What Really Matters
The club was a mess. Hired guns, entourage wannabe’s, and assorted cousins lay strewn about the dirty floor. Half the lights in the place were shot out, leaving only a few florescent lights to cast the scene in a sickly blue. Dino sat as far back in his VIP booth as he could, mustering every ounce of his machismo and bravado not to piss his pants.
Micah wasn’t talking, so Dino offered, “What, no congratulations?”
“One thing,” Micah shot back, “One thing I asked of you when I left town, left to make room for you, to let you be your own man. I asked one thing: leave Sadie alone.”
“So, you’re marrying her tomorrow!”
Dino smirked and took a sip of his over-priced cognac, “You act all high and mighty, her knight protector. Really you’re just pissed that you’re not gonna be the one to bed her.”
He might have been right. There might have been a lot of things to discuss at this point. The only thing that mattered to Micah at this point though was that Dino had to die.