Page 13 of Sergei
He motioned over to his computer screen as he announced, “I looked into Walker, that dealer Viktor caught stealing, and he’s been doing it for way longer than a couple of weeks like Viktor thought.”
I looked down at the video dated months ago and watched as he palmed a coin and slipped it into his pocket. Anger rushed through me when Jenson said, “He’s been at it for months. Racked up over six thousand dollars.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.” Jenson shot me a look. “I can rip up his check and fine him for the rest. But is that enough?”
I thought back to my conversation with Viktor. I couldn’t help but wonder if he might be right about making an example out of this guy. I wasn’t in the mood for playing nice, so I asked him, “Where is he?”
“Downstairs waiting on his last check.”
“Send him up, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“You got it.”
With that, he turned, and I watched as he walked out of the room. In this business, muscle was easy to find. I had it in every corner, but it was tough to find a man who went the extra mile. That was rare. Jenson was rare, and I would reward him for his efforts.
Twenty minutes later, he returned with Walker.
Jenson motioned him inside and said, “Good luck.”
Jenson walked out, closing the door behind him. Walker didn’t move. He just stood there with his hands shoved deep in his front pockets. He was trying to look unbothered, but I could see the fear in his eyes. I glared at him for a long moment, then said, “You’ve been stealing from me.”
“Yeah, I done told your brother that it was a one-time thing, and it wouldn’t happen again.”
“Only it wasn’t a one-time thing. You’ve been doing it for months,” I barked. “Do you know what that means?”
He started stammering excuses about being broke, and that I didn’t understand. Times were tough, and he’d pay me back. He was still yammering on when I started walking toward him, slow and deliberate. When I got closer, I hit him. It wasn’t a wild punch. It was calculated.
A fist to the gut and then another to the jaw.
He stumbled and heaved, trying to do what he could to block me. It was no use. I grabbed him by the collar and slammed hisface against the wall so hard the drywall cracked. Blood spewed from the gnarled gash above his brow, but that didn’t slow me down.
I leaned in closer, my face just inches from his as I growled, “You clearly don’t know who you’re talking to.”
Blood continued to seep from his wound as I brought my hand up to his throat, squeezing firmly as I snarled, “I know every chip you pocketed, every dollar you thought would go unnoticed. I always notice.”
Back in the day, I would’ve killed a man for stealing a nickel from the family, much less thousands of dollars. I would slit their throats and leave them to bleed out in the filthy street, and my fingers itched to do the same to him. But I wasn’t back in the day.
I’d left those times behind me, and I had no intention of going back. I tightened my grip on his throat, squeezing just enough to make his eyes bulge. “You’re done here.”
He whimpered as I dropped him to the floor like trash. He scrambled to his feet, and his eyes were wide with terror as I told him, “You walk out that door, and you never set foot in this casino again. And if I so much as hear your name whispered in connection with me, I will come for you, and there will be no walking away.”
I dismissed him with a flick of my hand, and he bolted for the door, stumbling like a beaten dog. When the door slammed behind him, I let out a slow, deep breath, letting the tension roll off of me. I hadn’t slit the guy’s throat, but he would always wear the mark of his fuck-up above his brow.
Viktor would’ve been pleased, but I had no intention of telling Viktor or anyone else about my encounter with Walker.
It was done.
There was no reason to drag it out by talking about it.
I needed some air, so I walked out of the office and immediately spotted Preacher and Goose standing at the railing, quietly watching the crowd below, so I went over and joined them. “How’s it going?”
“Another busy one.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“It certainly is.” Preacher kept his eyes trained on the crowd below as he asked, “You take care of things with the dealer?”
