look like a pussy. That’s BT coming out; Mike Hawke would beg for his life, but at this moment in time, if I’m going to die, I’ll do it with pride and dignity.

“Most men are disposed of quickly when I don’t see an alternative for payment,” Vinnie says. “You, however, have a certain skill set I see as being beneficial to my organization.”

I tilt my head as hope flares in my chest. I don’t say a word, rather I just stare at him and try to determine where he’s going next.

“I have a proposition for you, Mr. Hawke,” he says and narrows his eyes when he can tell I’m about to come back with some smart-assed comment. I swallow my remark and do my best to skill my face into impassivity. “I have a way to allow you to live and pay me back.”

This could be worse than death. I know whatever he expects me to do will not border on legality but will cross the line so far I’ll end up in prison. I nod my head, even though it’s the last thing I want to do. I may only be changing the date on my death certificate, but it’s better than coming to an end today.

“Whatever you need,” I say, sliding back into Mike Hawke’s persona.

“I’m always looking for men with your skill set.” When I tilt my head in confusion, he continues. “Recovery.” He says simply.

“Recovery?” I know what he’s talking about, but I want him to say the words.

“You’ll work with Vito here,” he nods toward the guy to my right.

“A job?” I smile at him. This situation just took one hell of a turn for the better.

“Vito will show you the ropes. You can count half of what you recover toward your debt.” He walks away, and I hear the door slam behind me.

This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. A Vegas mob boss just loans out money like it’s no big fucking deal, then offers me a job. He’s so narcissistic; he doesn’t even consider I’d agree and take off the first second I get a chance? Insane, the man is insane. Well, his mental health issues are only concerning to me in that he’s just given me the perfect in to this organization. This is the best possible outcome I could hope for with the way the situation turned to shit.

He didn’t even wait for my answer. He didn’t have to; he knew I had no other choice but to say yes.

BT

I shift my body quickly towards the guy I kneed in the balls earlier as he bends down to cut my legs free. I smirk when he shifts backward quickly. Clearly this fucker is scared of me. He better be. I turn my attention to Vito, who is clearly the next top guy just under Vinnie.

“We have the best resources in tracking people,” Vito says before giving the guy at my feet the nod to cut my arms free. “You take off, and we’ll track you down like a dog and slaughter you in the street.”

Ballsy threat. “As you heard,” I say calmly. “I got fired from my job. This offer is the best one I’ve had in years.”

He nods, taking me at my word and whatever info he gathered from my background check. This actually makes him an idiot. He knows I have nothing to lose. He’s well aware, according to the information they revealed, I have no family or anyone else they can torture and threaten me with like they are doing with Aviana’s dad. I’m a loose cannon; a ticking time bomb at best. How these guys are too stupid to realize that I have no idea.

“Follow me,” Vito says walking out of the small room.

“Where are we going?” I ask as I rub the tender area around my wrists. The skin’s not broken, but angry whelp marks cover a solid one inch.

I look to my left and see the door to Vinnie’s office. Right next door? The way that fucker was huffing and puffing, I was sure he, at least, took a flight of stairs. His ass won’t last much longer if twenty yards has him puffing like an asthmatic teen who’d just seen tits for the first time.

“To work,” Vito says hitting the up button on the elevator panel. And just like that, I became the newest enforcer for the SINdicate.

As stealthily as I can, I pat my pockets. My cell phone and wallet are gone. I have no way to reach out to the guys in New Mexico to let them know about Kid.

“What happened to the guy in the room with me?” I ask Vito, not sure if I even want what I’m assuming is tragic news. I can still hear the echo of his head hitting the bedside table in my head.

“We left his ass there,” the other guy with us said.

“Alive?” I ask.

“What’s it to you?” Vito sneers. “He your boyfriend or something?”

“Why?” I sneer. “You wanna take me for a spin?”

His eyes widen as if homosexuality is the grossest thing he could imagine himself doing. I’m not gay by any stretch of the imagination, but I despise people who are homophobic. Too much bigger shit going on in the world than to worry about who loves who.

