Glimpse- An Obsessed Mobster Love story

Chapter 10

When Ambrose sat back down in his chair, John saw the promise in his eyes. His gaze was so intense it was a physical weight. John turned away, but goosebumps broke out on his skin and he shivered.

"Here's our whipping post," Gregory announced. A younger man climbed onto the stage with his shoulders and jaw tight with resignation. He couldn't have been older than twenty-two, or thereabouts. He had wavy black hair that was cut jaggedly and short around his ears and neck. His skin was sallow with malnutrition. His muscles were whipcord lean from hungry days. But being the whipping post for a yellow card match was the first step to being one of the regular fighters, and Gregory paid well for it. The boy would get beat to hell, but he would eat like a king.

John remembered the days he had thought it was worth it, too.

Gregory didn't give the boy a name. The crowd didn't want it. They booed and threw popcorn at him. They called him dehumanizing names and screamed at John to mangle him. To cripple him. It was that tantalizing possibility of seeing someone actually die that made the yellow card matches so popular with bad people. The younger man clenched his fists and met John's satre with his own. He glanced up and down John's form, taking in his muscles. It wasn't an appreciative look. It was the look of someone who knew those muscles were about to be used to deliver pain.

John was glad he hadn't eaten much. He was feeling sick.

"You know the rules here, folks! Anything goes!" Gregory crawled out of the ring and rang the bell.

John took a single step forward. The young man didn't move or raise his unwrapped fists to defend himself.

"Don't worry," John said quietly. "I'm very good. But when you wake up, come find me. John Finch, security consultant. I've got a job you can do. Do you understand?"

The young man narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but he nodded.

"What do you mean when I wake up?" He asked.

"Goodnight," John said. He whipped out his fist in a single perfect jab.

The young man's head snapped back. Blood sprayed from his nose. He fell back on the mat. The crowd screamed in appreciation and demanded more, but the whipping post didn't get up. He was out like a light. John had knocked him out in one punch. The crowd grew quieter and grumbled about it angrily.

Gregory scowled, but John just shrugged.

You said I could make it as fast as I wanted. John had no doubt that Gregory regretted that decision.

"Settle your bets, folks!" Gregory yelled to the crowd. "You don't have to go home but you can't stay here! Good night, and see you next week!"

John jumped over the ropes and was at Gregory's side in an instant. He ignored the weight of Ambrose's stare between his shoulder blades and the growing awareness John had of him. He knew Ambrose stood up. He knew that Ambrose was slowly getting through the crowd to his side.

"Information. Now." John put his hand on Gregpry's shoulder.

"The Remus family." The ringmaster spoke quickly. Maybe he knew Ambrose was coming, too. "Property on the east side. They own most of the wharf. The new boss is Jonas. Ambrose had a deal with the old boss. He was gonna own them. But the nephew took over and had a more violent plan. That's who you're looking for."

"Thanks."

John turned around and came face to face with the man that had been on his mind for five straight days. He frowned.

"Is there a reason I didn't get a single phone call?"

Ambrose's eyes went wide. Omar covered his mouth to stop his guffaw. Monroe looked away awkwardly. For the first time since John met Ambrose, he seemed at a loss for words.