Page 30 of Retaliation

“Jim. Bob.” She nodded and greeted the two men.

“Access denied,” the man on the right answered, his Italian accent heavy.

“Oh, come now, boys. I thought we were all friends here,” she said, giving them her most innocent face.

“How long have you been coming here, Miss Poison?” The man on the left raised his eyebrows and stepped into her direct path.

“Jim, it’s not very gentlemanly to ask a lady to give away her age like that.”

“It’s been fifteen years,” he answered for her. “Fifteen years of you making the same joke and insisting on naming us Jim and Bob. Despite Bob having been about seven other men.”

The man next to him gave him an exasperated look but just shrugged and allowed someone else to enter.

“You can have access once you learn our names.”

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she smiled at the mountain of a man.

“Well, Giovanni. You started at the Quarry exactly fourteen years and ten months ago. I joined this ring three months prior. And you are Roberto,” She turned to the other bouncer. “You’ve been here for seven months, starting as a crowd controller. Before you, there was Antonio,” She started counting on her fingers. “Marco, Luca, Giuseppe, Francesco, Matteo, and Leonardo.”

Their jaws fell to the ground, and she leaned forward to shut their mouths for them; an index finger under each’s chin.

“Now, if you boys will excuse me, I have some bones to break.” But their stupor didn’t allow them to answer or move. “If you don’t move, you’ll find out exactly why I’m the only crew leader in this territory who doesn’t answer to the Don.”

That made them step aside, and she walked past them, pushing the metal doors open.

As she stepped inside the Quarry, her senses were immediately overwhelmed by a discord of sounds and a riot of colors. The air buzzed with anticipation, punctuated by shouts and cheers from the crowd. The scent of sweat and adrenaline hung thick in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.

Her eyes adjusted to the neon lit interior, revealing a sprawling arena bathed in flashing neon lights. The space was cavernous, with towering walls of rough-hewn stone looming on all sides, casting long shadows across the floor. A fighting ring stood in the center of the arena, surrounded by rows of metal bleachers packed with spectators.

The crowd was a sea of faces drawn together by their shared thirst for blood. Some cheered wildly, waving banners and flags in support of their favorite fighters, while others watched with grim determination, their eyes fixed on the action below.

In the ring, two fighters circled each other warily, their movements fluid and precise. The sound of their fists meeting flesh echoed through the arena, accompanied by the occasional grunt of exertion. The intensity of the fight was palpable; each blow landing with bone-jarring force.

She moved around the back of the bleachers to the locker room, where she arranged to meet with Skel.

A loud thud was followed by the crowd cheering and the announcer calling: “K.O” through the speakers when she walked into the locker room. Her whole crew was already waiting for her.

“Good evening, everyone.” Her voice was authoritative, and her spine straightened despite the pressure of tonight on her shoulders. She couldn’t allow her crew to see any vulnerability.

What if he showed up tonight? Would she be ready to face Jonathan’s killer? Or would she lose everything she worked toward for the past decade?

“There’s no sign of him yet,” Skel said, stepping forward.

She gave him a grateful nod, admiring her second-in-command. Skel’s hazel eyes glinted with determination as he scanned the room, his gaze unwavering and vigilant. His olive-toned skin exuded an aura of calm confidence, contrasting with the tension in the air.

With a nod of assurance, Skel conveyed his unwavering support to her, and she knew he was silently promising to stand by her side no matter what.

“Keep your eyes and ears open for any sign,” Turning, she addressed her crew. “If anyone hears anything, report back to me. And do not engage. I repeat, do not engage. Reaper is mine.”

Everyone set out on the trail for blood—everyone except Skel and Cat. She turned to her two most loyal friends.

“Mi Hermana,” Cat said, stepping forward and hugged her, her smoky brown eyes full of worry. “We will find him. And you will have your revenge.”

“Thanks, Cat. I know. It’s just…” she trailed off and leaned against the doorframe, looking out at the ring.

“We get it, boss lady,” Skel stepped to her side. “We all do.”

TEN

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