“Calm the fuck down,” I say doing my best to hide my annoyance. “I just met his ass last week.”
Truth.
“We were sharing a room to save on costs.”
Lie.

“I just don’t need the police looking for my ass when they find a fucking dead body in a room rented in my name.” The thought that there may be some truth to that makes my skin crawl.

“Relax, asshole,” the guy behind me says with a shove to my back. “He was moaning and groaning when we left the room. He probably has one hell of a headache, but he was alive.”

Relief washes over me. I pray he doesn’t interfere with the SINdicate now that I have a way inside. I told him to leave me alone if they took me, and I pray he heeds my instructions.

I have no doubt that Kincaid will send some people to keep an eye on me. No way will he just let me get grabbed up and, at least, make sure I’m okay. I take solace in knowing that they are out there, even if I can’t see them or have any idea what they plan on doing. My only concern right now is to find out where Aviana is and get her ass out of Vegas.

***

“My Cock, huh?”
Mike Hawke
. Vito says with a laugh as we walk down the dark alleyway. Most people come to Vegas and have no idea about the seedy, disgusting side of the town. All they see are the lights, shows, and well-kept casinos. They don’t see the crime, disease, and filth that is mere blocks away from the glamour and fun. How could they expect anything less in a city where pretty much anything goes and men have been literally getting away with murder since the first fight over land in the desert over a hundred years ago?

“My parents were assholes,” I say in response to his jab at my name. The words taste like shit in my mouth. Maybe a guy named Mike Hawke’s parents would be assholes. My pop, on the other hand, is one of the greatest men I’ll ever know. I have to remember that Mike’s life is now mine. I’m no longer BT Urruela; I’m now an indentured servant to the SINdicate.

“That guy,” Vito says pointing at a man who’s passed out beside the dumpster.

The man doesn’t look homeless, or if he is, it’s a recent event. No doubt if he’s lost everything, it’s because of a bet he’d made drunk with SINdicate, much like the way they got me.

“The bum?” I ask looking at the poor guy. “He wouldn’t have shit on him. He’d be in a hotel sleeping it off rather than on top of a pile of garbage.”

“These guys don’t waste money on luxury shit like that. Gets in the way of gambling and dope.” The other guy says beside me.

“Frankie’s right. Check his pockets. If he gives you any trouble, punch him in the fucking mouth.” Vito tilts his head toward the guy who remains passed out and oblivious to what’s about to happen.

I roll my shoulders and walk up to the man. Crouching down beside him I pat his pockets. “If I get stabbed with a used fucking needle,” I threaten as I reach into his pocket.

My fingers hit a roll, and my eyes go wide. Pulling the wad of cash from his pocket, I stare at the money. I grin up at Vito. “This may be easier than I thought.”

“Not so fast,” he says taking the cash from my hand. I watch as he pops the rubber band on the money. The twenty on the outside is protecting a roll of nothing but ones. “Less than a hundred here.”

Most people would put their larger bills on the inside of their money to make it look like they have less than they do. This idiot has done the complete opposite.

“Just look at it this way,” Vito says counting the money. “You’re debt just decreased by forty-two bucks.”

Frankie laughs, and it pisses me off so bad I want to kick the still sleeping guy on the ground.

“Come on,” Vito says stuffing the meager cash into his pocket. “We got a few more before the night ends.”

I follow him out of the alley just to walk a few blocks and take care of a few more guys. After the fourth guy, I’m pretty certain we’re just robbing people, and it sits heavy in my stomach. I constantly remind myself this is only a means to an end, but that was harder to swallow when the last guy fought back, and I was forced to pop him in the nose to relieve him of the thirty-eight dollars he had in his pocket.

“If I keep doing this,” I tell Vito wiping the vagrant’s blood off of my knuckles and onto my jeans, “I’m going to need some fucking gloves. I don’t want to walk away from this fucking job with AIDS or some shit.”

Both he and Frankie laugh at me as we walk back to the car. Frankie drives us back to the casino, and I follow them into the attached hotel. It’s only ten to twelve stories high, but the reception area is cleaner than I would’ve expected from the condition of the attached casino.