Free SINdicate: A BT Urruela FanFiction Novel: Cerberus MC Book 1.5 by Marie James Page A

from the table. I don’t miss the adjustment of the front of his jeans as he walks toward us.
    “You ready?” he asks.
    I laugh but stand from the table. “Yeah, man. Let’s go.”
    “Thank fuck,” he mutters. “I have to get away from that girl before I do something that lands me in jail.”
    ***
    The trip to Vegas wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. The further we got from Farmington, the better Kid’s mood got. By the time we passed the “Welcome to Vegas” sign, he was one of the funniest fuckers I’ve ever met. I found out he was a Marine, and as much as he thought going in he wanted to make a career out of it, he realized very quickly it wasn’t a long-term thing. He served one four-year enlistment and got out close to the time Shadow and Kincaid did. He served with them for one tour with Special Forces.
    Special Forces is pretty elite, but the jobs he’s working now seem to be a better fit for him, at least that’s what he says.
    Even on a Wednesday night, the Strip is packed with tourists. As much as I want the thick cut fries from Fat Burger, I drive right past to a decent hotel off the strip. We grab a couple rooms there; then head over closer to The Golden Dragon and get a room in a shitty motel within walking distance. Mike Hawke is a sad excuse of a man, down on his luck. He wouldn’t have a pot to piss in much less a car to drive.
    Kid is taking the car back to the nicer hotel and will grab a cab over to the casino. I sway and stagger through the front door of the casino shortly after stowing Mike’s meager belongings in the motel room. I ran water in the shower and mussed up the bed to make it look like someone had been staying there. I even brought in the fast food trash from our trip and put it inside. It may be a few days before I even have to stay there, but I still need it to look lived in.
    I have to keep my wits about me, so pretending to be drunk at first arriving is easier than actually drinking to get drunk once I’m here. I sit down at a blackjack table with a handful of other seedy looking guys. I’m hoping my dirty, ripped t-shirt, crappy shoes, and Walmart brand jeans are enough to convince whoever it is handing out loans that I’m desperate.
    I dropped everything in Tampa and headed this way within twenty-four hours of finding Aviana’s father, so there was no time to let my beard get shaggy. I had to shave it. I’m going to fuck these guys up even harder just for that. I can still taste the shaving cream and bitterness as I toss back a shot of tequila.
    “Hit me,” I tell the dealer on eighteen. It’s a stupid fucking move, and everyone at the table knows it. I get the king the next guy would have hit twenty-one with.
    “Stupid fucker,” he grumbles as the dealer throws down a six on his eleven.
    Ten hands later and I’m “broke” and sitting at a now empty table. My shitty hands have made everyone around me get up and find a table where people who actually know what they’re doing are playing.
    “Fuck,” I grumble and get up from the table. I head to the teller to make a withdrawal knowing I won’t have any luck there either.
    I stand before the ATM for fifteen minutes, swaying back and forth, cursing it for all it’s worth because it won’t spit out money. I’m hoping I’m putting on a good enough show because I’m starting to feel like a schmuck.
    “I can’t get this to work,” I slur handing the teller my card.
    “How much would you like?” She asks as she swipes the card into her computer.
    I laugh loudly. “How much can I get?”
    She frowns at her screen. “This says you have thirteen dollars and forty-eight cents in the account.”
    “I’ll take it!” I say with an excited slap to the counter.
    “I’m sorry, sir,” she says handing the card back to me. “We can’t make withdrawals less than twenty plus the fee.”
    “Are you fucking kidding me?” I yell louder than I ever should speak to a woman. My dad would kick my ass