Page 106 of Forgotten Sacrifice
Sal tries to take Mike’s glass, but Fabio notices. “Sal, that’s not your glass.”
“Ah, sorry, boss.” Sal grabs his glass, discreetly taking a sniff.
“Mike, since both your knees have been taken out, keep your seat.” Fabio walks across the room, handing Mike his drink.
“Thanks, boss.” Mike accepts the drink with a shaky hand.
“Of course.” Fabio smiles, returning to his desk. “A toast. To peace in our crew.”
We lift our glasses, and I tip back the liquid. There’s no taste; only the burning taste of regret should this be it for me.
I should’ve made plans with Aldo to look out for Luna.
I should’ve taken better care of Luna.
I should’ve never made Luna cheat.
I should’ve never fallen in love with Luna.
“Gentlemen, here’s a thing you should know about me,” Fabio says, his voice cutting through the silence of the room. “I don’t find threats of sexual assault funny, even if, Sal, you were ‘joking around,’ as Mike so pitifully defended you.”
Sal and Mike begin to convulse violently, with Sal falling out of his chair, and Mike slumping over on the couch. Both mens’ eyes roll back in their heads.
“You’re on casino security until I can work something out.” Fabio points to me.
“You got it, skipper,” I’m quick to agree.
“Is this girl worth all the trouble?”
“Yes,” I answer unequivocally.
“Alright, then.” He tosses me a pair of gloves. “Help me take out the trash.”
Luna
“You work here now?” I check out Kat’s fancy office.
She nods. “I’m the pit boss.”
“I don’t know what that means, but you’re definitely a girl boss.”
“Like it. I need a ‘girl boss’ name plate.” Kat rubs her nails on her dress with a smile. “Pit boss means I oversee the gambling operations. I make sure everything’s running smoothly; dealers are dealing clean; players are on their best behavior. If there’s a dispute, I handle it. On the off chance I can’t handle it, Fabio steps in.”
“You sound like an arbiter.”
“My turn; I don’t know what that means,” she admits.
“Pretty much how you described it, but substitute chess for gambling.”
“Ah,” she says. “I hear you’re a big deal in chess.”
“I became a Grandmaster yesterday,” I tell her. “And beat the reigning world champion, the first time a woman’s ever done it in a rated game.”
“Forget girl boss. Fucking queen moves.” She claps.
I laugh, peeling off my bandage and showing off my new ink.
“Love it. Who’s your tattoo artist?”
