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Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(202)

By:Meg Watson


“Fuck! Keep your voice down!” Bryce glared, clenching his jaw as the old guy shuffled away, scowling. He paused, clearly fighting the urges in his mind and choosing his words carefully. “Just… yes. I need you here. Just win. OK?”

Auger turned to the crowd, watching them mill around, their eyes roving over each fighter like they were sizing up race horses or 4-H pigs at the county fair.

“You need me here for what, exactly?” he said through clenched teeth. “What are you into?”

“Ehhhhhh,” Bryce groaned, trying to keep his voice down. “I’m a little… behind. I’ve been having a rough month.”

“Behind who?”

He took a determined stance and stared out at the crowd.

“Behind on what?” Auger insisted, raising his voice. He knew the answer already but wanted Bryce to admit it. Bryce just shook his head silently. “How much?” he asked finally.

Bryce sighed through his nose. “Ten.”

“What?!” Auger bellowed. Trent flinched next to him and a couple of charcoal-suited gamblers shot him a snarky expression.

“Ten grand. Yes. But tonight, I am clear. This is it. It doesn’t cost you anything, man… Just… win. Please.” He finally turned and looked at Auger, his eyes bright and desperate. Auger could see the pride it took for Bryce to admit it, but still.

Fuck.

“God I hate you sometimes,” Auger muttered, flexing his pecs and trying to calmly breathe through his nose. A trio of identically blonde women in designer cocktail dresses strolled by, inspecting him. One gave flirty, subtle sniff. Auger clenched his jaw.

“I hate you right back,” Bryce sighed, blowing out his cheeks.

Some big part of Auger wanted to just knock him out, leave him on the carpet and go home. Finish it. It would be for his own good and he wouldn’t be able to get into any more trouble, at least not tonight. But Auger had made that stupid promise to Callie and wanted to keep what was left of it. Treating Bryce like a little kid was never going to teach him anything.

So he just stood there, trying to shake out his muscles, trying to feel his body all fall in without getting too happy about the prospect of beating somebody’s ass in a few minutes.

It was like second nature. As soon as he allowed it, all his nerves converted to the bright, sparking vibration of energy ready to be unleashed. The sound turned up the joy in his heart, no matter how hard he tried to tamp it down. The anticipation was thrilling.

He didn’t even notice he was smiling until the man in the expensive suit turned around and smiled suddenly back. Auger flinched and corrected his expression to something more serious. The man took a half step forward, his perfect white teeth gleaming. He had a twinkle in his eye and cocked one eyebrow curiously, but he was close. Way too close.

Auger returned his stare with a confidence he wasn’t sure he felt. Something about his three-piece suit and slicked-back hair set Auger slightly off his game. He figured the smile did it. Everything about the stranger looked super-controlled, but the smile cut through like the brightest bulb in a string of lights. Instinctively, Auger refused to look away. Alpha male rules are clear: you don’t back down.

“Odin!” Orion said with a slimy grin, sliding into view. “Mr. Cooke would like a word.”

Auger felt himself hesitate as the man stuck out his hand formally. The pinstripe suit hugged his bulky bicep, and he wondered why Cooke wasn’t heading for the ring, himself. But his mission was obvious, and Auger fought to control his disgust.

“Winsor,” he said with his hand out. Auger shook it without enthusiasm.

“Uh, Odin…” Orion stammered, sensing a change in the mood. “Mr. Cooke has offered to sponsor you. Winsor Cooke.”

Auger shook his head automatically. “No, thank you.”

Orion barked out a surprised laugh, tipping his head back far enough to reveal his molars. “Oh ho! I don’t think you understand!” he said hurriedly. “Odin just joined us… he’s not familiar…” he stammered.

Winsor nodded and raised his eyebrows without breaking Auger’s gaze. Auger knew they were going to have to start throwing punches very soon.

“Oh, I know,” Winsor nodded with a deep, confident voice. His hazel eyes bored into Auger’s, daring him to make a move as he spoke in a slow, arrogant drawl. “I would have remembered seeing someone like this.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s something else,” Orion purred proudly. Auger ignored him and gritted his teeth. He was determined to keep on track.

Get in, get out, he repeated to himself.

Winsor took another half step. Auger wrinkled his nose and tipped forward ever so slightly, the threat plain in his posture. In his electrified state, he could smell the warm, starchy aroma of Winsor’s pressed shirt collar where it met his neck.